It’s April now and from what I understand, this month last year brought sun rays, short shorts, and bierchen in the park on Sunday here in Berlin. This year is different. The evenings could euphemistically be described as mild, if only it weren’t so windy. The high noon sun makes a wool coat uncomfortable but riding a bicycle through a shady part of Tiergarten in the evening takes one back to the visible-breath days of March.
My theory, my hope, is that this long-developing blossom into full spring, into summer splendor will make the green leafy canopies and red flaky skin along the Spree all the sweeter. True, it is finally bicycle season in this highly bicycle-able city. We have lanes. We have little lights. It’s an intricate system that accounts for every possible left turn, merging lanes- a three way dance of pedestrian legs, rusty spokes, and those German engineered automobiles- the ones that retain a sick sense of submission to efficiency that historical sites around Germany pin repeatedly as the truly horrific streak that ran through the terror machine of National Socialism.
They dance. The transportation possibilities.
My boyfriend visited me last week- my first Visitor in Berlin. I’ve been living in a pretty boring neighborhood, Wilmersdorf since the beginning of January, partaking in the grand tradition of privileged American higher education systems- the study abroad semester. I decided early on that I’d be sticking around in Berlin for Sommersemester- four months longer than originally planned. It didn’t take long for me to realize that the snow, the lingering mono, the silent faces on the U-Bahn every morning could hinder my root deploying, appendage wrapping aims.
Visitor business.
Berlin is vast. Wilmersdorf’s offerings in the departments of interesting vegetarian food, museums, large parks, Spree loafing and other highly desirable Berliner experiences, are lacking. Fortunately, one need only jump on the U-Bahn, a bus, or a bicycle to flee the affluent neighborhood for to seek what Berlin does well- grunge. There is plenty to go around but it ain’t in Wilmersdorf. One must wander. My normal daily trek to school and around town lends itself to U-Bahn transportation. For starters, I have yet to secure a bicycle- a gaping hole indeed in my life in Deutschland. The pickings in Berlin are cheap- 50 to 100 Euro at the flea market for a rusty, ill-maintained townie- but not elegant. By still, why have I chosen to daily duck down the stairs of the concrete station to the U-Bahn platform? To wait for a bright-yellow bullet of numb Arbeiter and Studenten? Perhaps I’ve fallen. To German efficiency. To taking what is easiest. To the bitter winter cold of above-ground bus stops.
Seth, that’s my boyfriend, didn’t want to take the U-Bahn. “Is there a bus we can take?” Of course. The whale machine team of the Berlin bus system rivals, I imagine, the complexity of the movements of our white blood cells or the tenacity of bed bugs. So we took the bus when we could. We sat up top on the double deckers when they were available and we watched the city lights as we passed them by. One day we even rented bikes. Returning them hurriedly one afternoon last week, I felt my way across the city from Wilmersdorf and guided us up through Charlottenburg, across Tiergarten, along Unter-den-Linden, Museum Insel, Mitte and finally to our bike Verleiher in Prenzlauer Berg. There were no time tables to reference or maps to study just as there were no solemn faces to avoid on those top seats up front on the bus- just the reflection of ourselves, smiling and tired, a system of two bodies- leaning, shifting, dancing.
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