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The last hours of our flight were spent in a tired hysteria—we were eager to land and anxious to exit the stifling cabin. The dense air that sat heavily and thickly in the confined space we all occupied could be captured by imagining an elderly individual, rotting in appearance and having just consumed crap, literally, then falling asleep on ones shoulder and breathing with wet, humid gasps all over ones cheek. Of course, the described situation did not occur; rather, this is how we chose to describe the repugnant odor suffocating us. However, though the atmosphere seemed to be curdling, everything and anything was funny, though we were successful in keeping our obnoxious laughter to a low minimum. And then finally land could be seen, bright green land.
Once having landed safely the reality hit us that we were really in Germany—excitement flooded us and we bubbled with restless energy. Outside the rain was soft and the air was not terribly cold, but refreshing. Greg Morain was there to meet us. He walked rapidly though the bustling airport and we made our way to the buses. From the bus, we continued on train and then another train until we reached the gentle and quiet outskirts of Berlin. Greg proved to be a most informative, personal tour guide, offering information left and right about sights and culture. I felt bewildered at the transition and while I had realized it would be contrasts, experiencing it was something all together different. Graffiti seems to light up the overcast inner-city and there is quickness in the air. Where we are staying, however, is quaint and pleasant. The houses are tall and traditional, built in a Victorian style with a German twist. Rose bushes burn brightly with warmth and it appears the damp cobble stone streets are lined with vivid green velvet. Mothers with pierced noses and long, flowing skirts are walking beside teeming young ones, as miniscule cars race though the streets which lack, I have noticed, stop signs.
Tomorrow, we explore the heart of Berlin. The city is not affluent in comparison to other German cities and its history is not to be seen. After World War II there was not much left to the city. It has seen its fair share of turmoil in war and politics and is viewed internationally with a dark past. However, I find it to be a beautiful place with diversity and a vivid excerpt of ingenuity and strength; I am compelled to learn more.
Well to those this is written for, it is 6:36 in the morning. And for myself it is 3:36 in the afternoon. I have surpassed the twenty-four hour mark and I feel over-exhausted; I am finding it hard to focus on the computer screen. Though, I am trying to stay awake so that I may sleep all night and wake up on their schedule. I was just informed that Cole fell asleep in the living room and I must go wake her.