F' you!

(F is for friends)

Wednesday: The Circus hostel, which we will henceforth refer to as the nice hostel, is located in the centre of Berlin and operates a walking tour every Wednesday around Kreuzberg, where I would like to live. I decided to take the tour and ended up chatting to a few people.

Later that same day I popped downstairs in the nice hostel for a drink before bed (it was not even alcoholic in nature) and got talking to some people while sat around in the foyer. A few more girls came in and joined in the conversation. One of these girls is Eva, who it turns out is not staying in the hostel. She lives in Berlin. In fact she moved to Berlin with no friends, no German, nowhere to live and no job!

Other people do it too!!!

To make her that ounce more crazy, she had never been here before. I still can’t even believe that part. She ordered me to take her number, add her on facebook, and come to a pub quiz with her next week. (I heart pub quiz).

I also met some of the people from the walking tour who invited me to the bar for a drink and we ended up having one of those awesome nights where you drink, discuss politics and then dance like idiots. All in all Wednesday night was awesome. Especially as I’d just popped downstairs for a diet coke.

Friday: Eva text and invited me out for a drink I Neukölln. We met at 7 and went to a bar, and then for pizza. We found another bar and… well…

I have something to confess. It’s one of these things that I probably shouldn’t talk about on the internet where so many people could read about it, but I decided on an oath of honesty when I began this blog. So far I haven’t really had call to talk about anything of this nature…

The other night I went out to a bar, had a few drinks, and, well, to cut to the chase, I sang karaoke.

Like with most people, it all started innocently. Eva wanted to sing a song and so to begin with I was just watching from the sidelines, occassionally cheering and filming the performance with her videophone (she is awesome at karaoke). I, being well aware that I am less good, stayed off stage. Eventually she convinced me to sing a song, and promised me she’d join me on stage when it was my turn. First I was just singing ‘Valerie’ with Eva, but beer flowed and by around midnight I was on stage alone… singing ‘Umberlla’… with a fake Barbadian accent?? (not cool Helen, not cool). I was so awesome that a man gave me a rose mid performance. I’ll ignore the fact that after I was done he came to get it back because it turned out he had stolen it and was in trouble.

Monday: I joined a forum here in Berlin for ex-pats who get confused by Germans and want to rant about it online. Alright, it’s a bit better than that, but apparently people get pretty heated in online debate eh?

Well, I started emailing this guy Jason who had also posted on the ‘newbie’ thread. He’d had some issues with a friend in Berlin who turned out not to be much of a friend at all and was looking to meet people for coffee. Awesome. I like coffee. (Everywhere in Berlin serves latte machiatos. I am in heaven). Eventually, as for two people who have no friends, we seem to be awful busy, we met in Prenzlauer Berg. We went to the cafe-del-Pugador for coffee and wandered into Mitte later for some beers by the river. Between sneezes, as we’re both disagreeing somewhat with Berlin’s pollen, we had a nice chat about Berlin, secret celebrity abortions he found out about in LA and whether or not James Franco can do comedy (he can).

So I guess, for a first week, my first objective isn’t going too badly. Not too badly at all. 

All about my FLAJ

Alright! Calm down! It’s only been a couple of days. There’s no need for all the emails and text messages asking where the next blog post is! I just moved to a new city. I’m very busy, you know, getting lost and, er, sleeping. (Haha, since I ironically wrote this people have commented on facebook)

Seriously though, I think it’s about time I spoke to you about my FLAJ problem. While I’m sure those of you who know me well are intimately aquainted with it, I thought I should document it for posterity. So when I’m in the throes of senile dementia I can look back on all this and think things like ‘wow, this kid needs to improve her grammar’.

So what’s this FLAJ problem? That’s what you’re wondering. That’s pretty much the first thing you ask everyone, I’m sure.

Well, FLAJ is my acronym. Despite being voted ‘Best Memory: Malvern 2011’ I lack the talent of remembering lists. And, well, ‘problems I am bringing to Berlin’ is quite some list. So I created an acronym to help me deal with it.

F is for friends

I have no friends. I mean, I have you guys, obviously, but none of you live here, you idiots. So because all of my friends rudely opted not to live in the same country as me (except Sophie, but I’ll save that for another post), I am a loner. I mean, obviously, it has it’s upsides. Some things are better with just one person… such as monologues.

Objective one: find people. Meet people. Get coffee with people.

L is for Language

Me: ‘I’m moving to Germany’

Anyone else: ‘So, you speak German, yeah?’

Things which have so far confused me: adverts, street signs, grafitti, packaging, men on the u-bahn platform giving me directions, women in the bank giving me directions, the Germans in my hostel room having a long chat…

Things which have so far confused Germans: me.

Objective two: learn more German.

A is for Apartment

Right now I am looking for somewhere to live. A shared flat in Kreuzberg ideally. I’d prefer to live with people who speak English so that I am not living in a permanent state of confusion, but we’ll see what happens to be honest.

Objective Three: find a flatshare.

J is for JOB

No. Not that kind of job (seriously, someone just offered me one in exchange for a cigarette… actually that should be ‘wanted me to offer him one’). But you know, an actual means of earning money, which doesn't involve sexual activity. That, for me, would be the piece of the puzzle that makes this whole thing make sense.

Anyone else: ‘so! You have a job there! That makes sense’.

You know? No. You don’t know. You never moved somewhere where didn’t know anyone, couldn’t speak the language, didn’t have anywhere to live and didn’t have a job.

Objective four: find a job


As a long-ago-ex slowly asked questions about every aspect of my move, I slowly answered and explained ‘I’m not taking any solutions with me to Berlin, only problems’. And he, knowing me well, responded ‘Ah, like the rest of your life then!’

But I would rather think of it as an American (who didn’t know my name, par for the course with travellers, and called me by my place of origin) put it:

‘You’ve got some balls London. You’ve got some balls.’

How to move to Berlin

Lesson: About packing

Firstly, it’s imperative that you do this all the night before. The best method is to have three or four bags available and have no firm decisions about which one it would be best to take. It’s definitely more efficient if, to make the decision, you put all of your things into each one in turn, see how they look, and then tip them all out onto the floor.

Also, make sure that you find the most useful things, things you are likely to want and need upon your arrival, and bury them in the hardest place to find. Make sure that reaching them will involve unpacking everything else you own, and after deciding on the most hidden place promptly forget where it is amidst your things. This will come in useful later.

Lesson: About flying

I think I’m very good at flying. I know where to book my seats so that I sit next to empty ones. I know how to pack sensibly so that the things I need (for a make-over) are easy to reach. I know what to take to entertain myself so that I feel like I’m in my own little mid-air spa, so that I can arrive at my destination impossibly refreshed.

But this is for a holiday. This is not for emigration. For emigration it is important, first of all, to book the cheapest flight imaginable. If you live close to an airport, make sure the flight does not go from that airport, and instead ensure that your parents will have to drive for hours in the middle of the night to drop you off. The night part is important, because this will mean that not only is the time an inconvenience to anyone involved, but you will be at your most tired when you arrive in Berlin.

To cheat the baggage restrictions on your budget airline you must wear as many clothes as possible. I would recommend a vest top, a t-shirt, a cardigan, a jumper, a coat, a pair of leggings and a pair of jeans (but feel free to improvise based on your personal style). This will mean you have to pack fewer things and will also ensure while rushing to your gate you will be able to efficiently build up an initial layer of sweat. This is an important part of arriving at your destination at you most sweaty. On the tightly packed plane you will be able to disturb complete strangers as you uncomfortably manoeuvre to remove and then replace each of these layers. If these strangers speak German it will help you to develop a bizarre case of English Tourette's where you cannot stop saying ‘sorry’ even though you know perfectly well how to say it in German.

Lesson: About The Way

If you have travelled with me, and are Susie, you will already be aware that it’s pretty critical that you make no notes and consult no maps about the location of your hostel. A vague memory or general district will suffice.

The one way in which I am very much like a man (yes, one), is that I always know where I’m going. Even when I don’t. To emulate this, walk with complete confidence to all locations, look perplexed, and then continue to walk. If you are using a map and arrive in the wrong location then the map you have is wrong. If you board a train and it takes you west when you meant to go east then something has gone wrong with the train. You must never ask for directions. If you ask for directions, they have won. (I don’t know who "they" are… maybe the Germans?)

If you see a train, you should board it without trying to ascertain where it is going. Probability consents there is a fifty per cent chance it will take you where you would like to go. Therefore, assuming there are enough connections on your journey, the laws of probability ensure that you will arrive at your destination (they don’t). Helpfully, in Berlin, if your train is going in the wrong direction and you get off, and switch to the opposite platform as any Londoner might, you will be able to watch as the train you left turns around and takes its passengers in the right direction, and your new train takes you further from your destination.

Once you have left the train, at a guesspoint, as you don’t actually know where the hostel is, make sure you walk aimlessly, with conviction. After thirty or so minutes concede that you need some sort of help and consult the completely illegible maps on your amazon kindle. If it is a warm, beautiful day, this whole process will help infinitely with your sweat objective.

Lesson: About the hostel

The Hostel is not as my mother would imagine it, which according to her description is ‘full of homeless people’ (nope, just me). When you arrive a man will explain to you at length that he is always here to help and advise you about Berlin, that there are various walking tours and parties happening in the coming days that you would be welcome to attend. He will tell you where to buy food and drink and what you will get for breakfast (which is included). He will answer any questions you have and explain the mechanics of the funky touch-screen technology which will give you recommendations for where to go and what to see, when. He will do this all while attempting not to be distracted by your profuse sweating. But be proud that the first person to formally welcome you to the city is also the person most aware of this peak in your sweating career.

When he finishes his speech and informs you that you are unable to check in to the room (shower) and have to instead deposit your belongings in a locker in the cellar, you will come to appreciate your packing diligence as you empty all of your worldly possessions across the floor. Just remember to wait until you have repacked them, and, if you can, have left the cellar altogether, to remember any additional items you might need.

Finally, chose a trendy location (it’s pretty easy in Berlin) to set up your Dell laptop, which makes you look extraordinarily chic. Spend approximately twenty minutes trying to figure out how to connect to the internet, and eventually enlist the help of someone who can do it with the utmost ease to ensure you feel as incompetent as possible.

…

All sarcasm aside, I am in Berlin. I am trying to pinpoint any one of the many emotions I feel, but I can’t. Needless to say they are all awesome. Even at my most tired, and most sweaty (it has mainly subsided now), they are awesome. I am actually here and this is actually happening. This must be how people feel when they win Oscars or get elected president and stuff. Hmmm, this must be how people feel when they achieve something?

I know what you’re saying. ‘Helen, you’ve not yet achieved anything, you don’t have a job, you don’t speak German, you don’t have anywhere to live and you don’t know anyone.’

And to you I say ‘Sorry, I can’t hear you. I’m in Berlin.’