Trust in me. The first thing I have picked up since moving to Berlin two days ago is illness. Perhaps in my willingness to learn a new language, to open myself up to new cultures, I have lain myself wide open and highly susceptible to contagious disease.
And so what it there to say, if I do not try and say everything at once? Well, we are here.
The flat is beautiful, light and airy – and much larger than we imagined. Kreuzberg is exactly as imagined, which is to say I could not presuppose what we were letting ourselves in for. Turns out that we live in a friendly, vibrant community where street cafes and trees line the long straight streets and safety feels to be all around us.
At the end of our street is a small platz with a children’s playground, ice cream shops and vegan restaurant. Further still is the main road with its Turkish cafes which were alive last night thanks to a last-minute goal in the Euro 2008 group match. Cara and I drifted down the street surrounded by hundreds of jubilant fans waving flags and saluting the chorus of speeding, hooting cars. This is the largest community of Turks outside of Turkey, and we are beginning to like it here.
Internet has not been a priority as yet, but slowly we find ourselves unable to arrange engagements, so today we strike out in search of communicative shores. There seems to be so much going on that without guidance we become lost. We met up with Transmediale folks on our first day and they have promised us various expeditions to tiny unadvertised galleries and secret gigs, so the networks have begun to enlarge already. Yesterday felt a little isolated, both through illness and itinerary, but Cara and I have somehow settled into an immediate rhythm of homeliness; with her there is nothing foreign here. How this affects my writing, in light of previous statements and intent that to write requires a foreignness to be at hand, remains to be seen.