One of my supervisors had mentioned a phenomenology exercise she was assigned while completing her degree: to describe coffee for a week without using the word coffee. The dark liquid on the flight from Chicago to Paris felt well captured by this quote for 1984: “It gave off a sickly, oily smell, as of Chinese rice-spirit. Winston poured out nearly a teacupful, nerved himself for a shock, and gulped it down like a dose of medicine.”
On the flight, the woman next to me had some sort of therapy-level psychology degree, but was on her way to see her long-distance husband in...Algeria, maybe? I can't remember, a North African country? They had met through his brother who worked as a lawyer in the U.S., she had initially tried law school but dropped it. Her husband had a large farm and so she only did a bit of consulting now as he could support her fully, but I still struggled to understand what it would mean to study to be a therapist and then not want to be a therapist. For the better though, if that's not what she wants to do, that she doesn't do it. If I remembered her name I would look her up, but a month on and her name escapes me.
I was pleased that though Yosef arrived earlier than me, he needed to go through customs, resulting in him only waiting for me for only half an hour before we met. I had already gone through customs at my layover in Paris, then gone to brush my teeth and reapply deodorant - a travel tip from my mother (our? does mentioning my brother necessitate using our mother here?) After that, in desperation, I had eaten sushi at the counter while I waited for the second flight. Sushi that came with sweet soy sauce packets, much to my dismay and bewilderment. When I did land in Berlin, I was glad to see my brother’s face, even though he snipped at me before we had even made it to the Ubahn, likely in response to me telling him what to do. Older-sister habit I am trying to kick. Yosef pointed out the cloth-towels at the airport restrooms, a seemingly endless single roll of reusable towel.
We made our way to Zimt and Zucker, a café recommended by my friend Bianca’s sister. I asked if we could sit outside since otherwise our suitcases would be in the way, but the hostess responded there are no more spaces outdoors, and that our suitcases will be in the way regardless. She seated us at the same table as a couple who arrived shortly before us and had ordered what seemed like chocolate with milk poured over it. They stirred it and it broke up the chocolate a bit but never really transformed into chocolate milk and they left without quite finishing it. Yosef got a Berliner Weisse, a drink I had almost forgotten existed: beer with sweet, flavored syrup mixed in. I drank a cappuccino and we both got crepes. The cappuccino was the first in a series of disappointing drinking experiences. It turns out the American way of defaulting to a double shot for a larger quantity of milk is not the standard elsewhere. A few frothy milky mistakes finally caused me to reconsider my drink order.
We sat around awhile after figuring out how to get to Dresden, using the 1euro bathrooms that take place of the free public restrooms we have in the US. We had meant to use Deutsche Bahn, which includes regional rail, but we were far too tired to navigate another transfer and ended up opting for a more expensive direct train. A Muslim woman asked me how to use one of the other ticketing machines and I gestured at our suitcases to explain that I don’t know my head to tail here. A large Russian-speaking family sat on the bench next to us. Finally, we got on the train and found seats, and Yosef and I took turns sleeping on the train as the countryside pulled past us. Our Airbnb was a short walk from the train stop and thus concluded a full day of travel.
I was pleased that though Yosef arrived earlier than me, he needed to go through customs, resulting in him only waiting for me for only half an hour before we met. I had already gone through customs at my layover in Paris, then gone to brush my teeth and reapply deodorant - a travel tip from my mother (our? does mentioning my brother necessitate using our mother here?) After that, in desperation, I had eaten sushi at the counter while I waited for the second flight. Sushi that came with sweet soy sauce packets, much to my dismay and bewilderment. When I did land in Berlin, I was glad to see my brother’s face, even though he snipped at me before we had even made it to the Ubahn, likely in response to me telling him what to do. Older-sister habit I am trying to kick. Yosef pointed out the cloth-towels at the airport restrooms, a seemingly endless single roll of reusable towel.
We made our way to Zimt and Zucker, a café recommended by my friend Bianca’s sister. I asked if we could sit outside since otherwise our suitcases would be in the way, but the hostess responded there are no more spaces outdoors, and that our suitcases will be in the way regardless. She seated us at the same table as a couple who arrived shortly before us and had ordered what seemed like chocolate with milk poured over it. They stirred it and it broke up the chocolate a bit but never really transformed into chocolate milk and they left without quite finishing it. Yosef got a Berliner Weisse, a drink I had almost forgotten existed: beer with sweet, flavored syrup mixed in. I drank a cappuccino and we both got crepes. The cappuccino was the first in a series of disappointing drinking experiences. It turns out the American way of defaulting to a double shot for a larger quantity of milk is not the standard elsewhere. A few frothy milky mistakes finally caused me to reconsider my drink order.
We sat around awhile after figuring out how to get to Dresden, using the 1euro bathrooms that take place of the free public restrooms we have in the US. We had meant to use Deutsche Bahn, which includes regional rail, but we were far too tired to navigate another transfer and ended up opting for a more expensive direct train. A Muslim woman asked me how to use one of the other ticketing machines and I gestured at our suitcases to explain that I don’t know my head to tail here. A large Russian-speaking family sat on the bench next to us. Finally, we got on the train and found seats, and Yosef and I took turns sleeping on the train as the countryside pulled past us. Our Airbnb was a short walk from the train stop and thus concluded a full day of travel.
