this one's for mom

For as long as I can remember, potato salad has been my favorite food. It literally makes me a little anxious when the prospect of potato salad is near. For every birthday, family celebration or visit, or vacation, potato salad was always my number one request. From Me-ma's german model, to Grandma Lennie's paprika topped version; my mom's low fat to Sheila's diced style in a aluminum pan (to name a few...and YES I remember them all) I enjoyed potato salad for many years and from a very young age. It is only now that I have reached the realization that when I want potato salad, I can have potato salad. And after my second attempt, I'm quite pleased with the result. I would like to share with you my recipe.

Christopher's Berlin potato salad:

about 8-10 small boiled potatoes, cold (delblemished but not skinned)

2 german gurkens (pickels) diced

3 hard boiled eggs chopped

1 large cucumber chopped

2.5 small onions or 1 large onion chopped

2 tbsp mayo (I prefer miracle whip)

1 small container of light sour cream

Salt and fresh rosemary to taste

Combine all ingredients in a large bowl and mix together.

Best flavor attained after sitting for a few hours or over night.

I can actually say that as I made this delicious dish, I took all of my fine potato salad memories and put them in with love: creating a new breed of the age old backyard barbeque side dish and traditional german snack that encompasses all of my favorite varieties from home--with my own personal flair.

Paul cooked too. His addition was a egg/onion/ground beef combo that was delicious with fresh chopped tomatoes and, of course, the potato salad. We enjoyed a meal that was not pasta. And that's a big deal for us.

This post was made possible by Me-ma's german roots, Grandma Lennie's cookbook, my mother's endless hours of cooking, Sheila and Chris R.'s weeks of babysitting, and the south's general destruction of the great dish that is potato salad.

Dreams

Hold fast to dreams

For if dreams die

Life is a broken-winged bird

That cannot fly.

Hold fast to dreams

For when dreams go

Life is a barren field

Frozen with snow.

-Langston Hughes

While walking under cloudy skies in chilly Berlin this morning before 9 and before my body usually finds its way to the streets, I thought about my dreams. Not the goals and wishes I have for my life--but the darker, mysterious, and ambiguous world of my sleep.

I have experienced strange new things. Tried things I have never tried before. Been terrified--for my life, my wellbeing, and that of others. I have been sickeningly disgusted, I have felt love, I have cried, and laughed and smiled. A gun to my head. People from another planet. Distant memories. Inspiring figures. Catastrophic tragedies. I have snored.

I hope I do them all some blistery slightly miserable morning before 9. For what is life without dreams?

Munchen

Rented a car this weekend and drove the Autobahn to Munich for Oktoberfest. Paul, Annie, Tim (Chawa-gaga) and I set out on Friday morning for Bayern (Bavaria). The driving here is amazing.

Here's a few stats for our Berlin-Munich drive:

Model: VW Passat

Average speed 180kph (about 108 mph)

Top speed 210kph (about 126 mph)

Distance about 600km (5.5 hours)

Cost of 1 tank of gas €90 (about $130)

Windmills seen: endless

When we got to Munich it was about 4:30 and we got a parking place right in front of the apartment where we were staying. I met a couple of "Muncheners" at Kesner in NYC this summer and Daniel, who lives in Munich (his girlfriend Christine lives about 30min away) was kind enough to let me and Paul stay at his amazing flat about 4 blocks from Oktoberfest (Wiesn).

After throwing on a pair of liederhosen and traditional socks, we were out the door for the park. All the tents were completely full already, but Daniel's brother knew someone at one of the tents/houses so we got through and managed to get a beer. The Mass, which is one liter of beer is stronger here than the usual brew (didn't manage to find out why...except for the people singing and dancing on tables...seems like a good enough cause). After I downed my second Mass of the evening, I was well on my way to...somewhere. We stopped for a quick Hendl (Half a chicken with the most amazing flavors) on the fair grounds walking back to Daniel's apartment.

And then we commenced drinking. Alot. So much. Never before or after or again will I consume so much alcohol. After a couple of hours a group of us left to go to a club. Paul never made it in a cab. APPARENTLY we went to a club. Drank. danced. went to THREE MORE clubs? Drinking all the time. Then we went home? Then I woke up. Here's the miracle: I was NEVER sick. There is something in the water in this place.

Paul had a great time too. He passed out on the bench outside their apartment and was discovered by Christine with a beer in his hand and a pack of cigarettes he didn't smoke nor remembers buying.

At 9am we awoke to the ROAR of tens of thousands of people filing into the Wiesn. By 9:30 ALL the tents were full and CLOSED. People like their beer early here.

After a traditional Bavarian breakfast of weisswurste (white sausage with little condom skins) and pretzels, we spent Saturday getting a fantastic tour of the city of Munich. It is so different than Berlin. I always mention how much destruction and identity confusion there seems to be in Berlin. Munich embodies history, culture, and tradition. Every building, person (the liederhosen and dirndls helped), and corner of this city feels ENTIRELY German. Like stereotype. In the most Bavarian way. It's just beautiful.

After a delightful dinner, our overworked and underpaid hosts drifted off to the deserts episode of Planet Earth, and Paul and I headed to a Rave about 25 minutes away. Yep. Check.

I had THE MOST fun in Munich. Daniel and Christine showed more hospitality than I could have ever imagined from someone I met once for 20 minutes on the other side of the world. If the rest of Munich is anything like them, then this truly is really quite close to heaven.

Dirty Projectors/Tuneyards

Went to a Dirty Projectors concert tonight in Kreuzberg, just down the street from our apartments.

Cool venue--Festsaal Kreuzberg. Three disco balls, two bars, balcony, red curtain, courtyard. 78% of the people there spoke English, and I'd say 40% were from NYC. Basically we were in Williamsburg.

The opening act was Tuneyards. This girl was COMPLETELY CRAZY. She was so bold and alive and enjoying her time on stage--really a great performer. She used a loop machine to record her voice, drum beat, or her own beat boxing for each song...which made me thing of my talented good friend James Monaco who is probably making some really great music right now.

The Dirty Projectors played for over an hour with two encores. You should check them out if you don't know them. They are doing some really cool stuff. The three girls have this amazing pipe organ sound that they produce as they intermingle their voices at all sorts of ranges. The group is so good looking too. Relaxed. Having a great time, and enjoying each other's talents.

Two bands worth listening too. Word.

Mcwhat?

That's right, Germany found a way to capitalize on one of the most capitalist enterprises we have in possibly the most ironic way.

"McFit: Just look good."

Ok, sure. I can do that. After being warned about a flesh eating disease (MRSA? Merca?) that American's are sure to get if they even step foot inside a European gym, I was a bit discouraged about the prospect of keeping in shape while I scarf down my wienerschnitzel and pommes frites. I decided to meet my flesh eating friend face to face and found that this is perhaps the most sanitary atmosphere outside the H1N1 (hell, swine flu) vaccine manufacturer in China (thanks CNN...). EVERYONE has a towel that they drape over EVERY machine when they use it. The first time I went, I...did not. I carried my rough one ply paper towel around and pretended that I knew how much 45 kilos was. I've only been three times and still when anyone asks me anything, I panic as though I've been convicted of some horrible crime and usually the only thing that comes our is "sorry." I do know SOME German. I was delighted when the scale had a lbs. option. I pushed it and my weight flashed- 10:10:45- or something. "Entschuldigung..."(yes German!) I beckoned one of the many blonde fit ladies who works the counter "kennst du....mmmmphhsshh?" I tried to ask her if she knew what the machine was trying so earnestly to tell me. She checked with one of her blonde beautiful friends and confirmed that it was pounds and she knew nothing about it. Language barrier meet weight barrier.

In any case I have found a cheap option for the four months I am here. The eye candy's not bad either.

ANARCHY!

This is the symbol for the anarchists of Berlin. It appears on the wall visible opposite from my balcony in Kreutzberg from my first floor apartment. Last night at around 245am, I woke up to explosions. At first I dismissed it as fireworks as I had heard earlier in the evening, but then--from my open window, I smelled the smoke. I sat up and thought "ooh, bonfire," but taking a closer look, realized that their was a Mercedes SUV aflame about 30 feet from my window in the backyard. Confused (and tired) I got up and walked into the hallway. There I was distracted by a bright orange glow coming from my living room. When I looked out the front of my apartment, I found a second car burning on the street 30 feet the other side of my apartment.

I took the first photo from my living room and the second from the front door of my building. This car burnt so heavily that it completely destroyed the car next to it and damaged two others. As we worried about gasoline explosions, the cars tires and windows blew out in extraordinary bangs. Within 10 minutes the firetrucks and police vans arrived, but the experience was jarring. We evacuated and all of us NYU'ers were awake and confused by the excitement. Turns out, anarchist car burnings are a regular occurance in gentrifying neighborhoods of Berlin.

This map shows the (incomplete) spots where car burnings have occurred around Berlin over the past couple years. Apparently the Berlin Police chief sparked controversy when he warned people not to park their fancy cars in Kreutzberg. I won't be pulling my Mercedes up anytime soon.

Educate Yourself

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8ZZ6GrzWkw0

I may be out of the country, but I haven't missed the ridiculous debate over Obama's speech to school children on September 8. The claim that our President is indoctrinating our children is ludicrous. He said "The future of America depends on you." By keeping their children home from school, ignorant parents are only assuring that their children will go on to be useless, unhappy, fools like themselves.

"If you quit on school, you're not only quitting on yourself, you're quitting on your country." Marxist? Perhaps, but how does this statement hurt any developing child's goal making abilities and drive to be the best they can be?

Perhaps Obama has been through alot. He spoke about the hardships in his life and maybe he even inspired some kid somewhere to do better from themselves. Nah. He probably just corrupted the youth of America.

Truly, from across the ocean, I am deeply disturbed to hear what has been said about this speech even before it was aired on whitehouse.gov. I hope that the institutions of knowledge that I spent so much time invested in and learning from validated themselves by showing this important piece of history on the first day of school. Otherwise I seriously question support of their continued existence and or funding.

All the President is really asking is that we take responsibility for ourselves. If half of the adults in our country could take this simple advice we might be able to exist in a nation and world that is not constantly demonstrating its inability to move forward because of petty over-argued battles.

I wish I had the opportunity to be inspired by this speech while I was in school. To have someone speak that earnestly about my own potential in this country and world would have meant alot to me.

"Asking for help isn't a sign of weekness, it's a sign of strength, because it shows you have the courage to admit when you don't know something, and that then allows you to learn something new." This is advice I can certainly use and HAVE been dealing with over the past 6 months. It's about human connection, something that Fox news, Republicans, Conservatives AND CNN, Democrats, and Liberals could all learn from. It's not that revolutionary, we just need to remind ourselves that without using the simplest help that is available to us--each other--we are all doomed to fail.

Berliners eat ice cream on Saturday

So naturally I had Mexican food. Which I have heard is terrible in Germany, but it was actually very fulfilling. Plus I had bier mit Fanta! That was tasty. Reminds me of the Porrons at Macondo on Houston in NYC. I went to Prinzlauerberg today and biked/walked around. Stepped into a few shops and found things to expensive. While I sat at my Mexican restaurant and all the Germans watched soccer (?some sport nonetheless) I read my Marx readings for homework and pondered critique of religion and how the proletariate is a model of the disintegration of a nation. Interesting guy. Tough reading. MARX, FREUD, & NIETZCHE is going to be a fun class. Later I had ice cream too (after all I AM a Berliner for OVER a week now...).

Since I last wrote I have been a cultural fiend.

On Tuesday, Annie and I saw Die Kleinburgerhochzeit at the Berliner Ensemble. A raucous comedy by my own dear B. Brecht. Comedy? Who knew? €7. Thanks Berlin.

On Wednesday we went to the Berliner Festspiele, a huge nearly 3 week literature festival going on here right now, and heard Arundhati Roy read from her new book Democracy's Failing Light. She is an Indian writer and in this reading focused primarily on the potential civil war coming in her motherland. Her words were shocking, relatable, poetic, intelligent, inspiring, and absolutely made me want to read her book as well as know more about what is going on in the world--not to mention my own backyard. Her reading can be found here should you have the time and interest to check it out (which I would highly recommend): www.literaturfestival.com/upload//roy%20english%281%29.pdf

On Thursday morning our Literature class went three doors down from our school to visit--where?--oh right, Bertholt Brecht and Helena Weigel's home. The two of them--though separated at the time--each lived out the final years of their lives in this beautiful three story apartment building in the middle of east Berlin. They shared the ground floor (and beautiful garden out back!) but then each artist had their own floor above and the two would apparently write notes back and forth when they wanted something from the other. The apartment was giving to the two because the government of the GDR thought that surely if Brecht had a large space, he would host international guests--otherwise, Brecht's onstage commentary did little to please the authorities. I made an appointment with the Brecht archives to visit on Tuesday morning. You can do research and see copies of original manuscripts on what was once Weigel's floor.

Thursday night took me to the Berliner Staatsoper for Verde's La Traviata. I got a fourth row seat for €13. I turned to my (sophisticated?) opera going neighbors and asked "Kann ich lese bitte?" asking if I could read their opera synopsis. They were confused and replied "Englisch?" After one minute of talking I found out that they are related to someone who graduated from Tisch 3 years ago. Small world. The theater went black, the HUGE orchestra struck the opening chords and the primadonna appeared upstage left in a light up dress. She wandered downstage and wowed us all with her crystal clear soprano performance and eloquent characterization. She truly was the only performance up there. The chorus was terrible. Like community theater in Huntsville (no offense, this is a major metropolitan art city) bad. Plus they were in all black--and many in leather. A beautiful evening of italian singing and german supertitles. Oops...you're out of luck here Americans. Looking forward to Il Barbiere di Siviglia and perhaps I will sit through La Boheme again.

On Friday Paul and I biked over to Tempelhof airport. We were surprised to find an almost wholly abandoned monstrously huge building. The gorgeous terminal built btw 1936 and 1941 is made of limestone and was once among the 20 largest buildings in the world AND once among the busiest and most advanced airports in the world. It closed almost a year ago and has since been used for a fashion expo and a concert series. We couldn't get inside the terminal but what we could see was absolutely riveting and haunting. Hopefully we will get back for a tour. A park here would be really swell.

Friday night, a group of about 15 of us ventured to Friedrichshain to a Soul club that Annie found. After wandering around the residential neighborhoods of Berlin's equivalent of Bushwick. Somehow we found this place and it turned out to be a really great time. Two dance floors with really great soul music kept us dancing till 3:30. The fire pit under the outdoor discoball warmed us up as we cooled off from workin it out.

The weather is just great. I can deal with 60 degrees, sure.

First Day of Class

Got up in time to ride my bike to class. Trusting my sense of direction I found the building I was looking for rather quickly. Got a bike lock so my "sehr altes farhad" will not get stolen. First I had German. I signed up for Elementary German II but once we went through some of the material I might try to go to Intermediate I. That would be a class of three people. We shall see. I got some much needed coffee between classes and found myself in "Balzak Coffee." It was Starbucks to the "t". Everything from the counter design to the infamous "tall, grande, venti" sizing system to the designs of every piece of furniture and every sign matched its American counterpart (though Starbucks do spot the streets here as well). My next class was "Marx, Nietzche, and Freud." The class is over two hours long, but I was so intensely interested in everything the teacher had to say. It made me realize how fantastic academic classes can be. When I hear majors like politics, sociology, or economics, usually I just shrug and ask "so what do you wan to do?" not knowing exactly what those studies involve. I realized today that this class (taught by the politics and sociology teacher) is just an extension of everything I have been thinking about recently from capitalism and its effect on the world to what the hell I'm going to do when I get out of this ridiculous theater school with a BFA. The only moment I found myself drifting was when I began to think about my own death while the teacher explained that the intensity of the three philosophers we will study often has a somewhat depressing effect. I was so moved by Riaz Kahn's excitement about the material we will cover that it was truly contagious. I hope everything lives up! On my bikeride home I got "lost" and found a man playing accordion (my favorite) next to the plaza where Nazi student book burnings occured in the late 1930s. What a place I am in.

Potsdam Tour

More than once today on our tour of Potsdam I found myself in an a space talking not about the famous building that was there, but about the building that once stood there. Instead I was usually looking at an empty lot often covered in scattered weeds and or broken concrete. So many times on the lenthy (but helpful) tours over the past few days I have heard the same story. It goes something like this:

Once upon a time there was a beautiful cathedral (or palace or amazing piece of architecture) standing in this spot, but then it was bombed in the air raids of WW2. Then it sat for 20 years in ruins. Then it was restored. Then it was demolished after the fall of the wall because it stood for ideals that were no longer accepted. And then my favorite: Now they are REBUILDING it but (here's the kicker) we don't really know what we want to do with it once it's built.

Berlin and Potsdam are both so beautiful but it's nearly impossible to tell what era a building is from because it was either restored or rebuilt or is just generally confused. I have to wonder what a people who have been surrounded by this kind of pattern for even the last 20 years have done to cope with the tug of war of sorts. This city seems to thrive on destruction as a means of not only economy but as creation itself.

Imagine the ordeal over what to do with the site of the World Trade Center...It was a big controversial contest and still almost 10 years later we still don't have anything in the sky there...but something is started right? I guess I don't even really know the whole story. But there is 10 or 20 times as much of that going on here today. Even my friends who were here a year ago saw a different city. And when I come back in 10 years, who even knows...

That's my rant about history for now. I have so much to learn.

Who'd have known that Frederich the Great had this amazing palace in the middle of Germany that was modeled after his love for French literature and architecture? Sannsouci is this amazing park that is full of green and palaces and hedges and fairytale dreams. When you first walk in the gates you can see 2.83 Kilometers straight through the park to the palace at the far end. And then there are the palaces along the way. This one was Frederich's "pleasure home." Our tour ended outside the palace, so I took a quick bathroom break in this guy Frederich's backyard and then snuck away on my own. As I walked through the gardens I was finally able to take a moment and experience Germany for myself. I wandered, sat under a tree for a while trying to Meditate (thanks Valerie) and just cleared my mind of all the biznass of the last couple days. As I walked out of the park down another path of beautiful trees, I hopped over an old stone wall and found myself in front of the ruins of an old outdoor theater. I walked under the long forgotten scaffolding surrounding the structure and stood on the stage. It was covered in rubble and vegetation, but faintly on the backwall I could make out a scene painting of a beautiful lake (I assume Wannsee, the nearest lake). It reminded me of my mentor, Ron Harris, and his backyard theater that I performed in on the eve of my departure for my initial audition for NYU as he coached me through my monologue. His biggest suggestion: SLOW DOWN. I need to remind myself of this now.

Mauerpark

Got up at 7:15 today to go to the Mauerpark Flea Market. We took the train there with a 20% chance of rain, so we were pretty set on staying dry. By the time we got there it was raining. Fine. A little mud doesn't hurt. Except when you're wearing suede shoes.

Anyway. This flea market is amazing. Purchases:

Lizard(?)/leather vintage wallet (With necessary coin purse section)- €7

Leather backpack- €28

Lennon sunglass/clear plastic frame- €4 each

2 beer steins- €4

BIKE- €30

I managed to ask at each stand: "Wie viel kostet das?" Which I believe is asking "How much is that." I got numbers down, so I became the liaison between non English speakers and my fellow bike searching friends. I was proud to carry on conversation with my Bike seller as we talked about the weather and "wo ich komme aus" (answer: NYC).

Right, so now I have a bike. After bathing my suede shoes and soaking through the ass of my jeans I rode home with my new thrifty friends in the light rain. No deaths only one small wipeout between the 4 of us. Good to know: you can't ride with your bike tires in the tram rail lines in the street. Those are for trams. Also good brakes are really good for good bikes. Oops. Again, no death.

Verdict: flea markets im Berlin ist super!

The churchbells are ringing 12 times now. Must go off for another NYUinBerlin sponsored tour or the surrounding area. yay...

the newest recyclable fashion

Spreewald pickles and duty free haute couture. We somehow managed to stay up until 2am despite our jetlag and are slowly working our way through our new German supermarket purchases including nutella, pickles, red cabbage, beer, beer, beer, and various delicious cookies. Paul is doing a dramatic reading on the origin of cupcakes from Scientific American (including a fine British accent). We are seriously delirious.

pitstop in Zurich

After sitting next to the swine flu from JFK I found myself with 5 hours in Switzerland.

delicious brioche, swiss chocolate to share. swiss francs (no euro)

I'm in heaven. Already.