Berlin, tschüss!

This is my last week in Berlin. 

This week, we went on a bunker and tunnel tour about the escape tunnels that were dug during the Berlin Wall period and the stories behind them. What made the experience especially memorable was that the tour actually took place inside one of the tunnels, which had been dug by Hasso Herschel and his team. Unfortunately, we were not allowed to take pictures during the tour, so I do not have any photos from inside. But here is a picture of the coffee shop across the street, which is named after one of the people involved in digging the tunnel.

I am not going to tell you the stories we heard during the tour, because I think that would spoil the experience for anyone who might visit it someday. But I will say this: during a two-hour tour deep inside a cold, dark tunnel, nobody fell asleep, nobody looked bored, and I raised my hand to answer questions at least twice. When we finally came back outside, almost everyone seemed deeply moved. A lot of us said the same thing: "This was the best excursion I've ever had."

On the last day, Friday, we had our farewell dinner at a German restaurant. I ordered schnitzel again, just like I did at our welcome dinner, because it has become my favorite German food and honestly one of my favorite foods in general.

How do I even describe schnitzel? I keep wondering how Germans are able to put so much contrast into one dish. The pork is breaded and deep-fried, so you expect it to feel heavy, but somehow the lemon, the herbs, and the sides make it taste light and refreshing at the same time. It is crispy but tender, rich but not overwhelming. Ending the program with the same dish I had at the beginning also felt fitting, like closing a circle.

This study abroad experience means a lot to me, and it is life-changing. Before coming to Berlin, I thought traveling abroad would mainly teach me about another country—its history, politics, food, museums, architecture, and culture. And it did. But what surprised me more was how much it taught me about people in general.

Living in another country made me realize how similar we actually are. People grow up speaking different languages and carrying different histories, but they still worry about their families, laugh with their friends, complain about school or work, fall in love, look for good food, and try to build a meaningful life. Even when we visited places connected to some of the darkest moments in German history, what stayed with me most were often the individual people behind those histories—their fears, choices, courage, and hopes.

At the same time, being away from everything familiar also made me notice things about myself that I might not have noticed at home. I became more comfortable wandering around a city alone, entering a museum without knowing exactly what I would find, trying unfamiliar food, speaking to strangers, and letting myself be curious without always needing a clear purpose.

Berlin gave me much more than a collection of places I visited. It gave me new questions, new perspectives, and a slightly different way of looking at the world: that we are human before we are women, men, foreigners, locals, teachers, or students.

Goodbye Berlin, I will miss Käsekuchen(cheesecake), schnitzel, and döner box, and I will come back, I promise.