This week I have had a lot of interesting conversations. Part of this is due to the subpar Wi-Fi available at the hostel, which means that I am forced to interact with the world rather than scroll through Facebook. *Sigh* But I guess talking to people is good—I mean, aren’t we inherently social beings? Our program theme is “identity,” and conversations are prime place where identification occurs. In a conversation, we position ourselves in relationships according to who has knowledge, who has information, who has the more interesting story to tell. Conversations can reveal which kinds of identities we identify with.
I finally managed to visit Ruby on Tuesday, a small boutique two doors down from the hostel. The owner, Martyna, is an artist who makes jewelry using silk screening. It is stunning. Some of her pieces are on acrylic, others are on gold and teal metals. I wandered in and started asking her the usual questions--how much does this cost? What is this made out of?—but I soon found myself engrossed in a conversation about her work. How did she make such amazing designs? What materials did she use? She only hinted at the answers, reluctant to give up her secrets of the trade. We talked about her long commute to Kreuzberg from Wedding. About the Mauerpark flea market. Her voice was very soothing. She had a big dog. I wished I could be as artistic as she was. I wished I had a dog. I left this conversation determined to buy a piece of jewelry from her later on, and with a newfound appreciation for people who have the patience to sit in front of tiny little pieces of metal and turn them into shiny, lustrous objects.
On Wednesday, I interviewed a lecturer at Humboldt. The majority of the conversation was strictly about my research project. Towards the end, however, when the topic of the research project had waned, we began to contrast Americans’ and Germans’ attitudes towards universal healthcare. He told me that most other Germans he had talked to, including himself, cannot fathom the divisive debates raging over ‘Obamacare.’ In his words, even the current conservative government “wouldn’t dare get rid of our healthcare system because it’s fucking great.” There was a similar attitude towards education: the rest of the world apparently finds it fascinating that American students pay so much for a degree. Professor Isensee put it nicely during his lecture: in Germany, “education is a basic human right, and you don’t charge for that. But this is something that our society has decided that others have not yet.” The idea of solidarity and consensus were prevalent in both Professor Isensee’s lecture and in this tangential conversation with the lecturer. In the United States, we are fixated on individualism, which hinders us from empathizing with each other.
The strangest conversation of the week occurred at Good Pie in Kreuzberg. Good Pie is owned by a gang of British dudes. I asked them what was up with the pies, and they told me that their pies were “like the kind in England, but better.” I asked them why they decided to come to Berlin, and they replied: “well, it’s a pretty funky city, so we thought, why not? And besides, this city was crying out for some good pies.”
Disconnected from Netflix, Facebook, and the other wonders of the internet, conversation has become a greater part of my life, and something that I hope to continue more in Seattle. Sitting down, standing up—talking. Speaking with our voices instead of our thumbs. Going back to the good old days.
I finally managed to visit Ruby on Tuesday, a small boutique two doors down from the hostel. The owner, Martyna, is an artist who makes jewelry using silk screening. It is stunning. Some of her pieces are on acrylic, others are on gold and teal metals. I wandered in and started asking her the usual questions--how much does this cost? What is this made out of?—but I soon found myself engrossed in a conversation about her work. How did she make such amazing designs? What materials did she use? She only hinted at the answers, reluctant to give up her secrets of the trade. We talked about her long commute to Kreuzberg from Wedding. About the Mauerpark flea market. Her voice was very soothing. She had a big dog. I wished I could be as artistic as she was. I wished I had a dog. I left this conversation determined to buy a piece of jewelry from her later on, and with a newfound appreciation for people who have the patience to sit in front of tiny little pieces of metal and turn them into shiny, lustrous objects.
On Wednesday, I interviewed a lecturer at Humboldt. The majority of the conversation was strictly about my research project. Towards the end, however, when the topic of the research project had waned, we began to contrast Americans’ and Germans’ attitudes towards universal healthcare. He told me that most other Germans he had talked to, including himself, cannot fathom the divisive debates raging over ‘Obamacare.’ In his words, even the current conservative government “wouldn’t dare get rid of our healthcare system because it’s fucking great.” There was a similar attitude towards education: the rest of the world apparently finds it fascinating that American students pay so much for a degree. Professor Isensee put it nicely during his lecture: in Germany, “education is a basic human right, and you don’t charge for that. But this is something that our society has decided that others have not yet.” The idea of solidarity and consensus were prevalent in both Professor Isensee’s lecture and in this tangential conversation with the lecturer. In the United States, we are fixated on individualism, which hinders us from empathizing with each other.
The strangest conversation of the week occurred at Good Pie in Kreuzberg. Good Pie is owned by a gang of British dudes. I asked them what was up with the pies, and they told me that their pies were “like the kind in England, but better.” I asked them why they decided to come to Berlin, and they replied: “well, it’s a pretty funky city, so we thought, why not? And besides, this city was crying out for some good pies.”
Disconnected from Netflix, Facebook, and the other wonders of the internet, conversation has become a greater part of my life, and something that I hope to continue more in Seattle. Sitting down, standing up—talking. Speaking with our voices instead of our thumbs. Going back to the good old days.