16 February 2020

I think it’s spring in Berlin.

I saw green leaf sprouts on a bush today. Also daisies and crocuses. Everywhere, things are turning green. It was extremely warm as I took a Sunday afternoon stroll—along with, seemingly, the rest of the city. People here walk slowly. It’s not like New York or any other big city I’ve ever been to. People walk for the sake of walking, to be outside. They take their time.

I was talking to an immigrant friend who is in a bind in the UK (aren’t they all). And I had the lovely pleasure of meeting one of the main board members at the Hydra Café, one of the most fabulous sex worker organizations I’ve yet found. We discussed the difficulties of registration, and how bad that law is for sex workers. Then I described the worst case scenario here versus in Boston, and she said,

“Thank you for reminding me.”

Spoken like a true activist warrior so deep in the trenches that it’s hard to remember that you’re really helping people.

“How long do you plan to stay in Berlin?”

“Until I’m done.”

This was my standard-issue answer to many of you before I left Boston. I didn’t entirely know what I meant then, but I do now. As I told my friend: You stay in a country until you’ve completely exhausted every possibility of creating a livable life there.

That’s what happened in Boston. It was just--quite simply--impossible. I deeply respect the sisters who chose to stay, but for me—impossible.

I have just arrived here. The possibilities seem vast, even if it’s difficult breaking into the system, and learning that new system from scratch; that’s hard. It’s terrifying, because until you do, you have no safety net. But I feel it might be a very long time until I exhaust the possibilities of Berlin.

And spring has just begun.