Stefan Bachmann

Berlin Adventures

 

I have not blogged in 70,000 yearssss. Is blogging dead? Am I dead? Yes, probably, to both, but every few months I remember fondly the lovely little community over on Scathing Jellyfish (which somehow over the last year got another 80,000 hits? Like, who is reading it? Whoooo?) and how I used to post whole blogs about . . . cows. And cake. And visiting a renaissance fair. I don’t even know. And last year I lived in Japan, and did an internship in Prague, and blogged about pretty much none of it. Lame.

Anyway.

I’m moved! To Berlin. I love it. It’s very different from anywhere I’ve lived before, much more relaxed than Zürich, much huger than Prague. But the main difference is that people are soooooo busily active here.

Which is a change, let me tell you. I’m a merry lil’ introvert and can coast along happily on 2-3 meaningful social interactions per week.

Examples of meaningful social interactions for a Stefan:

One of any of those and I’m like, “Whew!” *wipes brow* *returns to apartment* *ensconces self*

But in BERLIN this . . . doesn’t fly. Here it seems like everyone is always doing things. And not work things.

Kind, well-meaning Berliner friends: “Stefan, d’you want to come to my sister’s aunt’s baby’s baby shower? Do you want to grill radishes in an abandoned airport? Do you want to protest nuclear armaments, but like in a fun, cute way? Do you want to sacrifice a goat to an obscure moon goddess and bathe in its entrails while listening to Enya?”

And I’m like, “I kind of just want to sit on my balcony and write short stories.”

And they’re like, “NO. THE MOON GODDESS AWAITS HER SACRIFICE.” *pulls a screaming goat by its horns from flow-y shoulder-bag*

So somehow I still end up bathing in entrails while listening to Enya.

(I’m kidding, issa joke, I would never, and anyway 99% of Berliners seem to be vegetarian, so they would never either.)

(Also, I think old-school Berliners might protest that statement, but look, Hypothetical Old-school Berliner who somehow stumbled across this blog: there are a lot of vegetarians here, ok? Ok. Thanks for reading.)

 

 

Random Berlin things:

 

The abandoned airport where one might grill radishes with one’s friends if one were so inclined.

 

In Berlin, especially in my neighbourhood were there are a lot of Turkish restaurants and bars, I smell that same straciatellia steam floating on the air and am like, “WHERE IS HE?” *wheels around in a panic, expecting to drop to the ground and do twenty* But he’s not there. So that’s nice.

 

 

Awkward.

Every once in a while I pass him again on my jogs and he gives me a dirty look, and I want to be like, “Sir, I need you to know that I had VERY good intentions, like the communists, but you did not allow me to enact my plans.”

The moral of the story is that when someone asks you for money either say no and stick with it, or tell them to wait while you go get it, but don’t have dramatic changes of hearts halfway up the stairs, mmmkay? Mmkay.

That’s that. Have a nice day. 🙂


6 Comments to “Berlin Adventures”

  1. MB says:

    This is hilarious. However, if I were you, I’d grill the goat and slaughter the radishes.

  2. Sarah says:

    LOVE. THIS. POST.

    Thanks much for sharing! A fascinating and entertaining read, as always, though this is the first time I’ve commented. 🙂

  3. Carley Anne says:

    You figured out how to change the “What I’m Reading!” Happy Dahl-ing.

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