sante

et des oeufs dur, de les cousins de belleville

131

Going to visit Mairie Les Lilas, the area where my paternal grandmother (Ama) lived as a little girl, was a process of decoding an overwhelming montage of visual information. 131 rue de Paris, the building where her grandparents and cousin lived, still stands with a very sleek-looking McDonald's on one side, an Asian general store (aka "Mega Affaires") set back from the street where her family's bronze workshop used to be, and "Nicole Lingerie" at the base of the building. A lot has changed and I was lucky to have Francois (my excellent guide, and distant cousin) along to tell me what was old and what was new, and that there used to be a pond with fish where there is now a concrete slab.

The Mairie, with a restored front, still showed the pockmarks of WWII. Saw the church where the family was baptized, married, etc. just before it is scheduled to be demolished (a large "modern" church has been built next to it and the belltower will exist where the old church still stands). Also stopped by the cemetery to see the family tomb.

Ama's school which should look about the same as when she attended (as confirmed by Cousine Denise).

Chez les Mauvoisins, la Garenne-Colombes.

kilometre zero

Look at all the love-locks! Over the Seine, catching wind, small metal prayers that cover an entire bridge. Made me think of the prayer flags in Ladakh.

On my first day in France I made it to the zero-mark of Paris, smack in front of Notre-Dame.

This is all a short swim away from Shakespeare and Company, the bookstore I have been volunteering at.

The Paris I recall as a child was full of narrow corridors, fish under glass floors, chocolat chaud and croissants (also terrible piss smells and impressive beggars). In short, a sort of magic city where I experienced awesome (I mean this in the original sense) sights/smells/events. It still retains some of that aspect now. I saw some incredible street artists--some men roller blading over a jump to scale a pole at ten feet. But it was also incredibly real to me, as most cities are, as a place of unhappy individuals, of people who don't have time to appreciate much more than a few people, a few activities. I have to say that the Paris I had as a child will be forever special and apart for me--a place of extremes but without stress, a place where I truly admired my parents and was happy. Mille fois merci, D&D. Love, T

tschussie OR east side gallery

My time in Berlin has come to an end. I made it through my 18 days without once paying for a subway fare (I've limited financial resources, sorry Deutschland!) A city of nightclubs and TheEuropean (my friend is the editor!) and the wall that still winds its way into many a conversation, many a busy intersection.

A final visit to the East Side Gallery where many forms of love were painted onto the concrete. Maybe a list of my next destinations...Moscow? China? Everywhere?

hummus

something i always thought was much more complicated to make. silly me.

1 can of garbanzos

1 clove of garlic (optional)

juice of 1 lemon

1 t ground cumin

2 T tahini

salt and pepper to taste, hot sauce is also good

4 T of olive oil.

(I also added in radishes, what)

Womp or mash with a fork the first 6 ingredients then add the oil until the right consistency.

sylvan city

DAMN this town has some nice parks.

Now I'll be boring and write about the weather: it has been a cold cold summer here in northern Europe. I feel robbed of my salty wet dog days. Occasionally there is some sun for half an hour and then rainRAINrainRAINrain. Today I was caught by the river Spree in a downpour, so I slinked close to a building and had over an hour to finish (reading) my book.

However, Saturday was a sunny glorious day and it was nice to see Berliners put on some color and let their hair down, so to speak. Tiergarten (above) was full of friends barbecuing, playing music, and playing small soccer games (seriously, the field I saw was really small). In other words, I had a tantalizing glimpse of the season I should be living right now.

Even this, the Holocaust Memorial, was an active playful space--full of children playing tag and couples taking pictures of each other peaking out from behind the stelae.

oh, you know,

just another skype date with my cat,

(thanks for computer placement, dad!)

see the wall

For the first time today, there was a smell on the street that made me miss home...some sort of metallic post-rain scent coming up off the cobblestones. And for the first time, in a long time, I paused in my flight and cared about direction. So the wind blows.

A few days back we visited the heavily touristed Checkpoint Charlie and it was absolutely worth it. It was a very moving experience to connect histories I've learned (am still very much learning) with a specific place. In most neighborhoods, the former wall has left a scar on the city; it is remembered by a line of cobblestone zigzagging through busy intersections, homes, and overgrown lots. This wall, that people died trying to dig under, fly over, sneak through in a cramped car-compartment, is now a monumental cicatrice that traces a big hurt through the city of Berlin. August 13th marks fifty years since it was built.

Imagining so many forbidden spaces, obliterated contact, and the rubble that it has left here, makes this line of Steinbeck's linger longer with me in a new and strange way: "I wonder why progress looks so much like destruction."

On a brighter note...

I miss everyone Stateside. Come join me on our porch for dinner? Love, T

Hitchhiking the Autobahn

We've covered a lot of ground now, simply by making a big sign and sticking out our thumb. From Geneva to Aigle to München to Stuttgart to Braunschweig to Amsterdam to Berlin. Sometimes we get a bit off-course, as in our unplanned arrival in Stuttgart. However, we always manage to meet some incredibly kind and generous people who often have an interesting story to tell. ...a 25-year old single father, a family van with a mother who remembers her tramping days, a French parasailor, and an engineer who develops suspension for luxury racing cars...to name a few. Everyone we meet is eager to go out of their way to try and communicate with us, despite many existing language barriers. Through maps, gestures, and shared miles we develop a unique rhythm that connects us.

Just the other day we were sitting in the cab of a Ukranian truck driver (the slowest we've moved over the Autobahn, at 70km) and there were so many sunshowers. Every few minutes streams of bright rain came pouring down, windshield wipers waving across the glass, and our new friend would utter simple words in English such as "eagle," "tree," and, the startling, "rainbow." In a way, this strange and wonderful weather on our last tired day of tramping to Berlin is a completely apt way to characterize our travels. This is to say that, no matter how weary and sweaty we might be, there is--every day--an element of the fantastic to our wanderings. Always a nice word and a fascinating discovery. As a with the rainbow, unique perspectives are constantly opening up before us.

The fastest we've moved: 255 km/h (that's about 158 mph, for you statesiders) in this fancy car. Cramped in the back seat, it smelled of boys and cigarettes. Also, we're not quite used to having open beers in the car (fear not, it was only the passenger who indulged). Here we are, taking a break and deciding what song to play!

TAHINI

is my new love.

Holls and I have moved into the apartment that we are subletting in Berlin. It oozes hipsterness; I keep finding small sets of antlers everywhere--clearing out the kitchen sink, searching for toilet paper in the bathroom, tucked into a corner next to some old leather packing trunk. Yes, there are the antique cameras, the lacy blouses, and collection of tortoiseshell glasses...

Our apartment is in Neukölln, a part of the city that has a large Muslim population. Hence, the relatively easy access to Tahini... We've been using it in our salad dressings and even trying some other dishes with it. After a month of subsisting almost entirely on cheese and bread and chocolate (<3 u Switzerland and Germany) it's nice to try so to improve our diet with healthy salads and middle-eastern dishes (thanks to H's Lebanese culinary legacy)!

Last night we made a very garlicky (we added more than the recipe recommended) baba ganoush. I'm listing the recipe here, but it's borrowed from David Lebowitz.

Baba Ganoush

3 medium-sized eggplants
1/2 cup (130g) tahini (roasted sesame paste)
1 1/4 teaspoons coarse salt
3 tablespoons freshly-squeezed lemon juice
3 cloves garlic, peeled and smashed
1/8 teaspoon chile powder
1 tablespoon olive oil
pinch of ground cumin
a half bunch picked flat-leaf parsley leaves

Prick aubergines and char directly over the stove flame, turning until they are soft and universally blackened. About 10 minutes. Let cool.

Split the eggplant open, scrape out the pulp. Puree, with other ingredients, in a blender/food processor until smooth.

Chill and serve with toasted pita chips. Prost!

short 'hallo'

I apologize that this blog is far behind my actual wanderings. I am posting some photos from my last countries and, when I'm all caught up, I'll write at greater length about my current happenings.

Hello to new readers, like Uncle M and Ama! Glad you will see what I'm up to.

Today I'm off the Van Gogh museum. Tomorrow, we are hitchhiking to Berlin.