After five nights in Berlin, I'm back on a bus, heading out of the city and out of the country. I've got a 9 hour bus ride ahead of me, and that feels ridiculously long, until I remember that back home, I'd be lucky if that got me out of Texas.
Do I feel that I properly experienced Berlin? Despite having spent nearly a week here, the answer to that, unfortunately, is no. The recovery time for my tooth (still not complete, to be honest, there is quite a bit of pain remaining) significantly slowed me down in my exploration of the city, not to mention the immense size of Berlin. Though the things I did manage to get out and do are certainly classified as time well spent, in my opinion, even if the sadness is still lingering on my mind.
Do I feel I've experienced Germany, at this point? Not even close.
Berlin is a wonderful city, and like many metropolitan areas, it attracts hordes of people from all over the world, to work, visit, study, and live. I heard English spoken in the streets more often than any other language, and while this is convenient as a traveler, it certainly doesn't give one the feeling of having explored another country.
I'll be back. Undoubtedly.
There is still much to see and learn and do.
The day before my birthday, I take two subways and an hour long bus to get from Vienna to Bratislava, Slovakia. My spirits aren't the highest as I stare out the bus window into the dusk like smog of the day. My friend planned this weekend for us, and is meant to be with me, but life happens, and he's become ill over the last few days. However, everything is already paid for, so we agree it makes more sense for me to go, rather than waste the opportunity. So off I head.
I walk even paced through a dark, dirt parking lot, seemingly towards nothing. I check my phone a few times, but according to the map I'm still heading in the right direction. Something in the back of my mind wishes I hadn't lost my knife.
Eventually I see a small concrete hut protruding from the side of the wall. It's covered in graffiti, tiny, and certainly doesn't look like the place I'm meant to be. There is a bright light in the tiny room, and two big dudes standing inside. I can't see anything else. The word "Subclub" is stamped across the top, which is technically what I'm looking for.
Still, I hesitate a moment.
Ah, screw it.
The bouncers stop talking as I enter the light.
"5 euros," one demands.
"Sure...what kind of music is it tonight?" I ask, unable to hear anything, though this is meant to be a club.
"Funky music!" The other one exclaims, slapping a wrist band on me.
I laugh, "Good answer."
Once he's banded me, I see the small opening behind him, which leads me down a long, dark, round tunnel.
Cool, cool.
There is a doorway and another tunnel. But not a single soul in sight.
I walk slowly. What a strange place.
Eventually I pop out into a bar, and boom, there they all are. Shoved into this round room with graffiti on every surface.
You see, this club is actually built underneath the walls of the castle, inside an old air raid bunker. Hence the weird entrance.
Wandering down the long tunnels gives it an Alice in Wonderland feel... Falling down the rabbit hole. I wonder what I'll find on the other side.
I start to dance, and my body warms up quickly. This trip has been amazing, but one of the main things I miss is knowing where to go on pretty much any night to find the funky tunes. I haven't had a proper night of dancing in a while, and my body knows it.
After about 30 minutes I look up to find two women staring at me, intently. They smile when I meet their eyes and one of them waves at me to come over.
I'm pretty out of breath anyway, so sure, why not?
I wander to them.
The woman who waved at me grabs my shoulder and compliments my dancing, the other nodding in agreement.
"So, what're you drinking?" She waves the bartender over.
I get the feeling there is no point in trying to tell her I'm not really drinking, besides...it's my birthday, may as well.
"Tequila!"
She grins and they exchange an approving glance. "Are you sure you're not Slovakian?" She teases, "Cause you drink like one!"
She orders our shots and I'm touched by the realization that I've never had a woman offer to buy my drink simply because she admired my dancing.
Because she was my friend, yes.
Because she was NOT my friend, definitely.
Because she viewed me as competition, and wanted to keep her enemies closer, unfortunately.
Because she was hitting on me, sure.
But never simply because she liked my dancing.
After we cheers I thank them and tell them it's my birthday, so I really appreciate it.
The woman immediately grabs me in a big hug, wishing me happy birthday. We talk for a while longer (and take another shot), before she turns to face me square on, and says, "I have an 11 year old daughter, and seeing you here tonight...it gives me hope for the type of woman she will become. So thank you."
I'm frozen in my shock at such a compliment, from someone who barely knows me at all.
"My friend here, she thought you were paid by the boss to come here tonight and make people dance. But I know you're not, because I know the boss, and he's too stupid to recognize real talent."
She gives me another great big hug (which feels very motherly and comforting), and nudges me back onto the dance floor, saving me from needing to give her an appropriately genuine response as the deafening bass thumps around us.
I wander back to my hotel around 3:30 and collapse, sweaty and content, onto my bed.
I switch my wifi on.
Get on facebook.
And that's when a little piece of my heart breaks off and crumbles into the abyss of my being.
Because that's when I find out that my community, and the world, has lost an amazing member of our ranks, to that bitch called Cancer.
Ron Lewis.
A man who's been in my life for as long as I can remember, he and my mom becoming friends when I was around 5 years old. I used to sit in the little cart he built, his outdoor workshop, and watch him jewelry smithing for hours. It fascinated me how he bent those precious metals to his will to create such beauty.
And he never told me to go away. To stop bothering him. To let him work.
A patient, kind, and loving soul, he encouraged curiosity and a desire to learn.
The ren community truly lost something precious this week.
And I know they all feel it.
And I feel their pain, along with mine.
And I lay in that hotel room, and cry until I'm too tired to cry anymore.
Rest in Peace, Ron.
The next morning, I wake up feeling pretty sad.
I start looking at the birthday wishes left by people on my wall, or sent to me in messages, and as I do this I begin to list off where I met each person, and where they are from. Cities, states, countries...
You guys...it's such an amazing feeling to realize that I really do have people all over the world. Thank you so much for being a part of my life and adding your own personal flavoring to the mix. I feel blessed to have such a diverse and widespread group of friends.
Yes, it means I'm always missing someone, as you can't be everywhere at once, but it also warms my heart to know that wherever I am in the world, I'm probably only a few hours from someone I love. That's pretty dope.
I'm sitting in a park in Slovakia, peeling a hard boiled egg, when I have one of those moments where it suddenly hits me...
I'm sitting in a park in Slovakia.
In an hour I'll be in Austria.
In two days I'll be in London.
A few days ago I was laughing with my mom, telling her, "I just met a guy who's managing a bank at 27. I think I'll still be homeless by 27." She laughed. "Yeah," she said, "but don't worry about that, because not a lot of people can say they did what you're doing and that's more important than your position in life."
Every day of this trip I'm incredibly grateful to be able to be doing what I am, and I'm incredibly grateful for the moral support I've received on this adventure.
This year has shown me that it is possible to go from rock bottom, to the top of the world, in a matter of months, but it's not easy. You have to be willing to really put the work in. And there is still so much work to do! But I'm 100 times better than I was before leaving the States, and that is everything I could hope for from this experience.
Thank you for experiencing with me.
Do I feel that I properly experienced Berlin? Despite having spent nearly a week here, the answer to that, unfortunately, is no. The recovery time for my tooth (still not complete, to be honest, there is quite a bit of pain remaining) significantly slowed me down in my exploration of the city, not to mention the immense size of Berlin. Though the things I did manage to get out and do are certainly classified as time well spent, in my opinion, even if the sadness is still lingering on my mind.
Do I feel I've experienced Germany, at this point? Not even close.
Berlin is a wonderful city, and like many metropolitan areas, it attracts hordes of people from all over the world, to work, visit, study, and live. I heard English spoken in the streets more often than any other language, and while this is convenient as a traveler, it certainly doesn't give one the feeling of having explored another country.
I'll be back. Undoubtedly.
There is still much to see and learn and do.
The day before my birthday, I take two subways and an hour long bus to get from Vienna to Bratislava, Slovakia. My spirits aren't the highest as I stare out the bus window into the dusk like smog of the day. My friend planned this weekend for us, and is meant to be with me, but life happens, and he's become ill over the last few days. However, everything is already paid for, so we agree it makes more sense for me to go, rather than waste the opportunity. So off I head.
I walk even paced through a dark, dirt parking lot, seemingly towards nothing. I check my phone a few times, but according to the map I'm still heading in the right direction. Something in the back of my mind wishes I hadn't lost my knife.
Eventually I see a small concrete hut protruding from the side of the wall. It's covered in graffiti, tiny, and certainly doesn't look like the place I'm meant to be. There is a bright light in the tiny room, and two big dudes standing inside. I can't see anything else. The word "Subclub" is stamped across the top, which is technically what I'm looking for.
Still, I hesitate a moment.
Ah, screw it.
The bouncers stop talking as I enter the light.
"5 euros," one demands.
"Sure...what kind of music is it tonight?" I ask, unable to hear anything, though this is meant to be a club.
"Funky music!" The other one exclaims, slapping a wrist band on me.
I laugh, "Good answer."
Once he's banded me, I see the small opening behind him, which leads me down a long, dark, round tunnel.
Cool, cool.
There is a doorway and another tunnel. But not a single soul in sight.
I walk slowly. What a strange place.
Eventually I pop out into a bar, and boom, there they all are. Shoved into this round room with graffiti on every surface.
You see, this club is actually built underneath the walls of the castle, inside an old air raid bunker. Hence the weird entrance.
Wandering down the long tunnels gives it an Alice in Wonderland feel... Falling down the rabbit hole. I wonder what I'll find on the other side.
I start to dance, and my body warms up quickly. This trip has been amazing, but one of the main things I miss is knowing where to go on pretty much any night to find the funky tunes. I haven't had a proper night of dancing in a while, and my body knows it.
After about 30 minutes I look up to find two women staring at me, intently. They smile when I meet their eyes and one of them waves at me to come over.
I'm pretty out of breath anyway, so sure, why not?
I wander to them.
The woman who waved at me grabs my shoulder and compliments my dancing, the other nodding in agreement.
"So, what're you drinking?" She waves the bartender over.
I get the feeling there is no point in trying to tell her I'm not really drinking, besides...it's my birthday, may as well.
"Tequila!"
She grins and they exchange an approving glance. "Are you sure you're not Slovakian?" She teases, "Cause you drink like one!"
She orders our shots and I'm touched by the realization that I've never had a woman offer to buy my drink simply because she admired my dancing.
Because she was my friend, yes.
Because she was NOT my friend, definitely.
Because she viewed me as competition, and wanted to keep her enemies closer, unfortunately.
Because she was hitting on me, sure.
But never simply because she liked my dancing.
After we cheers I thank them and tell them it's my birthday, so I really appreciate it.
The woman immediately grabs me in a big hug, wishing me happy birthday. We talk for a while longer (and take another shot), before she turns to face me square on, and says, "I have an 11 year old daughter, and seeing you here tonight...it gives me hope for the type of woman she will become. So thank you."
I'm frozen in my shock at such a compliment, from someone who barely knows me at all.
"My friend here, she thought you were paid by the boss to come here tonight and make people dance. But I know you're not, because I know the boss, and he's too stupid to recognize real talent."
She gives me another great big hug (which feels very motherly and comforting), and nudges me back onto the dance floor, saving me from needing to give her an appropriately genuine response as the deafening bass thumps around us.
 |
| Love that the fence is music! |
I wander back to my hotel around 3:30 and collapse, sweaty and content, onto my bed.
I switch my wifi on.
Get on facebook.
And that's when a little piece of my heart breaks off and crumbles into the abyss of my being.
Because that's when I find out that my community, and the world, has lost an amazing member of our ranks, to that bitch called Cancer.
Ron Lewis.
A man who's been in my life for as long as I can remember, he and my mom becoming friends when I was around 5 years old. I used to sit in the little cart he built, his outdoor workshop, and watch him jewelry smithing for hours. It fascinated me how he bent those precious metals to his will to create such beauty.
And he never told me to go away. To stop bothering him. To let him work.
A patient, kind, and loving soul, he encouraged curiosity and a desire to learn.
The ren community truly lost something precious this week.
And I know they all feel it.
And I feel their pain, along with mine.
And I lay in that hotel room, and cry until I'm too tired to cry anymore.
Rest in Peace, Ron.
 |
| Kids always loved Ron, so I thought this was an appropriate picture. |
The next morning, I wake up feeling pretty sad.
I start looking at the birthday wishes left by people on my wall, or sent to me in messages, and as I do this I begin to list off where I met each person, and where they are from. Cities, states, countries...
You guys...it's such an amazing feeling to realize that I really do have people all over the world. Thank you so much for being a part of my life and adding your own personal flavoring to the mix. I feel blessed to have such a diverse and widespread group of friends.
Yes, it means I'm always missing someone, as you can't be everywhere at once, but it also warms my heart to know that wherever I am in the world, I'm probably only a few hours from someone I love. That's pretty dope.
 |
| Bratislava from the castle wall |
 |
| Royal gardens |
I'm sitting in a park in Slovakia, peeling a hard boiled egg, when I have one of those moments where it suddenly hits me...
I'm sitting in a park in Slovakia.
In an hour I'll be in Austria.
In two days I'll be in London.
A few days ago I was laughing with my mom, telling her, "I just met a guy who's managing a bank at 27. I think I'll still be homeless by 27." She laughed. "Yeah," she said, "but don't worry about that, because not a lot of people can say they did what you're doing and that's more important than your position in life."
Every day of this trip I'm incredibly grateful to be able to be doing what I am, and I'm incredibly grateful for the moral support I've received on this adventure.
This year has shown me that it is possible to go from rock bottom, to the top of the world, in a matter of months, but it's not easy. You have to be willing to really put the work in. And there is still so much work to do! But I'm 100 times better than I was before leaving the States, and that is everything I could hope for from this experience.
Thank you for experiencing with me.
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