We arrived in Berlin exactly a month ago. Our landlord’s agent, the “punk with a pillow,” was gracious enough to pick us up at the airport, and drive us to our temporary studio on Maybachufer, along the Landewehrkanal. The next morning we met Paul at the Brandenburg gate, and spent the next few days in adjustment eased by his familiar face, going to concerts and a dance performance by one of his exes, drinking wine and getting collectively charged 60 euros by the U-Bahn ticket police.

We have our own apartment now. We know much of the city, having biked and wandered through diverse and remote neighborhoods. We are working consistently, with a stable (or mostly stable) Internet connection. We’ve registered with the police twice, and the second time they barely blinked an eye. The bakery nearby still grimaces whenever we come in, but our language will improve as soon as we take classes.

I think this might work out.