Today, I am happily settling into the a lovely feminine sanctuary of an AirBnB that I rented in Amsterdam West, away from the crowds in a modest residential area with a wonderfully multi-cultural local population– which is all the more noticeable having been living in über white Kleinmachnow! I popped around the corner this morning to a fabulous bakery for their famed almond croissants and a round loaf of sourdough bread, and then onto a larger street to a neighborhood Turkish market for fresh early season apricots (my favorite!), pink muscat grapes which I haven’t seen since last summer in California, Persian cucumbers, cute little heads of romaine lettuce from Spain, slices of Dutch goat cheese with peppers, and a packet of Halal beef peppered salami from Istanbul. I popped everything into the fridge and set out to write at the lovely dining room table surrounded by well-cared for plants- 14 of them, to be exact. Each of them is beautifully arranged on delicate little wooden stools in groupings of two or three.

I really need to up my houseplant game.

Why am I here? Well, I booked plane tickets to come here back in October, knowing we would be away for Spring Break, and hoping to catch the last weekend of the famed Dutch tulip festival. However, due to unseasonably warm temperatures, the tulips have already bit the dust. So I’m still here, sans agenda, and since I was just here two years ago and saw all the museums and sights then, I am happily staying put in this cheerful, colorful and lively apartment. Here I can bounce between the cozy yellow sitting chair with a matching ottoman by the window, and the spacious dining room table with a lovely dried floral arrangement as a centerpiece. I love everything about this place except for the fact that the toilet and shower/sink are behind separate doors across the hall from each other. I imagine this must be an old plumbing issue?

I am struck by the greater familiarity (even if not quite affinity) I feel being further west on the European continent. There are little insignificant things I’ve noticed in the grocery store here, like the rows of junky snack food, a wide range of white bread products and aisles of refrigerated pre-prepared meals in the grocery stores that are just not a part of the German way of life. But there are also a much wider range of fruits and vegetables, perhaps due to their trading company past. I then realize that within the past month, I have been at the furthest SW corner of Europe in Sagres, Portugal, and now am near the NW corner of Europe in Amsterdam. Both locales have ample sunshine and bountiful fresh food, and people in both places smile about 500% more often than Germans in Berlin.

For the past month, we have barely been in Berlin. We had fun-filled visits from dear friends in California and loved showing them around our favorite local spots here. My dear friend Kate and I had the best time exploring Berlin day and night in early April, including our first experience in the Berlin club scene (albeit a tame version) with my Berlin friend Anna K. It was just the start of the wild adventures and memories made during Kate’s epic visit. I loved it all!

This was followed by a visit from Julian’s friend Erik and his dad, who joined us first in Berlin for a few days, followed by a week in Portugal. Our spring break escapade began in Porto and Lisbon, and then continued with a road trip to the Algarve region of Portugal, followed by Sevilla and Granada in southern Spain. In the Algarve, we even found an F1 course to visit on Easter Sunday, which had 30-minute go-kart rentals to race around the track. Julian was in heaven! We also spent two nights at a spectacular Mediterranean resort where I took a fabulous tile painting class, all the more enjoyable after visiting the National Tile Museum in Lisbon a few days prior.

Julian and Jonathan were mesmerized by the magic of Andalusia as well. It’s hard not to be captivated by the warmth, beauty, incredible history of coexistence and delicious tapas, sangria and paella. What a delight to be back there! It was magnificent, and I loved seeing places new to me, in addition to introducing Jonathan and Julian to some of my absolute favorite places from years past.

And while we were traveling, spring has brought the landscape in Berlin bursting back to life.

Last week, Berlin marked a state holiday for the “80th Anniversary of the Liberation from National Socialism.” That’s kind of a mouthful, and yet it is also the actual reason why I’m able to be in Berlin today, so it struck me as particularly poignant. Why the grocery stores need to be closed for this day is still altogether unclear, nor is it clear what people actually do on this holiday to commemorate the occasion. Apparently this year’s state observance of said occasion is a one-time public holiday to celebrate the 80th anniversary of the day. And the Berlin.de explanation of the holiday offered quite a satisfying explanation: “While Berlin, as the capital of the German Reich, had already surrendered completely on 2 May, Nazi Germany did not lay down its weapons until six days later. The final military victory and the occupation of Germany created the basis for peace.”

Germany also had it’s Labor Day on May 1st, which totally caught us by surprise given that ours is in September. There are so many German national holidays and Berlin state holidays here, I can hardly keep track. Many of them are Christian holidays that I had never heard of like Ascension Day or Whit Monday, or multi-day extensions of Easter that I didn’t know were holidays outside of say, Vatican City. Also strange but cool was the national German holiday for International Women’s Day back on March 8th. All the grocery stores closed for that one too. But at least the farmer’s markets were open! A ruddy-faced youngish woman at a fruit stall gave me a complimentary giant apple with my purchase, saying in perfect English, “Happy International Women’s Day!” How quaint.

The “surprise– Labor Day is actually in May!” reality hit us while we were in the Algarve region of southern Portugal on Spring Break. Julian would have ANOTHER long weekend as soon as we got back. Shouldn’t we go somewhere? Our time here was winding down, and everything in Berlin would be closed anyway. Who wants to be in Berlin when the grocery stores are closed for days on end?

We started looking at flights to Poland, which had been on our list, but there weren’t any direct flights from Berlin to Krakow, and the train ride seemed just long enough to be tiresome. Then we started looking at other direct flights from Berlin. There were really cheap flights to Tel Aviv. Should we take Julian to Israel? We thought about it very briefly, and then made a snap decision to go for it. We would stay near the Old City in Jerusalem where no one would be so stupid as to bomb holy sites for Christians, Muslims and Jews. We could hop over to a Dead Sea beach for a day. We had two friends to visit. No matter that the war with Hamas was still ongoing, as we wouldn’t be anywhere near Gaza. It would be an easy breezy trip, we thought.

The trip was mostly a disaster. But we made it back to Berlin. I am now writing a book with the working title, “Exile and Return: Homelands and Nationality.” So I’ll save the majority of my thoughts about our time in Israel for that manuscript, but the cliff notes version goes like this: We landed into an apocalyptic hell scape of dust, wind & smoke that was straight out of a Hollywood scene from Operation Desert Storm. Both the air and ground were a mess of brown blustery chaos as we landed into the largest wildfires in Israeli history. Everything we saw as we left the airport was caked in splattered chestnut brown sludge. We couldn’t get to Jerusalem as the roads were closed, so we booked a room in downtown Tel Aviv for our first night. Little did we know that most of the city would be closed for the holiday, and we would end up in a sleep deficit due to the all-night techno dance party for Israel’s Independence Day in the hotel room adjacent to ours.

The next day, we tried to take a bus but couldn’t figure out how to buy tickets, and ended up taking a cab down to Jerusalem. We checked into the artsy apartment we had rented and walked down to the Mamilla Mall for our first meal of legit hummus, falafel and Israel salads, which hit the spot. Touring the Old City of Jerusalem with our bubbly tour guide, Nicole, was such a breath of fresh air as we began to unwind from our nightmarish arrival. She had generously agreed to reschedule our morning tour to the afternoon to account for the fires/road closures/holiday.

By the time we left Israel a few days later, we had heard multiple air raid sirens from daily Houthi missile strikes, each of which completely freaked me out. One of the missiles evaded the Iron Dome system and landed adjacent to Ben Gurion Airport. This was mere hours before our flight back to Berlin. To say that the trip was terrifying is a gross understatement. I am well aware that people living in war zones deal with this type of anxiety on a daily basis and have tactics for managing it in order to survive the constant chaos, but I can’t even handle gunshots or suspenseful scenes in movies. I was a total mess. We only made it out of Tel Aviv due to our foresight in booking flights with El Al, the Israeli national airline, which is always the last to cancel their flights in times of distress. All of the European airlines cancelled their flights… for over a week! Relief is an insufficient word to describe our profound sense of gratitude that we were able to get back to Europe. I do have a lot more to say about this experience, but it’s still too raw.

Meanwhile, back in the garage of our cute little yellow house in Kleinmachnow, Jonathan pumped up Forest’s tires and oiled her chains. I pedaled from our two blocks of paved road into the cobblestone section before the dirt path into the woods. My whole body quivered and bumped up and down as Forest’s tires bumbled over the rough cobblestone streets, shaking off some of the residual angst from our eventful trip. Forest’s bell rang constantly and involuntarily, as if to say, “Wake up! Look around you at this fresh, bountiful greenery! Spring is finally HERE!” This playful and involuntary dinging sound made me smile wide and then burst out laughing. As I entered the path into the woods, the scenery was so soothingly familiar. It then occurred to me that the bursting greenery and lush forested landscape looked exactly like it did when we first arrived last August. The realization made my eyes pop out of my head and shake my head in disbelief. Our year in Berlin is almost over.

What a crazy, incredible and transformative year this has been. I had no idea what to expect from our time here. I didn’t have a project to work on, or any sense of how I would spend my time for a full school year in this foreign place where I don’t speak the language. Contrary to my constant frenzy of teaching energy at school, the only rushing I have here is catching buses or trains to attend events I have purposefully chosen, or meeting friends for plans I have deliberately arranged for leisure. But most of my hours have been slow-paced and decidedly mellow. I have ample time to write, read, do yoga, bike, rest, keep up with the laundry, cook and connect with family. 

I feel happy, refreshed, energized and clear in purpose. What a gift.

We have just two months left. It hasn’t exactly flown by, but it hasn’t dragged on either.

It’s been just right.