paris/berlin. i find myself looking back often. it’s as if i have the chance to do it twice. hopefully better. the culture shock, the language learning, the everythingisbrightandshinyandnew phase. things here are obviously different but in some ways so similar. events are mirrored, arriving at a faster pace.
i used to walk past the fernsehturm on my way to work. i can never go by without looking straight up into the sky. night or day. in paris, taking the 6 metro above ground or the 88 bus, i would always press to the window to see the Eiffel tower in the distance from montparnasse or towering above the seine.
heading up the stairs to the U1 at Kotti: a voice behind me says rasta, everything irie? i turn to see a wide smile. i smile back yet say nothing. his smile reminds me of my uncle’s.
back in paris, the man selling roasted chickens on the corner took to the habit of yelling rastawoman! each time i passed by. i said nothing and starting taking a different route.
on the last day of the 3rd month in berlin, i encountered blackface. back in paris, the 3rd year came around before i realized that some people i knew found painting themselves brown an amusing pastime. here, it was a church group, painted and dressed up in afro wigs, while performing a “gospel” number. again, i failed to see the humor. with all of the million and one gospel shows in berlin, who would have thought that people were just getting tips to put on their own minstrel shows in private?
at the zap mama show, marie daulne shared her experience of living in the states for the past 4 years. her original thoughts of greener grass. her conclusion of enjoying the green where you find it. for real because the grass is sure the same ole bs everywhere. i’m just trying not to step in it.