Last look

My husband was able to come by Frankfurt just as I finished up my time at the FAZ. He captured this image of me at my desk.

Working at the FAZ

Front page photos

For two months, the front page of the Frankfurter Allgemeine Zeitung was a puzzle to me.

“It’s symbolism,” one reporter explained when I asked why the front page layout 1) is ALWAYS identical, and 2) why the featured front page photograph NEVER depicts war, violence, crime, highway bash-ups, perp  walks or any of the other incidents that papers in the U.S. rely on.

“You really have to read the cutline,” she added.

Symbolism. Must read the cutline. With those two factors, FAZ editors demand that readers not only view the front page, but also interact with it.

My reaction: “Huh?”

But, bolstered by a dedication to cross-cultural (trans-Atlantic, the  Burns fellowship people would say) understanding, and a growing trust in the people who put out this German institution each day, I began to read the cutlines. Every day.

Gemütlichkeit

My kind of city (Stuttgart)

Gratuitous Netherlands photo

Lemonade stands forever! (and in every country)

Another reason to love Europe

Mama in charge

Licia Ronzulli, Italian MEP,  at the European Parliament in Strasbourg with her newborn girl this week. (Reuters / Vincent Kessler)

(via Senses Five)

Treffen für trinken/Frankfurt realität

The half-liter bier: It's standard in Germany

…und salsa tanzen. Die perfect Freitag abend in Deutschland. Plus, any time spent with the fearless FAZ intern crew is time well spent.)

Just as I’m wrapping things up here, I’m discovering that the real Frankfurt averts its eyes from visitors who do nothing more than fly in for a few days for business meetings. To really experience this city, it’s imperative to put in the effort. My initial impression that Frankfurt is little more than bankers and their playthings has been happily proven false. Most of all, I love the idea of a city that hides its true face from passers-by.

Like any good relationship, Frankfurt blooms when pursued.

Here it comes…

It’s like clockwork. I turn in a story that has been particularly interesting/challenging/long (I’ll post it here when I can,) and, not a moment too soon, my mind becomes completely preoccupied with baking/sewing/cooking/just generally creating. I need my home! Or, at least just my kitchen…? Sewing machine? (And thank you, Leipziger Straße, for providing me with a quick wool/bamboo needle fix!)

It's true: Food and shelter mags are my kind of porn

Still learning…and a long way to go

My daily life

The girls in the room where I work each day are so kind to me. They zip in and out for interviews, and when they’re back, they type furiously, hardly taking time to engage in frivolity.

But when they do, they do their best to include me.

It usually goes something like this:

“Krista, what do you think about our editors?”

“Bitte, wir mussen Deutsch sprechen,” I say, still hopeful that every little bit of German conversation will result in some new vocabulary gem.

They smile kindly, willing to indulge my fanciful belief that a normal conversation is possible on so little language skill.

“Was denkst du über unsere Redakteure?”

“Oh, ummmm…”

At this point, the whole thing begins to break down.

Good coffee – finally

Bonanza

“Bonanza Coffee Heroes: A five-minute walk, but the best coffee in Berlin.”

That’s what the flask-toting Canadian journalist wrote in an email welcoming my friend and I to her gloriously sunlit apartment in Berlin’s Prenzlauer Berg neighbourhood.

Breathe in, Berlin

Things I missed in Berlin: Brandenbug Tor. Reichstag. Pergamon. Potsdam Platz. Jewish Museum.

Basically, all the things people usually go to Berlin to see.

Instead, two days in a row, I bought a day pass for the U-bahn, headed in the vague direction of a neighborhood that sounded interesting, and wandered.

Wander in Deutsch = Hiking in English

I like to think about all the people who stood where I stood, and what they might have seen 30, 60, 80 or 100 years ago.

A tale of two curtains

“And behold, the curtain of the temple was torn in two, from top to bottom…” (Matt. 27:51, ESV)

Checkpoint Charlie