What I Like Today.

Yesterday someone asked me why I like Germany.  Most of my time in Germany has been spent in Berlin, so my response really described why I like Berlin.  I've got a good list, but I'm also still finding answers to this question, and probably will be for a while.

What I like about Berlin today:

Sun.  Blue sky.  The fact that these are things to celebrate.  I left my bed almost a full hour before my alarm because I looked out the window.

It's like the whole world's represented here.  The guy who asked me why I like Germany is from north Africa.  He's married to a woman from Germany, who I met through a friend from Russia.  Last night I hung out with a girl from Belgium.  It goes on and on.

Berlin seems like this funny mix of city and not.  As though someone took a big, important, skyscraper-type city and stuck it on top of a friendly, park-filled neighborhood kind of city, fitting things into place until it was Berlin.

This is what I like about Berlin today.  But it's only a little past noon, so it's an unfinished list.

Some things I saw as I walked around Berlin.

Last month, Christmas markets filled the city.  In a post a while back, I gave a description of the first market I attended.  That one, located in my favorite of the 'tourist spots' in the city, was fancy and beautiful.

Later, someone from Germany showed me a great Christmas market hidden away in a neighborhood.  People filled the market, but it was cozy and perfect.  Walking there on my second visit, I discovered this car, on which someone had left a "love note" in the snow.

The gold squares on the ground around Berlin bear the names of persecuted Jewish people who were removed from the buildings in front of which the squares are set and taken to concentration camps.  One rainy day, my roommate and I noticed that someone had honored these memorials with their own tribute.  Siegfried and Fanny both died in the year after they were taken from their homes.

My dad and I might be the only two people who would get a kick out of getting wet wipes along with my meal at McDonald's in Berlin, so this picture is for him.

I'm pretty sure (thanks to Google Translate, which is super helpful) that there are at least three languages on this thing-- English, German, and Czech.

Christmas holds different things for different people...

Weinachtsmarkt.  Christmas pudding.  Hot weather and lots of cooking.  Sausages with potato salad.  Parade through town.  Christmas carols around the piano.  Goose.  Presents on Christmas Eve.  Presents on Christmas morning.  Sleep.  Candlelit service.  Friends.  Family.  No celebration.

These things are aspects of the Christmas season experienced by people from six different countries. One of the most interesting, enjoyable, and eye-opening things about spending Christmas in this new place has been to see the Christmas holiday through the eyes of friends.

People have talked about the fact that during this year of life in another place, "normal goes out the window."  Sometimes throwing things out windows can feel really fun.  It's exciting to experience whatever fills the spot that normal once held.  But that phrase can also feel like a fur coat in July-- I want to shrug out of it, and sometimes I begin to panic, because I'm pretty sure heat stroke isn't fun.

Though I'd be inclined to think Christmas would fall under the 'fur coat' category, that wasn't the case.

Normally, on Christmas Eve, I love to stand with my family in the pew of my home church, grasping a lit candle and singing "Silent Night."  I keep the blaze alive as long as possible, because this is my favorite part of the evening.

This year, I stood in the balcony of a 100-year-old German church, sang a song in Latin describing the coming of a Savior, and looked out at the faces of friends.  We sang carols on the way there and threw snowballs on the way home.

Normally, on Christmas morning, my sister and I wake up, throw on our robes, and make our way downstairs to the living room, where the Christmas tree glows and breakfast-- bread eaten every December 25th-- will bake soon.

This year, on Christmas morning, two miniature Christmas trees greeted me from my kitchen window as I gathered goods to make breakfast-- scrambled eggs and waffles-- at another apartment.  There, we piled presents under a Christmas tree fashioned from a green blanket and post-it notes.  It was truly one of the most special Christmas trees I've had.  And we cheered as we opened each gift.

Normally, for Christmas dinner, aunts, uncles, cousins, and grandparents gather for dinner-- ham, butterscotch pie, and so much more.  We open gifts again, play my favorite card game, and stay overnight, waking up to my aunt's breakfast spread.

This year, for Christmas dinner, friends gathered for food-- porkchops and bratwursts, peanut butter pie, and so much more.  I met new friends, read about Christmas, and had fun conversation all through the evening.


I love the normal, and I love the new.  And I love the fact that the center remains the same.