Hi Everyone!

While I am always sad when a European vacation ends, I oddly look forward to getting home, immediately passing out, and then waking up at 3 AM the next morning. I enjoy the slower pace of life in Europe, so I appreciate the opportunity to acclimate back to life in the US by enjoying one last stretch of quiet. There is something so peaceful about the hours between the witching hour and sunrise, when everyone else is still asleep. Maybe it’s me trying to romanticize jet lag, but there’s this invigorating quality to the experience.

I’ve gotten ahead of myself here, though, so let’s backtrack a bit and let’s find out What’s Up With Will…

We started our last day in Berlin by heading to the Berlin Wall Memorial, a park commemorating the division of Berlin and all those who were killed or died at the Wall. At the center lies the Windows of Remembrance, and as I approached it, I couldn’t help but shed tears seeing pictures of all the known individuals who lost their lives due to the Berlin Wall. 

As I previously mentioned in last week’s newsletter, the boundaries between East and West Berlin were decided quite haphazardly and were never meant to act as a physical border dividing families, friends, and communities.  As we walked through the memorial, we read signs explaining that this section of the Wall was built over a cemetery, and suddenly, that lack of regard became instantly clear.

We continued to walk towards the center of Berlin, stopping at the TV Tower. 

As you might expect, this tower was originally used to broadcast East Berlin’s German Democratic Republic (GDR) television programs starting in the 1960s, and continues to be used to this very day. However, the tower also served as a symbol of the strength and power of East Germany and its socialist system. As we walked up towards the structure, I noticed how it towered above everything else. At 368 meters tall (1,207 feet for us Americans), it’s the highest structure in Berlin. At this point, we had walked almost the entirety of Berlin and sailed down the Spree river, so it felt wrong not to get a bird’s-eye view as well. 

We rode up the elevator 203 meters (666 feet) to the observation deck located in the sphere, which was meant to be reminiscent of Soviet Sputnik satellites, and as we walked around, it’s safe to say that we were all amazed by the 360° view. I thought it was also really cool to see how spatially familiar I was with Berlin at this point. It felt like every few steps, I noticed something new that we had already been to. After spending days in a city, seeing it all at once makes you realize how much of it has become familiar.

We continued making our way through the city, arriving at the Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe (also known as the Holocaust Memorial), which commemorates the 6 million Jewish victims of the Holocaust. The memorial is a series of 2,710 concrete slabs arranged in a grid pattern on a sloping field. While the memorial’s meaning was intentionally left open to interpretation, I couldn’t help but feel disoriented as I walked deeper and deeper, losing sight of the people around me, the Berlin skyline, and the noises of the city itself. Whether or not that was the intended purpose, I found it to be one of the most emotionally moving memorials in the city.

My dad and I then broke off to walk around Tiergarten, a sprawling public garden/park that was originally a royal hunting ground, quickly walking past several places we hadn’t visited yet: the Reichstag building (Germany’s Legislative building), the Soviet War Memorial, and the Memorial to the Sinti and Roma Victims of National Socialism. At the end of our walk, though, we stumbled into another garden, one with a lot more beer.

At Paulaner Wirtshaus, I got what was definitely the best pretzel of the trip, with a soft, chewy interior with just enough bite in the crust. We also got beer, but with only 15 minutes before our dinner, I decided on a .5L glass. My dad, however, opted for the 1L version, so as the Uber was turning the corner, I was chanting “Chug! Chug! Chug!”

To wrap up the trip, we had to have one more German meal. Schnitzelei specializes in making some killer schnitzels. Actually, that’s the only type of entree on the menu. After browsing through a menu full of jäger, försterin, and even Cordon Bleu, I landed on a Bayerisches Schnitzel, a Munich-style schnitzel slathered in sweet mustard and horseradish before it was breaded and fried, and paired with a bacon potato salad. As we ate our final German meal, we participated in the time-honored tradition of any vacation by sharing our favorite moments, allowing us to relive everything that made this trip so special. 

One last moment: when we arrived, they gave everyone a welcome shot of beer. As you can tell from the photo, Rylee wasn’t too happy about that…

And so the next day, we flew back through 9 time zones to get back to California, and the rest of the week was dedicated to getting back into the groove of Pacific Time from the perpetual 5 o’clock state of a vacation. Jet Lag is brutal…

After almost dozing off midday, I made my way over to the Bedford Gallery for the mental stimulation I needed to stay awake. Currently on exhibit was Aztec Stories in Modern Mexico: An Inocencio Jiménez Chino Retrospective, his first-ever retrospective. I walked vividly colorful paintings and informative video and audio recordings spreading across Jiménez Chino’s 5 decades of work as an artist, focusing on Nahuatl storytelling and cultural preservation, showcasing daily life and community of the region, depicting mermaids and the local folklore Uncle Rabbit and the Wax Doll (a retelling of a story that you may know involving a hare outsmarting a crocodile), and using art as a means of cultural activism such as his works meant to oppose the construction of a dam that would displace residents of his home, the Balsas River Valley. What I found interesting was that his work in cultural activism also extends into the very medium he draws on. Much of his work is done on amate, traditional handmade paper with roots in pre-Columbian Mexico, bringing his art to life while always staying true to tradition.

Later that day, as the World Cup was currently happening, Rylee and I decided to go out to watch the US vs. Türkiye game at Gibson’s Irish Pub. As much as I was excited to cheer on the US in a crowd, I think it was also an excuse to get out and further fight the jet lag. It was a close game throughout, but it was a shame to see Türkiye win in the final minute.

Rylee has been coaching me in soccer spectating over the past week or so while we watched some of the matches, so I am finally starting to get a handle on rules like offside and penalties. About three minutes in, a goal is scored, and everyone starts screaming and hollering. I was a bit confused for a couple of seconds, but then realized that I was actually rooting for Türkiye wearing red and white, and not the US in their blue kits. I am even more ashamed to write that this was not my first time mistaking one team for another, and it probably won’t be my last either.

We have been so busy for the past couple of weeks that we have not been able to go for a date night. Well, we both put our feet down to stop this madness and go out to dinner this week. Our chosen spot this week was Main Street Kitchen and Bar, serving classic American-inspired cuisine. I grabbed myself what the menu labeled as a beer-battered “hot dog,” but it was most definitely a corn dog (this place doesn’t know the difference between the two, bless their hearts). This street fare paired really nicely with the World Cup game on the TV. I also ordered a sangria, which paired even nicer with the game between Spain and Uruguay.

And finally, we went into the city for SF Pride! Starting back in 1970 as a modest “Gay-In” gathering (a form of protest that’s similar to a sit-in) and march following the first anniversary of the Stonewall Uprising, it has grown into the weekend-long celebration it is today. Rylee and I were so busy with moving last year that we were unable to make it, but we were grateful to fit it into our busy schedules this year. 

As we exited the BART station, the streets were bustling and vibrant as the Pride Parade marched down Market Street. We camped out a few minutes before heading into Civic Center, which transformed into the Pride Celebration grounds. We walked around the crowded streets through booths of many talented artists and crafters, stopped (maybe multiple times, shhh don’t tell anyone) for some free samples of New Zealand Sauvignon Blanc and Rosé of Pinot Noir by Squealing Pig Wines, and busted a move to the headliners Aly & AJ, ex-Disney Channel stars who performed several certified classic bops including “Like Whoa” and “Rush”. The whole day was filled with such positive energy, and we were constantly surrounded by people who were so full of joy, love, and pride.

Rylee told me of a quote by author and LGBTQIA+ activist Dan Savage that I think captures the spirit of Pride: “During the darkest days of the AIDS crisis, we buried our friends in the morning, we protested in the afternoon, and we danced all night. The dance kept us in the fight because it was the dance we were fighting for.”

At SF Pride, it’s clear that the dance is alive and well today.

I’ve always been a fan of mini-golf, but I don’t always have the best aim. Well, thanks to math, always getting a hole-in-one could be a reality. This also makes me think I have been aiming all wrong…