I spent my late May to early July of this fine summer in Berlin, Deutschland (of course, visiting a few nearby cities as well). I know Europe tends to have “that” effect on people.

“I want to fall in love in Paris.”
“I want to spend my honeymoon at the Aegean Sea.”

Yeah. I never expected to fall in love with Berlin or Germany. It was never known to the world as an romantic city. Its stereotype was more about the role it played in the history of Europe. I had always been skeptical about the kind of adoration that Coops and Jon displayed about Germany. To me, what they felt was all like infatuation with an extremely gorgeous and complex individual. I admit defeat; I myself have fallen to the charms of Germany. This is possibly the first time I felt so strongly about a nation that I had no roots in (China) or lived in (Canada). [Side note: I was into Kpop. Not Korea in general].

I spent 6 weeks with the Duke Summer in Berlin program. What an incredible 7K spent (not so sure my parents’ wallets would agree though). I not only finished off 2 course credits (including a distribution req! Haha, score!), but overwhelmingly experience all the, for lack of better word, conflicting epicness that is Berlin, that is Germany.

I hope to convey some of my favourites during my stay with a series of posts. Please visit Berlin if you get the chance.

Here’s a shot of the Brandenburger Tor (Brandenburg Gate) at night. Two friends and I made a trip down Unter Den Linden around midnight after catching a movie at the Sony Center.

All right. Let’s try again. Wieder versuchen.

I realized I should probably get over myself (and retail therapy. We’ll talk about that later…) and embrace all the goodness that I was given the opportunity to experience this summer.

Berlin for 6 weeks.

Beijing for 3.

Will be flying to Chongqing tonight.

Down with an unfortunate cold (likely from a/c) — hello stuffed and runny nose, sore throat. I really hope I don’t go partially deaf from the flight again.

At the “Bird Egg” National Theater near Tiananmen Square and the Forbidden City.

Many times, I sit downstairs alone in the Severance side of the Tower Court dining hall with nothing much. Maybe a cup of orange juice, hard boiled eggs with a bowl of soy sauce and lots of used napkins. And then I contemplate what the fuck I’m doing here, which, of course, leads to playing nostalgic excerpts of Transition in my head and over the last semester, I’ve come to this epiphany…sort of. I mean, I must have realized it while in Trans…and maybe just wasn’t really ready to think about it, voice it.

Transition is for those who want to accelerate through high school. Not for those who want to skip grades. While you do jump directly into grade 11 courses by October of Year I, you don’t really get to avoid all the shit or miss out on the fun that high school has. Just because you’re going faster, at a more rigorous academic pace, does not mean all the other troubles and joys of life do not join you for those 2 years. Liking people, fighting with parents, struggling with what you want and what you should…things just come at you faster and they hit harder. Thus, the of effect that school has on you and what you do on your school career are just augmented. People do feel, love, hate, laugh, cry. We were with absurd people that we always seem to have something to talk about, rant together about, squeal together about. Others were never in that environment and hence we can never expect them to truly understand what we felt and how we feel now. Not our parents, not our elementary school friends, not our university friends. Personally, as hard as I try to explain to my friends here how much Transition has shaped who I am today (gosh that sounds so cheesy, yet true), they would still only nod at me while giving me a skeptical stare.

One friend I have has gone through a similar high school setting, as similar as things can get to Trans. United World College. She is a Chinese-Singaporean who studied in Italy for 2 years at UWC. When I told her my stories, I felt like she kind of understood, kind of went through something so very like it yet so very different (hello? mob of Asians from Trans versus “United World” College?). She said to me “beautiful” and indeed it was.

That cardboard box of 2 years of my life, our life.

You never really know how much something means to you until you lose it. Although I’ll never be able to wash away the Transie within me, I do really miss it now.

My life has always been pathetic like that. Regrets, contradictions, hypocriticism. However, all the regrets that adorn my life have become one of my greatest motivators (among flying first class and breathtaking mansions). I’ve always agreed with the saying that “experience” was simply another word for our past failures and mistakes. By writing my stories down, I hope they will one day remind me of my foolishness, naivety so I can move on.

Of course, writing also has that therapeutic effect on me. It’s about time I stop slowly imploding.

I part with a song: sie liebt dich