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Writer's pictureAdriana Kille

The Blog Post That My Mother Should Avoid

Mom, Grandma, and anyone with motherly instincts: I will let you know when to stop reading. If you continue to read, you’ll probably end up upset and I will feel terrible, so if we could come to the agreement that you’ll stop when I ask, it’ll save us both a lot of headache.

So September 8th, we arrived in Rostock, Germany. It was beautiful and since I had already fallen in love with Munich last month, I was stoked to be back in Germany. While we ran to the bus station (we got completely lost and very turned around), we crossed over a bridge and saw an strangely large amount of jellyfish. YES. ACTUAL JELLYFISH. The little stream was full, edge to edge, with floating, transparent blue jellyfish. I was mesmerized and even though we had negative 2 minutes to find our bus, my soul was just so happy. I hope that everyone understands what I mean when I say that. It’s very similar to how I felt in Paris; In my happy place. Despite being stressed about missing the bus to Berlin, I was just so indescribably happy to be back in a foreign place, with no concrete plan aside from a bus ticket in my hand. I get happy just thinking about it. And that, my friends, is how I know that I need to keep traveling long after I disembark this ship.

We sprinted to the bus and arrived 3 minutes late, just as the doors were closing. I let out a nice deep sigh, took a seat next to a relatively unhappy, very angsty German teenager. Clearly he was looking forward to having two seats to himself and clearly there was a reason that no one else had say down next to him. He actually scared me. I was legitimately happy when he fell asleep. After he fell asleep, I relaxed enough to knock out, too. We arrived in Berlin, paid 0.50 to use the restroom (I am not getting over the whole you-have-to-pay-to-pee concept.) and headed towards the starting point for our free tour.

This is when I really start to love Berlin. I LOVE METRO SYSTEMS. I’m not kidding. On the list of things that Andi loves, it goes 1. Dentist and then 2. Metro systems. I don’t care that they’re sometimes dirty and confusing. I love it. I love figuring it out and deciding where to transfer. I love the colors and the lines and the feeling you get when you really figure it out and get to where you needed to be. Remember when I climbed that mountain in Switzerland? Figuring out metro systems gives me that same “I just conquered the world” feeling and I love love love it.

Not to say I know everything about metro systems, but I was totally getting it. I got us where we needed to be and I was feeling ga-reat. Then another person in my group decided that they would like to take over and I was simply too tired to argue (plus I really hate being told I’m wrong when I’m not…. It’s a character flaw that I accept.) so I let them figure it out and stepped back. Occasionally I’d give my opinion and get shut down. Spoiler alert: my idea was right. Regardless, we went the wrong way and missed our tour. I refrained, amazingly, from saying “told ya so.” High five for me!

It was a free tour, so we just hopped on the 4:00pm one. Lots and lots of walking, but some really amazing history. Berlin was a strong contrast from many of the cities I’ve visited recently. Since basically the whole city was demolished in the last world war, everything was much more modern than I had expected. But I saw the Berlin Wall, which was extremely powerful after hearing some of the stories. I had no idea, but the wall went up basically in the middle of the night (originally just barbed wire, it later went to include the Wall, barbed wire, guard dogs, a bed of nails, spotlights, etc. etc.) and divided the city. Parents who had gone to the East side to visit friends were now forever stuck there, unable to cross back. Even if they were separated from their homes, their friends, or their family-they were stuck. For 28 years that wall stood tall, separating what many would consider freedom from rigid and terrible living conditions. It was incredible to see the East Side Gallery, where artists were free to paint whatever they desired on portions of the wall-a symbol of freedom and creativity. There hasn’t been a time where I’ve wanted to post a picture more than I do now. I was blown away by the beauty of the wall.

I also saw beautiful architecture, stood above the bunker where Hitler killed himself, and stood on the site of one of the largest, infamous, book burnings. Berlin, though much more modern than I had expected, was full of rich and terrifying history. The next day my friends went to the zoo, but since I live a few blocks from thee awesome, and totally free, Lincoln Park Zoo, I chose to people watch and sight see instead. After the events of the night of September 8th, I was more than happy to have some time alone.

Then, we boarded our bus, which was an hour late, and once again, sprinted towards the ship. We barely made it back and all three of us looked like absolute, excuse me, shit. It was rough. I’ve never been so happy to shower and sleep in my life. And now, we leave Germany.

You may have noticed a giant gap in my story. This is where my mother and grandmother should stop reading.

Okay, so everyone has those moments where they’re like “hmmmm. Perhaps that wasn’t my smartest decision.” However, in my defense, this also wasn’t my dumbest. I struggled a lot when deciding whether or not I wanted to post this story to the blog, but I came to the conclusion that since it did happen, it should go up. Also, there wasn’t one defining moment that can be dubbed as the “the moment” that was a large mistake. This is one of those circumstances where it was a series of small red flags that were brushed off because they truly seemed harmless.

6:52pm, September 8th, 2014: We try to check into our hostel, but they screwed up and I reserved a triple room with a bathroom but instead they give us two doubles, no bathrooms and I’m like “uhhhhhh no!”but then he offers us free drink tokens and suddenly- “Oh. Okay I guess.” So we get checked in and the giant hostel is filled to the brim with tons and tons of little Dutch 12 year olds running amuck. Apparently there was a field trip happening, but either way it was super weird…

Okay, 7:00pm: This is where I turn into a terribly stereotypical college student. I haven’t had more than a few drinks since before Sarah left me in London, so I’m really ready to experience Berlin’s famous nightlife. But first let’s get dinner. So we go to a Mexican restaurant and I get a few vodka cranberries and I start feeling happy and I try facetiming Sarah approximately 6 times and she doesn’t answer so I try my mom but the wifi is pretty spotty, so say the least, so we only talk for a little and then I eat some enchiladas and just live a jolly good life for like an hour.

8:30pm: I say, “okay, before we even go upstairs and change, let’s go use these free drink tickets.” and we get there and I, very kindly, ask what I can get with these drink tokens from the room mishap. To which the bartender gives me a sassy look and goes “a small beer or a soft drink.” WHAT. A SOFT DRINK? SOFT. DRINK? OH THANKS FOR THE FREE SPRITE, BUT I HONESTLY JUST WANT VODKA. So I end up with a beer and chug it until I hate myself. I wasn’t even a good beer. Then a nice Englishman sits next to me and strikes up a conversation. His name is Al. (Alistair) and I just want to be very clear when I say this: he is the antithesis of “creepy guy in a bar.” At no point does he make me even slightly uncomfortable.. We continue making friends with the English people-Al and Dave were my favorites, and I literally referred to them as “my two favorites.” Dave was an active member of the Royal Navy, and he was a very stand up guy. Aside from the weird British jokes they made that none of us understood, these guys were a ton of fun. Then there were 5 others. 1 was named Charlie and he looked like he has been in 648387658 bar fights. Scrawny little drunk dude. Then Bassy, who looked like a monkey on steroids and was beyond drunk and abrasive. He was looking for a fight. At one point, Bassy gave me this weird hug and I went “oh…oh we’re hugging.” then he twisted his head and tilted me and went “now we’re kissing.” and I held up my palm and went “yeah, no, we aren’t though.” and left. Don’t worry, he makes another appearance.

10:30pm: Okay guys……………………… let’s go change and get ready and get other semester at Sea kids. Oh wait. TURNS OUT THEY ALREADY LEFT. DAMNIT. Enlighmen are our only option, which is kind of okay because I now love Dave and Al.

11:30pm: WHY IS NO ONE LISTENING TO ME. CAN WE PLEASE GO? I’M DRESSED TO THE NINES AND I’M FEELING PRETTY GOOD.

12:00am: okay………………………………… finally I start screaming that we need to leave and that these guys are taking us to the club. Now.

Here’s where it goes south. Time stamps are disabled for awhile.

On our way to the train, Bassy (kissy guy) puts his arm around me and starts talking about rape(?) and is like “oh it’s not rape if you like it.” and I’m like “ha…haha… but like if I don’t then it’s definitely rape.” and he’s like “don’t worry, you’d like it.” and I’m getting progressively more uncomfortable and he finally goes “you ain’t got to worry though. I only rape fit girls.” Okay, comforting? Pause. “But you’re looking pretty fit…..” Okay now I’m actually not okay with this guy, bye. So I shove him off of me, give him a piece of my mind, and go towards my friends. I chalk that conversation up to his 6 million tequila shots, but still decide that maybe I won’t hang out remotely near him. There are 6 other guys with us and none of them have upset me though, so I ignore the issue.

Disclaimer, I’m barely tipsy at this point. So these events can’t really be chalked up to alcohol.

Somehow frightening kissy guy doesn’t make it to the metro station with us. Fine by me!! (Don’t worry, he shows up later… I have no idea how.) Drunken barfight guy is hanging from the ceiling of the metro and drops himself on his head. They’re all being extraordinarily loud and their favorite phrases are “yo mum’s gut a dick!” and “fuck off!” (Seriously…) so they are making quite the scene on the metro and I’m just not drunk enough for this. When we get to the first station, drunk barfight guy pulls down his pants. and underwear and walks around with his penis hanging out. I kindly ask him to stop. Multiple times.

So by now it’s probably around 1am. Then instead of going back down to get on another train like I thought we were doing, we walk towards an exit…. okay…. We walk outside and up a ramp…. okay……

At the end of the ramp, there are these little street vendors and a few drunks hanging out. They look like they got plucked straight from a Law and Order episode. So I’m starting to get a relatively apprehensive feeling about it all. Then our English friends decide that here is a good time TO STOP FOR A BEER. So as one orders his beer, the scary guy at the beer place grabs his boobs, squeezes, kissy faces, and screams something about free beer if I come in back with him. Everyone laughs, except he’s serious…. Andi is no longer happy at this point. So I pull my cardigan in a little tighter, but I can feel all the other creepy guys staring at us and talking. Then Lexie comes up and informs me that there is shit on my shoulder. Yes. Literal shit. A BIRD SHIT ON MY SHOULDER. Excuse my language, but Andi is very much so not happy. It’s like 1:30am and I’m not drunk or happy or at a fun club, like I wanted to be. Right about now, Mary starts to freak out and cry a little and Al is comforting her. Since she is upset, I’m starting to freak out a little. So some of the guys are hugging me but when they hug me, the bird shit rubs into my shoulder so I’m very conflicted as to how I feel about the hugging. But for the most part, I appreciate the hugs since they also feel a little protective. I keep getting catcalled and I’m feeling worse and worse, so I’m now offering to buy Dave’s shirt off of his back for 2 euros. He won’t let me. HE HAS A SHIRT ON UNDER IT SO LIKE WHY NOT. I literally asked everyone if I could buy their shirts. No one allows it. I want to cry. I’ve sobered up entirely and very quickly.

Okay, finally I convince them to get out of this terrible, strange area and start walking towards the club. But on the way, I see…. wait for it… A PUPPY. A GOLDEN RETRIEVER PUPPY. Andi goes from a -3 to a 10 real quick. So logically, tequila Andi touches it. Goes from a 10 back to a 1 even quicker. Not soft. I repeat: puppy is not soft. Puppy is not soft or fluffy. I’m upset. This dog is not right. So 5 of the guys are getting in a fight with the middle eastern guys and I’m like “actually can we not do this?” And two of the guys are trying to pet the dog. Then one of the scary guys walks over screaming and throwing up his hands yelling at us to leave and stop touching his “fucking dog” because he hates Englishmen and I’m in the corner going “okay, well that’s nice bye!” but the guys are upset by this and want to fight. I’m on team “let’s not get into street fights in the slums of Berlin” but most of the guys are on team “let’s be manly and kill something.” But in the end, I think 5 of the guys left we us and walked down the road…

Towards 10 or so homeless people. Who keep walking up to us (I’m walking with Dave at this point) and offering us drugs. Dave kindly and calmly says no, but I’m like “Hey wait no now I’m really not okay.” One of the guys actually shoves ecstasy into Mary’s hands. Another walks up to Bassy and asks what he wants, Bassy drunkenly says nothing, the dealer shoves him, Bassy wants to fight (Bassy is a giant rugby player, so yeah…) it’s not fun. We keep walking. Then, suddenly, Al takes a sharp right and heads down these extraordinarily sketchy stairs into what I refer to as “the pit.” At this point, I step on glass and my foot starts bleeding. So now I’m really like “okay guys, I’d like to go now.” and they’re question me- “are you sure?” and I waste no time replying, “uhhhhh. YES.” At this point, there is blood pooling in my shoe. I’m actually slipping out of my shoes due to the blood. So finally Mary and I are like “Screw this, there are men peeing everywhere, drug deals happening 6 feet away, and I can hear two men screaming at each other about murder.” So we start walking up the stairs and even though this is a terrible idea, I just start storming down the street towards the metro, walk passed the kabob/beer/middle eastern corner area, get catcalled, and then realize that the metro is closed………………………………………….. okay. So we whip around and I just start storming, by myself, down the street to find a taxi. Finally, I find a taxi, basically start crying, and wait for Mary. Then one of the guys tries to grab me, I slapped his hand away, and got in. But as soon as I got in, I was like “Shit there should definitely be a guy with us because 3 vulnerable girls in a taxi is bad, bad news.” but apparently Lexie told them no, which I wish she hadn’t. Anyway. In the cab, I break down. Mary and I are crying and Lexie is between us, visibly shaking.

We get back to the hostel and I walk away to contain myself, the taxi driver pulls over and asks if I’m okay, which was very nice. Then I storm back in, pass Lexie and Mary and go upstairs to cry in the peace and quiet of my own room. I waste way too much data as I emotionally, repeatedly, try to call Sarah and settle for emotional texts instead.

Apparently 5 of the Englishmen came back a few minutes after us and begged to come up and apologize, but Lexie told them not to. Either way, I was glad the night was over. I cried heavily for a little bit, letting all the emotional tension that had built up throughout the night out. I blew my nose on a towel, which I really am sorry for, but I consider it payback for the crappy “drink tickets.”

Regardless, that’s the story of my night. I learned a lot from it. I learned to find the humor in it, too. But mostly, I learned that sometimes 10 little tiny warning flags are just as good as one giant red flag. Everyone has a learning experience, everyone makes stupid mistakes. At the time, it really didn’t seem like we were heading down a scary path. In hindsight, uhhhhhhhh, definitely red flags.

So, Mom, since I know that you read that, feel free to email me now. I promise to read it in the scariest Mom voice I can imagine.

I love you and I’m just so glad I made it out with my limbs, passport, and dignity! THERE IS A BRIGHT SIDE IN THERE SOMEWHERE.

If anyone else wants to send an angry, motherly email, I’ll accept them. Adriana.kille.fa14

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