People Stories

A series of stories that I recall about people I have thus far encountered.

I was pointing down the street at something and looked back to talk to Rashida, when suddenly - slap! - a jolly elderly man gave me a high five. It took me a few seconds to put together the slap on my palm with his broad grin before I burst out laughing.

Do you recall that game, "Who Stole the Cookie From the Cookie Jar?" A giant group of little children stood at the other end of the U-Bahn playing that very game - in German. It was with the same tempo, the same giggles, the happy lilts in their voices to cheerily play such a repetitive game, except that in German, it doesn't rhyme.

The first week I was here, I was waiting quietly on the U-Bahn for my stop to come by. Two young men dressed in suits and ties came on board and sat across from me, and I ignored them as city folk do until one of them leaned forward and began speaking to me in German. It was definitely American German, I thought, but not bad. In fact, I was relieved to hear the accent, and was curious. He was asking me if I knew of this book, something to which I replied no, I didn't, and he continued that it was like the Bible, only a different one. I decided it was time to end with the German and said my German wasn't so good, and immediately they gladly switched to English. They were from Ohio, Mormons on a missionary trip. I love how some of the first people I talk to in Berlin are from America.

Something I don't enjoy as much is the amount of attention I get for being Asian. I think most people find it normal to see Asians walking around Berlin, a fairly international city, but then there are those who seem to make it their duty to assure you that yes - you are Asian. A typical thing I get is something with "Ni hao" or "Chin yong wong," most often some sort of gibberish that isn't even any form of Asian that I know.

The better part of the Asian deal is when people ask me where I am from, and are completely shocked and taken aback when I reply that I am from California. They seem so fascinated by that fact, which is of course to me absurd - there are plenty of Asians where I come from. Still, I suppose most of the Asians here either grew up here or came from Asia, rather than the roundabout trip I made from the US.

The story gets better when you're not in Berlin, and you have to explain that you came from Berlin, but not really, you came from California, but of course my face isn't your typical American face you see in Hollywood, so yes, my parents were from China.

And because this post has gone on for long enough without a photo or two, a few more highlights will have to do.

Ever seen a walking hot dog factory?

Or perhaps kids playing Yugioh on the U-Bahn in Berlin? (This one's for you, Cisco!)

And how about a beautiful series of couches, coffee tables, and even a cafe - all within a bookstore? (Unfortunately I felt awkward taking photos of the cafe area and the more ostentatious couches, but here's a little to get a glimpse:)

Bis bald, my friends.