Lausitzer Straße

That's the name of our street in Berlin. This past Tuesday, we flew out to Berlin to look at an apartment we found on Craigslist. Danielle and I were shocked at how closely Berlin resembled New York - the large block buildings, the elevated trains, and the prevalent graffiti.

Before we looked at the apartment, which is the Kreuzberg section of the city (the Eastern most neighborhood in the former West Berlin), we walked around the area. There were multidunous bars, restaurants, and cafes. Oh yeah, and everyone owned a dog. Some of the people on the street were obviously Turkish immigrants, some were starving "artists," and others looked like they just graduated from university. At 11am, we were wondering why none of these people were at work but then realized that Berlin suffers from one of the highest unemployment rates in the nation. As the mayor likes to say, "We are poor, but sexy." Ten minutes away from the apartment and across a beautiful canal was a daily outdoor Turkish market selling fresh fish and produce. The sight of the bazaar sold us on the apartment even before seeing it. Luckily, we were not disapppointed...

We were greeted by 10 foot ceilings laced with intricate mouldings and parquet floors darkened by a thick coat of oil. At 1000 square feet, the place has enough room for us and guests. Even though the building was put up in 1910, the kitchen and bathrooms were remodled only a few years ago. About an hour later, we signed the lease and will move in at the end of September!

Sorry that we didn't take any pictures, but we will have some soon.

Dresden

We initially thought this was going to be a boring weekend, but the complete opposite was true. Dresden was fantastic.

The city was flattened at the end of World War II and even the church photographed on the right was not rebuilt until 2005. Until then, it was just a pile of rubble in the middle of the town square.

Dresden was part of East Germany and along with its War scars, it has plenty of blemishes from this period as well. Almost all of the structures outside the city center were constructed in the communist block style (not sure if that's an official architectual term) which amount to gigantic concrete slabs. The site of these monstrosities makes you think about the nature of the Socialist experiment.

We took a side trip to the village of Meissen which produces famous porcelain products. A teacup with saucer from their factory shop will only set you back 2oo Euros. Walking through Meissen was particularly interesting because so many buildings were abandoned. We walked for about 10 minutes (along the main road) without seeing any people or cars. While we were surprised, this is symptomatic of the former East Germany where (I don't have the statistics) huge portions of the population have moved west seeking better economic opportunities. As my German teacher appropriately describes it, anyone with two legs has left the East.

Pictures to follow.

Straßenverkehrsordnungwidrigkeitsverfahren

That's German for "Traffic Violation." We're offering a package of Abrahams Schinkenaufschnitt (see post below) to those who can properly use this word in a sentence.

What My Grandfather Didn't Tell Me...

I was hoping to be the heir to a herring fortune, but no such luck. It turns out that a major ham producer here in Deutschland is "Abraham - Der Schinkenspezialist". Danielle and I found a package bearing my family's proud name today at the supermarket. Needless to say, I was horrified.

The company was founded by Rolf and Jurgen Abraham in 1971. I wonder if they were Jewish?

You can learn more about this fantastic company at http://www.abraham.de

Urban Art

Dude, what is going on?

I was biking outside of Bonn and came to a rail underpass that is totally covered in graffiti. The man pictured is contributing to the work - in broad daylight, with pedestrians and cars passing. Can you see his gas mask? At least he is health conscious.

How to Become an Illegal Immigrant in Turkey (Part IV)

Danielle writing:

I thought I should take the time to share the exciting story of how I became an illegal in Turkey. While in Europe I have been traveling on my UK passport and David, on his US one. Upon arriving in Istanbul I quickly consulted my traveling bible, aka the Lonely Planet, regarding visas in Turkey. Heeding the advice of my nifty guide, we were both ready to pay 15 Euros to enter the country once we reached passport control. However, once there I was waived through without purchasing a visa, while David had to buy one. At the time I thought it a bit strange, but I should have known never to doubt what the Lonely Planet has to say.

At 2am on Sunday morning, David and I returned back to the airport for our return flight home. Once again at passport control, we struck up a friendly conversation with the officer helping us. It even turned out that he spoke some German and wanted to practice with us. Eventually, David was waived through to the other side while the officer still examined my passport. It seemed to be taking a rather long time for him allow me through to the other side. Finally he asked in broken German "how exactly did you arrive here in Turkey?" Perplexedly I looked at him and said "by plane" thinking what kind of idiot am I speaking with- after all we were in the airport. "Well how did you get in without a visa?" he replied. After trying to explain that the officer on the way in had told me I didn't need one, this officer went off to consult with the rest of his team (who looked like a bunch of burley teenagers standing around telling dirty jokes.) Eventually the "head officer" approached me and told me I would need to purchase the visa now. That was fine with me but David and I had absolutely no money on us and the man was adamant that we pay in cash. Now if you've ever tried arguing your way out of something with a Turk you'll know this didn't end well. At hearing my excuse of having no cash the officer began to scream over and over that this was not his problem (still don't know how he worked that out as it was one of his men that allowed me through in the first place) and that I would not be allowed to leave Turkey. Not wanting to be a new Turkish immigrant I asked if we could use an ATM to draw some money for the visa. I was permitted to do this but then had to report to the information desk to clear up the issue.

At the information desk, the attendants had absolutely no idea how my situation could have possibly occurred. In fact they didn't really even know how to deal with it. All one man said was "yes these things happen in Turkey." Then they requested a document from the officer who had sent me there. Not knowing what on earth that was, I explained that I had been given no such thing. Again, silence. After a few minutes I was made to point out the officer who had sent me there. Well this seemed to really send the officer into a tail spin. He stomped over to where I stood and began a rampage of how if I left now without a visa I would never be welcome in Turkey again. I would have a note in my passport saying that if I where to ever return I must swiftly be turned out. After about five minutes of this we finally managed to pay and I was awarded my visa (pictured top left) which was really nothing more that a dinky little sticker and a stamp. Quickly we ran from the officer and headed for shelter at out gate.

Turkish Bath (Part III)

Sorry folks, no pictures here.

A trip to Istanbul wouldn’t be complete without a trip to the Turkish Bath. We went to a bath which priced for the tourists. Their claim was that Suleiman the Magnificent used to be bathed at their facility. The only sure thing was that our concierge was getting a kick back for every guest he sent to this bath. I should note that bathing suits were worn throughout this entire event.

After getting over the initial embarrassment, we were ready to head into the great marble steam room and bathe. We were given wooden clogs to walk around in. I kept thinking I was going to fall over and split my head on the stone. Other than that fear, the experience was very relaxing – except for one thing. My "bather" turned me over on my back and slapped me on my stomach. Then said something to me in Turkish which could have been anything from, “Hey, hot stuff” to “You need to work on that six pack” (the latter more likely of the two). Regardless, being talked to in that position of vulnerability was humiliating.