Trying to find a shorter way home I decided to take the U7 all the way to Berliner strasse and catch the U9 to Birken strasse just a few stops down, but I miscounted swapping trains, jumped on the U6 when I should have stayed course on the U7, and had to jump back on the U6 to the Mehringdam stop.Waiting for the U7 to Rudow to catch the U8 at Hermannplatz then ride that to the U9 would have had a shorter wait time, but one more train. It is also what I usually do. But now, as I’m waiting and additional 7 minutes which drag on like hours for the U7 to Rathaus Spandeu, I’m quickly becoming impatient, and it’s become apparent that my Berliner strasse might be pat my street. I grit my teeth, waiting for the train. Upon checking the map, Berliner strasse is on the way, and while it may have less transfers, because of the wait, it could be just as long. The only difference it makes is if I want to take an extra train or not.

Trust me, there will be more. Pictured: A döner and some excellent beer. Not pictured: The face they’re getting stuffed into.

The man in the background is a very nice bartender. Didn’t get his name or too much of what he said, my German isn’t that good, but he’s friendly in a quiet, Oscar the Grouch way.

Hallo again!
Well, Yesterday was the day! My friend Kristin and I, after staying in a quaint hotel room, collected our things and literally rolled on out to go to the CIEE, Where we got an overview of the events to come.

After our meeting all of us stood out in the square, waiting to be claimed by our host families. A nice Berliner named Carola would say our names as the host people trickled in,  looking for their student. I was picked up by my host family’s oldest son Dirk, a nice young guy with a big fluffy beard and impeccable English. The temptation to cave in and speak nothing but English was strong, especially as the jet lag set in and German became a haze of strong syllables.

We arrived at the apartment, where I met Victoria Behnke, my host mother, for the first time. Victoria was followed quickly by her husband and youngest son, Elias, and the family cat. After a flurry of friendly exchanges and hugs, Dirk left, and I was shown to the biggest room I’ve ever had to myself.

After the introductions and some down tie to get settled in, we set off on foot to the grocery store, a cool ten minute walk or less. Shopping for German food was another experience altogether, and I’m beginning to genuinely appreciate the love of the wurst in this country. At the check out lane I decided to test out my German on a amicable old lady waiting in line behind me. I didn’t understand too much of her German, but was proud to hear her talk to me in German for the entirety of the conversation, meaning I had, for the time being, bluffed my way through the German language well enough for her to take my German seriously and not revert to English.

After walking home with groceries, we sat down for a delicious meal of scrwazbrot mit fisch, kase, und wurst made from meat and liver. It was some of the best meat I ever ate on a singular piece of bread. After a relaxing dinner with amazing beer-the name I will have to find-and a quick run through of the path I must take to get to tomorrow’s class meeting point, I was feeling

Dinner with the host family. The dad’s getting beer.

very acclimated to my new host family.

My hotel room from the door

Guess who’s arrived!
What can I say of Berlin on my first night…Not too much, because It is only the first night, but HOLY COW. I swear these people were raised on a steady diet of protein and steroids, because they are tall. I don’t mean oh, they’re above average.
NEIN.
We’re talking the human equivalent of redwood trees (which, for the rest of the world, are some of the tallest trees around in the west coast) Even most of the kinder are head and shoulders above me. I feel like I should just find Bilbo Baggins and company if I want to be an average height.

That aside, I can’t sing enough praise for Swiss airlines, which got me from Zurich to Berlin about a half hour ahead of time. One must love the German efficiency. As an avid lover of all things new, There is something special about hearing multiple languages ensconce you. For some reason, hearing all these different dialects made me feel like I was a part of something bigger, which, to be frank, is partly true.

Speaking of German efficiency, I must also mention (and hopefully successfully upload pictures of)  the hotel I am staying in for the night. The hotel, Motel One, is extremely space-conscious, like most establishments based in big cities. However, they take space efficiency and comfort and turn it up to 11. At the risk of sounding like a Yelp review, this hotel, (and the rest of Germany from what’s I’ve seen in my limited few hours) makes the most of the small space it has to offer, and somehow makes a sardine can feel like a luxury.

Since this is my first time traveling abroad and I am a simpleton, I had a blast figuring out how to navigate a German hotel room. After about five minutes of petering about the room looking for a light solution, I figured out how this hotel truly stuck it to the term “master key”. If you wanted anything to be done in your room, you had to put your room key into a specific little slot by the foyer. After I successfully managed to piece two and two together and slid the key into place, the whole room came together. Just like that, the lights I’d struggled with blazed, the TV shot up into alertness, and the electromagnetic something-or-other door clicked into place. And the minute I took that mysterious skeleton key out of the slot, the room was once again propelled into darkness.

And so it has *officially* begun!

So it begins?

Yes it does.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bQ9g5zFQwEI