On my first visit to Berlin, a man spat at my feet. His eyes were the eyes of a soldier at war. Precise, alert, and distrusting. And he had just spotted a body he considered the enemy. That body was queer, stout, and black. We were sitting across from each other on a train headed towards the direction of Alexanderplatz. A few moments before, I had just described Berlin to my mother as the embrace of a dearly loved one. Warm, soft, and safe. As I was peeling my phone from my ears, the spitter looked me in the face, coughed out the whiteish foam which he splashed across my feet. The act of spitting at my feet wasn’t a cleansing and or a fortification ritual done to welcome my feet to new and uncharted terrain. That was disgust, anger, and a kind of aggression that sent shivers down my spine. He was sending a clear message. One that was unmistakably meat to say; you are not welcome here. His message had three clear intentions; to warn me, put me in my place, and remind me I did not belong. He needed me to know that. It resonated. I didn’t even say a word. I took the message, got off the train one stop before my intended exit location. There, I waited for the next train in a stooping position. With a sigh and a paper napkin, I wiped my feet clean again.
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by Guest Author | Stories
photos: Beth James.
When I think about Berlin I imagine the U-Bahn rattling on the overhead tracks, pigeons flapping above rooftops and the faint sound of techno in the distance. Berlin is graffiti, sweaty nightclubs, beers on the canal, weird art exhibitions, midnight bike rides, sticky summer days that wrap around you like a blanket and icy, grey winters that make you forget what summer feels like. Berlin is late nights and early mornings, lake swims, laughter on rooftops, marathon dance sessions and afternoons in the park, shoes off, lying on your back under a hazy sun. It‘s a place that tempts you and taunts you, that lifts you up and tears you down. Where freedom reigns and no-one gives a shit. It gets under your skin, and the longer you stay the harder it is to leave.
Berlin is also an identity, and many wear it as a badge of honour. That’s why you see people with Instagram accounts that say their name and “Berlin”. Because it’s a vibe, it stands for something. Being associated with it explains who you are. I’m finding it hard to untangle myself from this identity I have been wrapped in for the better part of a decade. It has taken a lot of soul-searching to make the decision to leave my long-time lover, with its dark heart and endless thrills. Over the years, whenever I felt it could be the right moment to go I would be sucked back in, somehow pulled by an invisible current. I would come up with a million reasons why this was the place for me, and why I could never find anything like what I had here.
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by Guest Author | Stories
photos: Roger Sabaté.
What a fucking rollercoaster ride. I’m sure most of you will agree that the last 3 weeks have been some of the most intense ones we’ve all lived through. It’s hardly an exaggeration that what’s happening right now is the biggest shared global experience since… ever? I don’t even think the world wars actually immediately effected every single country in the world as this pandemic does. And I guess even previous outbreaks didn’t reach as far and as fast because back then the world was just much less connected than it is now.
But while it’s crazy outside in the world, what most people are really experiencing right now is actually happening on a much smaller landscape. For us, everything’s going down now in our own four walls. And unless you are still working and have not been confined to the home office, the longest way you walk from there is probably the small number of blocks you have to pass to reach your nearest supermarket. Our world feels like it shrunk remarkably.
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by Frank | Photos, Stories
photos: Kinga Cichewicz.
Just when I thought that being single in Berlin couldn’t possibly get any harder, the level of difficulty has skyrocketed because of the pandemic. It feels like suddenly, one is basically stripped of all the cool Berlin single life privileges but has to carry all of its burdens. Ironically, in pre-Corona times, singles would sometimes get annoyed by some of the very things that actually can bring us solace in the current circumstances of isolation.
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by Michalina | Stories
Normally, he is the gardener of the house. I watched him year after year, half paying attention. Seeds, coconut-husk soil; add water and in a few months boom… Chilis. Too many to consume. Habaneros, Thai, Jalapenos, Scotch Bonnets. The heat lamp has been set for a few hours in the evenings, on an automatic timer. Every day it clicks on and off. I think maybe I will go mad. I think maybe this is a gift. In our apartment, I set up to work at our dining room table. It’s not the most comfortable set up. The hard chair cuts the blood flow, just above my knees.
One conference call has ended and tasks have been assigned. We have no idea when we will meet in the office again as a team. The dates keep changing. The company provides status updates, the chains of command feign bold ignorance. We’re never quite sure of what is happening at the top, that’s just how it is. They leave that part out of the marketing campaigns and new hire information packets. We are the masses, with seemingly no control. I look over at the seedlings. If I don’t water them, they will surely die, but how much water is too much? I have no direction and no green thumb. Instead, I have an internal lie detector, razor-sharp detachment skills, and Google.
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by Guest Author | Pandemic, Stories
I’m pretty sure that you know Notes of Berlin or that at least you have encountered some really funny and incredibly true quotes or messages written on the walls of Berlin. One of them that I can’t get out of my mind was this one: “Having to leave Berlin feels like leaving the love of my life.”
When I read this I felt like the city was talking to me. Or that at least somebody somewhere just felt what I was feeling. Because back then my relationship with Berlin was about to become, against my will, a long distance relationship. And that was a really scary moment. To feel like your passionate and beautiful love affair is going to end so abruptly leaves you uneasy. And while you get on the plane you find yourself already making up crazy plans to get back to your recently lost lover.
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by Amanda Artiaga | Stories
photos: Ema Discordant & Michal Andrysiak for Buttons
Berlin nightlife draws adventurous minds to our city like moths to the flame, craving to understand the myth of a Berlin night. Week after week, countless Berliners go down, down the rabbit hole to sweat, to move, to dance. Buttons at ://about blank is one of Berlin’s most infamous party nights. They have not only created a place where people of all sexualities and backgrounds can come together on the dance floor but established a diverse community of like-minded people. Their monthly photo reports are a unique visual collection of those who have a strong, personal connection to Berlin nightlife. Every dance floor has a unique story to tell, whether good or bad, a story of liberation, or escapism. We wanted to get to know these stories and asked around. Let’s go on a journey through the mind of a Berlin night.
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by Andy | Party, People
For many, Berlin equals that nice kid on the playground you could always turn to without getting picked on. A big toy box where, magically, all squares, balls and triangles fit into the same hole. A safe space to announce becoming a lawyer on Monday and a modern artist on Thursday – basically a place where individualism bites conformity in the butt.
During my first internship I met heaps of creative people who just moved to Berlin and I couldn’t help but wonder: What is the fascination this place seems to hold? And most of all, can those who joined us here imagine to stay or just call this a phase and leave us behind? We know that Berlin is a stimulating place for people of every industry. Some people come uninspired only to find something they become passionate about, some come with a plan and see where it takes them, some got pulled in by a job offer only to apply for something else a few months later and some moved here for love, only to stay for something completely different.
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by Franziska | People, Stories
photos: Keith Telfeyan
People say Berlin is a city of lost souls. You can feel the drifting energy, black-clad and disembodied, the streets at all hours full of ghosts and zombies… There’s a prevalent zeitgeist of Sisyphean searching. You can drink cheap beer all day, never opening your eyes beyond what is necessary to obey the crosswalk signs. You can cut off all contact, drift away into total obscurity. Berlin: where young people retire, or: How to disappear completely.
Of course you can also get a job, start a family, normalize just like anywhere else. But there is a difference in Berlin… And first, in order to find yourself, you have to lose yourself, or at least recognize that you are lost. It tends to be a theme in this town.
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by Keith | Stories
photo: Alexander Popov
Techno is obviously not a new subject on this blog. After all, whether you like it or not, it’s one of Berlin’s most defining characteristics, the basics of which have already been discussed by Andy, the club culture expert we’re blessed to have on board. But, this time we look at techno from a little different angle.
Like with any social phenomenon that gained cult following, the subject is quite controversial. Although techno in general probably has more advocates in Berlin than it has opponents, there are still people willing (or less willing, but nevertheless reckoning) that they just don’t get it and regard the term ‘’club culture’’ as a modern-day example of an oxymoron at best.
This piece goes out to all of you. As baffling as the notion of gyrating on a crowded sweaty dance floor – only beaten in monotony by the two-hour queue preceding it might be, there are particular things thoroughly positive about it. I really didn’t think so either. But a funny turn of events steered by my own curiosity and the goodwill of some wonderful friends proved me wrong. And here are my takeaways:
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by Michalina | Music, Party, Stories
