Ich bin eine Berlinerin

After stumbling through the Hannover train station with five bags, to move five platforms over for my train to Berlin, I sat on the ICE, sweating--because I had just lifted twice my weight onto the train, and because my nerves wouldn't settle. I was two hours away from meeting my new host family. 

Once the train entered the city limits of Berlin, I gathered my bags again, and headed toward the closest exit. I stood between two others waiting to leave the stuffy air of the caravan. They looked fatigued, disinterested; they were probably locals coming back from a business trip or weekend holiday. However, as I laid my eyes on the fresh cityscape, I couldn't feel anything but delight. We rode over the city, peering down at Berliners walking through the park and grabbing coffee; the street art alone was enough to keep me happy. Our view was suddenly blocked as the train eased into the station. The doors opened, and as soon as I looked out upon the platform, I saw two smiling faces next to signs reading "Herzlich Willkommen, Rebekah!" We exchanged huge smiles, and they rushed to help me with my bags before I could even ask. 

My new host parents, Dierk and Sabine, and I took the S-Bahn (Berlin's above-ground subway) home--a fairly short ride considering how large the city is. I gawked at the beautiful buildings, tiny gardens, hip cafés, and unending streets until we reached our station. Even as I exited the train with only two bags, my arm muscles shook, pleading me to drop the bags directly where I stood. The three of us struggled back to the apartment under the weight of the past five months of my life, but when we made it to the front door, I let out a sigh of relief when I saw the elevator inviting me to relax on my way to the fourth floor. If Dierk and Sabine's warmth wasn't enough to make me feel comfortable already, their cozy and quirky home did. They toured me around, chauffeuring me to my room, my bathroom, the living room, the balcony, etc. It was perfect.

Starting school Monday didn't leave much time to explore the city. In fact, my exhaustion and efforts to get settled in, in addition to the rainy weather made it practically impossible. However, meeting neighbors and friends kept me busy enough.

Walking to school on Monday, I was feeling the same sort of uneasiness I did in Lüneburg. Sabine took me to the secretary to figure out which classroom would be right for me. One papers were signed, and Sabine hugged me once more, I was led by a school administrator to my first period at Romain-Rolland Gymnasium. Students were standing outside the locked door, impatiently waiting for their teacher. The woman I had followed got their attention, and I could feel my cheeks turn to tomatoes as twenty pairs of eyes gazed upon me with curiosity. "This is our new American exchange student. She doesn't have a class schedule yet, but one of you needs to take her to art after the third period," she announced. Immediately six, or seven, hands flew into the air as kids bellowed "I have art," and "I can take her!" Already, this was completely unlike the experience I had at my previous school. She told me to take my pick, wished me a good first day, and headed back to her post upstairs. The rest of the day was very similar; kids offered help, asked where I was from, who I would be staying with, and how I liked Germany so far. Nearly three months at Ro-Ro, and I feel almost like a regular student. The school days are still long and draining, but I catch myself following along more easily, and engaging in discussions from time to time.

I have tried to explore the city as much as I can--or as much as my exasperated brain can take. Having my sister, Hannah, visit for two weeks allowed me to wander the obscure streets with a much-appreciated familiarity. Hannah had traveled around Europe for three weeks, and had a two week break before she started her semester in Paris. My generous host parents offered her a place at their home, so we planned to meet at the Berlin central train station when I came back from my CBYX mid-year seminar in Cologne. When I arrived back in Berlin, I was immediately on the lookout for long hair in a fur coat (despite the many German women who sport similar styles). I searched with my host mom at the few places we suggested meeting, and just when I thought we would have to hunt through the entire station, we found her. Sitting outside in the cold, surrounded by suitcases, sat Hannah. I sprinted towards her with my arms open, ready to suffocate her with my embrace. She saw me and began running too, and shortly before we grasped each other, I saw what one rarely sees from Hannah: tears. We clinched each other tightly, and I asked "Why are you crying?" as my vision blurred with water. We separated shortly, and she said "It's been hard saying goodbye to everyone, and I'm just really glad to see you." We hugged once more, and I said "I'm really happy to see you too," as I began to cry. Finally wiping our tears, we headed home together.

Over the course of the two weeks Hannah spent in Berlin, we viewed an exhibit by Mario Testino, tried our very first Berlin currywurst, talked about our travels and adventures, walked together next to the East Side Gallery, went to the Salvador Dali museum, and enjoyed the city with the company of a sister. Of course, our time together ended, and she flew to Paris to begin her studies, but we will reunite soon enough.

Berlin has not yet failed to provide me with overwhelming excitement. Nearly everything in this city is new and wonderful. Mastering the subways, going from neighborhood to neighborhood, exploring the infinite number of cafes and shops, it's strange to think my time here is now limited to two and a half short months.