there's a sign on the wall, but she wants to be sure
Sorry if you emailed me and I haven't answered. Ten thousand people apparently decided that the best time to get in touch with me was right when I left the country. I'll answer email as I can.

I'm having a pretty excellent time in Berlin so far. I haven't done much high-culture stuff, but I'll visit a museum or two. I've mostly been walking around, making grandiose artistic plans and doing low-culture stuff.

There's a transit strike on. It doesn't affect all the trains (it's complicated, but basically they're run by different companies -- the second might strike next week, and if both companies strike at the same time then Berlin will really be in trouble and I'll be totally screwed for getting to the airport). This means I do far more walking than I otherwise would and can't stay out incredibly late -- the walking isn't too bad, and the not staying out late is unfortunate but not impossible to deal with. Still, for the day or so that I enjoyed the public transit, I was quite impressed. Even the buses run on time -- to the minute. And it's all quite clean and nice. What's weird is that it seems to function despite the fact that at least half the people I've met don't bother paying for public transit. Conductors on the trains apparently "check tickets" (but don't actually do so), and while you're supposed to show tickets to bus drivers, they don't look closely enough to tell the difference between expired and valid ones.

Trevor, who I'm staying with, keeps an apartment with a Dutchman, an Australian and (I think?) a German. The place is practically a CouchSurfing hub. (Trevor's CouchSurfing profile has a bit that reads, Where does "CouchSurfing" end and "normal life" begin? That line has disappeared for me, and his flat was featured in a recent issue of Zitty Berlin, in an article about couchsurfing and how awesome it is.) I don't think I could handle having so many strangers in my space constantly (though I guess a co-op is arguably a less intense version of this), but it's kinda fun to meet all these Europeans for now. And they've met a lot of people in Berlin through the site, as well.

Everyone seems to speak at least a little English. There are shop signs in English and brand names in English. I've heard from multiple people now that American English peppers nearly every European language; I had thought this was just the case with Japanese, but I guess the whole world is being culturally imperialized. Some Swedes I met jokingly blamed the Internet, then stuck by the statement more seriously.

"Schmuck" is the word for "jewellery" here, so I see it on signs everywhere.

I keep seeing billboards for Lucky Strikes that say "iSmoke" -- that's right: Apple-style. This seems like it has to be a joke, like this blog post that came up when I Google searched for iSmoke, but there's no indication that it's a joke ... just a picture of Lucky Strikes and the iSmoke slogan. I can't decide which would be crazier: if Lucky Strike simply started putting the advertisements out there and risking a giant lawsuit, or if Apple is actually deciding to lend its brand power to Lucky Strike cigarettes. It has to be option #1, but that seems like such a foolhardy move on Lucky Strike's part ....

There is such a thing as a "currywurst". I am pretty excited about this concept. I ate one today, but it wasn't that amazing. Supposedly, a nearby stand (Witty's, in Wittenbergplatz) sells the best currywurst in Berlin. I will go there soon ... it's supposed to be organic, too!

Abandoned Carnival Fun

I sent Trevor a letter before I got here, asking him to locate three things for me to visit while here: the most surprising thing in Berlin, the reddest thing, and the most literate thing. On Monday night, I learned how to make pasta from an Italian couchsurfer (it's much simpler than I thought, but requires a surprising amount of work), and then Trevor wasted no time flinging some espresso at me and showing the surprising one.

In the company of Trevor, another American-turned-European, two Estonians, an Australian, two Italians, a real live German and someone of unknown nationality -- I broke into an old carnival site in East Berlin. And I didn't even get shot at. Now that's surprising. (One thing I've discovered: foreigners and Germans seem to compete in making borderline-offensive jokes about Germany.)

This tells you something about Berlin: this park went under in 2002, and it's still in pretty much the same shape. Security lights turned on as we passed, but we didn't see another soul. It hasn't been cleaned up, changed, rebuilt, or built over. Bits were clumsily Westernized (with a "Sheriff's Office" and everything!). I am tempted to come back over the summer and create a cushioned seraglio in the belly of an enormous tipped-over plastic woolly mammoth. I'm pretty sure I could live there comfortably, if it were warm out.

Genius Concept: Incredible Gaming Café!

Before I came, I already knew that Germany is a great frontier in gaming -- particularly board games. How convenient that, for Tuesday, Trevor and his flatmates had already organized a big CouchSurfing night at The Spielweise: Ludothek, Laden & Café. In searching the Internet I discover that a major board game news site has profiled this place, and thank goodness -- it's wonderful, and deserves every word of praise it receives.

Shelves and shelves of board games line 1.5 walls. The other walls are a clean white, with charming grasses painted at the bottoms. From the counter, you can play any of the board games -- or buy some -- or buy excellent café goods from beer, to tea, to waffles with delicious toppings, to variously garnished toast. You can even rent games!

It seriously has every possible game ... but all of them are in German. Why can't we have a place like this in America? Because board games are (a) less widely developed in America and (b) considered the domain of a certain subculture in America, I suppose .... Well, maybe I'll start such a café / rental / etc place. What kind of district would I do it in? I don't know if any area in Chicago could support such a place .... At any rate, I played some games I already know (and learned an expansion pack for Carcassonne, which is, by the way, a fine little game if you've never played it). Then I got a German to translate the rules for a two-player Asterix and Obelix card game.

The transit strike caught us out on Tuesday night, so I taught some people a card game in a train station and we just waited for the first train from the company that's still running trains. I ended up in bed after 6AM. Not helping my jetlag, but it was a good time.

On the way from the café to the train station, we passed the longest surviving stretch of the Berlin wall. Did you know it's covered in graffiti murals?

Untranslatable Words in Swedish

The Swedes (Finn and Beppe) taught me three Swedish words that don't have easy translations. They're pretty awesome. (The two guys also came up with the idea of suspending a dumpster-dived tabletop from the ceiling on cords, and roping it up to hang above peoples' heads when the room needed space. They then made wry comments about Swedish people designing furniture.)

he: This is something like a combination verb that encompasses do/make/put. Apparently one area of Sweden has no verb for "to put", for instance, so this verb covers that. I guess this verb can cover nearly any simple action. I meant to ask if it could cover "have sex with", but I forgot. Maybe tomorrow. update The verb is not used to cover sexual acts. /update

tika: Like a snack, but a snack taken for the purpose of social interaction rather than eating. The point of a snack, Beppe noted, is usually to feed yourself; well, the point of tika is to interact. It's like, the coffee or danish you buy at a café when you are "getting coffee with a friend", for instance.

lagom: This is the best one. It means "exactly enough", and obviously varies from person to person. I picture it mostly being used in a wry fashion. "How much food do you want?" "Lagom," or "That attractive woman is wearing lagom clothing."

I Laughed for 10 Minutes or So: The Swedish Government Funds Gaming

The Swedes also explained that the Swedish government, which apparently has way too much money, funds all kinds of arts -- including gaming.

But it gets better. The Swedish government funds roleplaying groups (it is after all a clean, social pastime, notes Finn). I am not joking about this: if you start a gaming group in Sweden, then the government will give you about 200 euros to finance your gaming experience. Yes. The government will give you money to buy game books, as well as pizza and beer for your gaming buddies.

I didn't think it could get better than that -- but it does. Beppe and Finn further noted that some of their friends have done things like create gaming groups because they need money. Beppe said he got a call right before he left from a friend, who asked him to be part of a gaming group so he (the friend) could get some extra money for traveling. I think this was the point where I fell on the floor laughing and Trevor said, "You broke her!"

Also, the Swedish stereotype of American gaming is the boring dice-ridden dungeon-crawl. I leave the question of whether this is justified to the student.

Okay, to bed for me. I want to get up before 3PM tomorrow and do some walking in a more distant area.