To make the post shorter, this is part 1 of a longer story. Read part 2 here. If I really think about it, lobster basically tastes like a fancy shrimp. Back in Riyadh, a piece of lobster the mere size of my thumb was part of a € 70 six course meal I never would have gone for myself, had it not been upon an invitation which would have been rude to…
Life Stories
You’ve Come to the Wrong Neighborhood, Güey
We’ve all heard them: rumours about what countries are like. The ones say Kosovo is a war-torn country, where tanks dominate the streets. Others get goosebumps at the thought of living in Saudi Arabia and Belarus is apparently exotic enough to be a destination serviced by travel companies like Young Pioneer Tours alongside North Korea and Chernobyl. In the case of Mexico, German reporters don’t fail to mention that although they have been living…
A Tribute to the Grasshopper I Had For Lunch
There would come a day in my life where I would find myself on a weekly market in Cholula, thinking about whether dried grasshoppers have bones. If somebody would have told me that way in advance, it probably wouldn’t have been so much of an intense moment. I may be an A-student in university and a curious person with glasses which makes most people think I am some sort of super smart…
Observant Thoughts From Mexico By Someone From Berlin
I have lost count of how many times I have used the sentence other countries, other customs on this blog. I may have done that so many times that it is almost like a cliché by now. On the other hand, at the end of my fourth week in Mexico City I notice that some things are really different from Berlin. In a good way. In a way I find so interesting that…
Where Will You Be When an Earthquake Strikes?
Two days after my security instructions meeting as a novice to Mexico City, I woke up to an earthquake with a magnitude of 8.2. It felt like a dark way of destiny, the universe or whatever it is you want to call it, testing how well I have been listening during the talk. I can luckily say that I am fortunate enough to be well. My thoughts go out to all of…
Tuesday Was Market Day
(originally posted on “Maps and Solitude“) Sometimes there are things you associate specifically with the cities you live in or visit on a regular basis. Mexico City has many such unique characteristics that I may return to in future posts but one of the things that I will always associate with it is the smell of corn. If Mexico City would have to bring out a signature perfume it would…
Airport Stories You Tell Your Grandchildren
Whenever you make a mistake, you intend to do it better next time. So when for example, you find yourself running around Shiphol airport in Amsterdam to catch your flight at the last second, next time, you tell yourself, you’ll do everything differently and everything will go smoothly. When my next time came along, however, I imagine destiny just decided to lean back with a bucket of popcorn (probably salt and lime flavored…
A Berliner in Mexico
Two hours before my high school graduation ceremony on Saudi Arabian soil, I met Catherine. I have never been good at talking to random strangers but when constantly traveling from one place to another you eventually realise that, in the big picture, making a fool of yourself is really no big deal. So during my very last hours in the air-conditioned hallway of the science department, the photographs of the past students…
Dear Coward From Platform 5,
You will probably never read this because you have no idea who I am. You probably don’t even remember what you did but why not just talk about it anyway? I still wonder what you were thinking, sticking your hand up my skirt. You did it in passing. Casually, like it’s something one would just do every now and then. Not brushing slightly against it, not accidentally touching it because you were…
About Poetry
It was a small gathering and to be brutally honest, it was only a matter of coincidence and good luck that I remembered the little note in my calendar. In school they used to tell us that if it didn’t rhyme, it wasn’t poetry so when she told me that in her writing, there was no such thing as a metrical pattern, I was yet again convinced that my whole school life…