Happy

My first week in Hamburg seemed to creep by. Phases of isolation and solitary reflection, broken up intermittently by a group dinner or running into one of the exchange students at the station, made the first week feel like my month in Germany was going to be an epoch of grief. So when Saturday came, filled with a revitalizing challenge to simply enjoy the moment, I embraced it. There is a Hamburger ritual that we had heard about before traveling to the city. Steeped in the rich traditions of its harbor city origins, the water continues to play a central role in the culture of Hamburg. So it is no surprise that visiting the bustling Fisch Markt that emerges every Sunday morning along the banks of the Elbe River is considered an authentic local rite of passage. Of course, traveling to the market in the morning would only be half of the experience. The way the locals do it is to arrive as it is opening, after a long night of enjoying the entertainment in the infamous Red Light District. With the daunting task before us, our group confidently decided, “Challenge accepted.”

 

Some napped, others rested, more stayed busy with nervous anticipation of what the evening would bring. Out of the twelve of us that were going to Reeperbahn, the center of the action, most were still strangers. Cordial hellos and brief exchanges commiserating about our culture shock were the primary interactions we had experienced so far. So going on an all night adventure was going to be interesting in more than one way. After multiple warnings from my host family, several reminders that I could call at 3 am when it got scary and they would come get me, and a reminder of how to ring the police in an emergency, my new pal Amy and I headed off to join the others in the city.

 

What followed was a whirlwind of fun and frivolity. Our first stop was Sternschanze. This area near the university is one we had explored as a group before during our tour, so it was the most familiar space we knew in this foreign land. We walked along until we found outdoor seating to fit the entire dozen of us, which was difficult in the densely packed bars. Unfortunately, the waitress seemed overwhelmed by our number, and shooed us away. So we settled for a corner store where you could get liquor, bier, pop, and snacks for half the price of a restaurant. A consensus was quickly reached that we may as well take advantage of the lack of open container laws, and we settled in on the street, where we spent the first few hours just getting to know each other.

 

After this introductory session, we decided to make our way to the Reeperbahn and see what all the fuss was about. Our first stop was a very familiar feeling sports bar, where they were actually playing American college basketball. The taste of home was too much of a temptation to pass up, so we darted in and enjoyed the game for a bit. After a while, we were ready to abandon familiarity and find something more European. With the help of a new local friend, we made our way to the street with the supposedly “best clubs” and poked our heads in one.What we found was a dark, dirty, rock club with smoke so dense it felt like fog. Once inside, the group was quickly separated by the immense crowd of people. I found a corner with an AC/DC pinball machine and claimed it, and a few others straggled back to my location. Fearing my asthma would not tolerate the cloud of death inside, a few of us managed to make our way back to the glorious fresh air of the street.

 

If there was ever a time that our mission was in jeopardy of failing, this was it. As we stood on the street, surrounded by a throng of drunk foreigners, I expected at any moment for someone to call it a night. Yet somehow, we persevered. I chose to watch the crowd, to lose myself in listening to the drum of their foreign voices. There was something oddly exhilarating about standing on the middle of a bench, in the middle of the night, in the middle of a crowd of strangers, in the middle of an enormous city, in the middle of another continent and feeling so utterly free. In that moment, I felt serene, despite the pumping beat of the city around me. There was no way I was going to give in now.

 

Soon the rest of the gang emerged from the fog of the smoky club, and we pushed on. We followed Gab to a fun spot she knew about. It was an Irish pub that was bright and cheerful and upbeat. We spent the rest of the evening there, drinking, dancing, and enjoying the company. As the night faded into morning and the bar began to empty, we claimed it as our own. We filled it with laughter, dancing, and smiles as our group of strangers became a group of friends. Soon it was nearly time for the moment we were working towards. The grand opening of the Fisch Market was imminent.

 

We trailed out of the club and followed the lingering crowds towards the river. The air was brisk and tinged with the smell of water as we got closer and closer to our destination. What surprised me the most was how beautiful it was. The scene was surreal, with all the streetlights glowing faintly in the fog as shadows of people passed by. In the end we made it just as the street vendors were setting up. They seemed to be emerging from the grey fog, as if they were a magical part of the city that only appeared at this special dawn witching hour and would evaporate with the vapor from whence they came.

 

After the most amazing fish sandwich I have ever eaten, (sorry Coleman’s) we reluctantly bid adieu to the Hamburger portion of our clan and made our way to the train station to our journey home. Even in the stillness of the dawn, the enchantment of the previous night lingered. Somehow the iPhone directions to the station took us instead to an empty school playground, which seemed eerie and haunted with the shadows spilling off the park. As we tried to escape, our route came to a dead end at a tall fence. We were faced with the option of making our way back through the labyrinth of the haunted school or getting around this fence. As Alicia dropped to the ground and rolled under the mere inches of clearance, I was reminded of The Bear Hunt Song. “Gotta go under it.”

 

To say it was a tight squeeze can not possibly convey how tricky it was to get under the fence. At one point, I laid on the ground, half my body freed, the other half trapped in the spooky school land. I just laughed. I giggled and giggled and giggled at the ridiculousness of the predicament, and for the first time in weeks felt really truly blissful. It was an intense and amazing feeling to not just feel a happy serenity, but to experience joy again. That moment was worth the entire trip. I made it out and we made it home. This afternoon we are going to visit a concentration camp. I do not know what emotions or adventures or trials the next couple weeks have in store. Yet I am glad I accepted the challenge. Giving into grief is easy, but going out and living is easy too. In the end it isn’t as scary or difficult as it seems, especially when you have good people to do it with.