Guten Tag Wedding

This week we said goodbye to our first home in Berlin. It was in the bourgeois neighbor of Charlottenburg also known as "sleepy Charlottenburg". We had become used to the daily rhythm of life in the former British sector of Berlin . . . impressive architecture, a three hundred year old palace, expansive gardens, museums full of Matisse and Picasso, and our daily trip to the local ice cream parlor where they knew us by name. As you can imagine, it was with much reluctance that we once again packed-up our enormous black duffel bags and schlepped everything down three flights of stairs to the awaiting taxi. It was then that I realized the Thompsons had officially become Gypsies.

We haven't found a long term housing situation so we had to find another temporary pad for a couple months. There weren't too many choices but luckily we found a beautiful apartment that is spacious and filled with light and plants. Plus, the apartment comes with a box of locally grown organic veggies delivered to our door every Friday morning. The owners, a Russian lady and her German counterpart, left us with an enormous library and ripening tomato plants on the balcony. It might sound somewhat idyllic but a mere fifteen minute taxi ride north over the River Spree has brought us into a whole other world.

The first couple days in the district of Wedding were a bit shocking. There is a mosque across the street, the majority of the women wear headscarves, and the dominant language is Turkish or Arabic. I felt like I had a huge banner across my chest that screamed "Americans" and, honestly, I was a little nervous on our first nightly stroll. So this is what it feels like to be out of your comfort zone. Life is not easy here and it is written on people's faces.

But by the second day I started noticing the sounds of laughter. Inside our flat when the balcony doors are wide open I hear the kids down on the street kicking a soccer ball, when I walk through the park I hear large groups of women chatting intensely, and on my early morning walk with Princess I notice the same three elderly Turkish men happily arguing amongst themselves. This neighborhood is alive. By the third day Elena was dancing down the street, Lydia was ordering Turkish pastries from the bakery next door, and we found the best Indian/Afro market in the city where you can buy everything from bulk curry to hair extensions.

Today we hopped onto the bike trail behind our house and cruised along a tree lined canal filled with ducks and the lull of crickets. Who would have known? When I told a sleepy Charlottenburger that we had moved to Wedding she let out a little gasp of horror, but that is OK, this gem will be our little secret.