Meditations on Form
Writing about traveling and working abroad almost always inevitably falls into the category of the travel essay. The form of the travel essay has evolved over the decades, but even new variations of the often personal essay centered abroad have not attracted me when it comes to writing about Berlin. The vast capital of Germany has twelve boroughs with 96 neighborhoods, so the sheer size of the city let alone the international variety becomes immediately enticing. It is the layout of the city itself that seems to not lend to a long-form, linear narrative essay of series of such in blog posts. While Berlin does have a rich and deep narrative history, the spacial narrative thriving in the boroughs supersedes the previous temporal focus.
In Berlin, one can find not only German culture, but Turkish, Syrian, Egyptian, Iranian, Iraqi, Ghanian, Spanish, Italian, Bulgarian, Indian, Yemeni, and the list is endless. This has been the most rewarding and enriching aspect of Berlin for me. As someone from an extremely small, homogenous, rural farming town, I had never experienced anything but a predominantly white culture before I started traveling to New York and New Jersey frequently in college. While I do enjoy New York City, and even though it was the first city to really embody the ‘melting pot’ vision of America, Berlin is truly something else. While Berlin may be a very international and multi-cultural city, I do not feel that I would describe it with the image of a melting pot in the way that America implies. In America, you speak English, you hear English, and in a way, you are American now. In Deutschland (Germany) you may be where you came from; you may be Deutsch; you may be just visiting. On the streets you hear Deutsch, English, Arabic, Farsi, Italian, Spanish, French. Therefore, it only seems fair to try to write about Berlin in ways that it occurs to me: in glimpses, overlapping and fragmented, but still somehow connected, bɛʁˈliːn. The large expanse of Berlin can make you feel like you’re in a whole new land just by traveling East or West. Teaching people from all over the world in an international city and coming together through English and German and many other languages only supports this desire for the micro lyric hybrid.
mein Praktikum (My Internship)
While many students don’t get the chance to study abroad, even fewer have the opportunity to work abroad. I feel extremely grateful to have been involved with an non-governmental organization based in Berlin, The Refugee Academy. A fellow intern from the United States and myself became the project managers and teachers of Babelfish English, a free English course taught in the evenings around Berlin. I knew I wanted to pursue a post-graduate life teaching English abroad before I came to Berlin. However, I did not expect it to be both so rewarding and so challenging. As a lover of language, teaching has kept my interest in linguistics at a peak, while also challenging my adaptability and knowledge. Working within a multi-lingual teaching environment has only inspired me to look deeper into the power and failings of language, whether complete or fragmented. The true joy of teaching comes from the interaction between people all aspiring to enhance their language skills. While speaking and communicating in a new language can be frustrating, trying and making the attempt on both the teaching and receiving end becomes crucial. In this way, one can also ensure the bounty of mutual teaching and increase the longevity of the mindset of a perpetual student.
Being a Poet in Berlin, Language & Non-Fiction
As a poet in an undergraduate writing program, I was initially inclined to do a standard group or small collection to record my time in Berlin. However, working with refugees and migrants has brought me back to the non-fiction essay. Essai- the French verb to try– due to Montaigne lies at the heart of the essay’s foundations. To try- in Deutsch- versuchen– in Arabic- likay yuhawil. Through hearing many immigration stories, and this being my first time in Europe, it seemed fitting that any micro lyric lines of poetry or prose would only be an attempt to catalogue an ever-changing and developing city. However, the pleasure with the essay, and with teaching abroad, lies within the process, rather than the finished product, so thus through writing or speaking, we try. The aspect of non-fiction also correlates with this attempt, as nothing can truly be objective when coming through someone’s perception. We all have learned cultural habits, ideas, and norms that contribute to how we interpret others and the world around us that often come from out environment. This is why the non-fiction micro essay becomes very functional for both the attempt- of one’s perception, interpretation, and use of language. When it comes to writing in something other than one’s native language, a poet I deeply respect, Solmaz Sharif, has said that “if you have not wept in that language, do not write in that language.” While I agree, I do believe that an essay may have dialogue, and that dialogue need not always be translated to English. In Berlin the sounds of languages weave in and out of each other, creating a particular ambiance. This is why often the phonetic spelling of languages is needed and incorporated into the lyric essay, perhaps in italics rather than quotes- to imply truth rather than filtered dialogue. The following snapshots of Berlin through brief moments, overheard conversations, and most importantly sound & image seek to give readers an impression of Berlin with fresh eyes.
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