I came long ago from another century speaking another language feeling another life rhythm. And then after a few years of much stumbling and stuttering with my marshmallow tongue and smattering of cultural understanding, my children were born out of my body, tied thinly and ever so precariously to their forefathers from lands farfar away. There was no one there reminding me or teaching them of the sounds and rhythm of our ancestors. So, I raise my children as best I could, but conspicuously of my displacement in the clicking of my tongue and the beating of my heart. They are the flesh of my flesh; even though the words they use to explore and express their world will never be those I would have used before I Came Away.
The young spring grass
Grows up through the brown grey
Remnants of the long dark winter.
On the corner wooden fence post
Rests a hawk. Standing guard...
Completely still, except for a few
Feathers lifting in the sweet breeze.
My daughter and I are going on a long train journey for a ridiculously short period of time. In my heart there is this happy trippy dip sitting in the first of three train we will be riding in today.
After living so many years here, the delight in the Bundesbahn doesn't diminish. My friends and family find this both silly and endearing.
Times change and so does technology. Not only the fiber optic speedways, but also the low tech stuff as well.
I am on my way south on my favorite Bundesbahn and I noticed something. The railway tracks are built on cement pilings and not wood ones, as they once were. Gone are the days of my childhood in Canada when we would wander down railway tracks in the countryside, heading to the next village store.
I imagine the cement used now is some super duper bionic material that is completely impervious to weather conditions, all the while being amazingly strong and flexible at the same time. Strange to think of some engineer spending their time inventing such a material. Not media worthy news. Yet it is used over thousands of miles of tracks.
One of the reasons I decided life in Germany is a fine thing, is its long standing tradition of cafes. In every town and city there are a wealth of cafes to explore.
The cafe in the photo is fantastic in its simplicity of decor, excellent lunch, and proximity to one of my favorite museums in Berlin, the Berggruen.
It is also the first place where I met with my new-found blogging friend, Charlotte, for the first time in person. So, if you are reading this, Char, in your home far away, greetings from Charlottenburg.
The day rose grey and cold. We sat long over breakfast and got caught up with all those familiar topics friends talk about, who haven't seen each other in a year's time.
To outsiders it might appear we are serving ourselves to a smorgasbord of random thoughts and happenings, but to connoisseurs there is a method underlying our conversational meanderings. We taste certain sweet bits first and save the sadder, lovely bits for later. It doesn't matter what we are discussing, there is such a sense of good will, a fine tingling lightness lingers as I go and brush my teeth and get ready to go into the city.
We travel by bus, train, streetcar, bus, walk along long ugly streets whichwas once Eastern Germany. The endless uniform apartment blocks were built sixty years ago under the communist /socialist regime.
The last twenty, since the wall came down, there has been a lot of effort and money spent to create change. The only thing a stranger like I can see is in the diverse looks of the people' s faces populating the sidewalks and the fantastic organic food served in a nearby cafe.
The greyness permeates my outer winter self. The only warmth is in our laughter.
I am on my way to my favorite yearly outing to Berlin.
A long weekend of chatting over endless cups of tea, good food, lot's of laughter and exciting exhibits to see...
Will try and keep you updated. I'm trying to go mobile.