Month: February 2016

I got the sick this week. It rained, hailed, snowed, and I accidentally left one of my windows open overnight because I don’t understand German windows.

Well, now I do.

After some coughing and sneezing, I went home for a long sleep and picked up the next day back on track. In the past I would have completed some tasks from bed extending my cold. There’s something in the air here keeping me from my natural tendency to overwork. It doesn’t make much logical sense because I have more responsibilities and more free time. I’m leading the design practice in Berlin which means:

1. doing design work on a project
2. managing designers who report to me
3. checking in with visiting Pivotal designers
4. checking in with client and contract designers
5. leading or delegating design talks, workshops, and critiques in the office and in the community
6. recruiting designers (getting to know the design scene)
7. hiring designers
8. staying connected with the Europe offices

In San Francisco I was only doing #1 and #2. Before, I really thought doing all of these activities meant giving up some part of my personal life. I’m learning so much becoming the professional I’ve wanted to be for a long time. For that I’m thrilled.

It’s hard though, also learning German, make friends, go on some dates, eating well, sleeping well, and having some time to just laze around on the couch. And there are days when I want to ask to the sky “does this all really fit? this doesn’t all fit! how is this an example of everything fitting?”

A photo posted by Nina Mehta (@ninamehta) on Feb 21, 2016 at 5:35am PST

That’s usually a signal to go enjoy some music or art and let my mind wander. After that I realize I can cancel some meetings, archive some emails, and remind my project team I haven’t deprioritized the design work. I can’t tell is if this shift came from the natural cycle of career growth or something special in European culture. I dunno man. I’m working hard, having fun, and taking naps on the couch. Sounds good to me!

Follow the Berlin tag for similar posts.

I hate talking about money, especially my money. Last night the tech class topic came up and it has a lot this week since I just moved into a nice new flat. My friend thought I should write about it. So, here we go:

I want to share this new apartment with friends but I feel embarrassed by this display of wealth that doesn’t represent me. Or maybe it does and I’m in denial. It seems to disregards the Berlin ethos of taking only what you need and doing more with less. It’s hard to even write about this because it sounds like my problem is having too many nice things: what a horrible thing to complain about. Stay with me and please give me direct feedback if this post comes across sour.

It was so frustrating to be a Silicon Valley person in San Francisco because it seems like having a tech job means you can live comfortably. But even with rent control and mindful budgeting, saving money is hard work. It’s so ridiculous. I can see my tech presence in Berlin creates more jobs which is great. But not more jobs for the artists who built this city into the creative, vibrant, experimental place it is. Maybe it indirectly creates more demand for services and luxury goods but that again is outside of the Berlin ethos as I understand it. In both cases, friends insist gentrification is part of the urban cycle and it’s not my fault or guilt to carry. But Nina in Berlin is a problem if I only take from the city instead of participating in the local and creative economy.

When people see my apartment, I keep wanting to include an asterisk about how hard I’ve been hustling the last fifteen years. I worked at the student newspaper until midnight throughout college and started my passion career in journalism during the recession. After the inevitable layoff (sorry Dad, you were right) I worked three different jobs with a day off once a month to make ends meet. I grudgingly lived in cheap Indiana for nearly a decade and worked intense hours to pay my way graduate school. I did this to create a future where I could continue doing work I love. However, unlike journalism, my new industry came with a good salary and job security.

I want to enjoy my successes, not apologize for them. My company helped with German legal documents, banks, taxes, cultural training, and a nice flat so I can focus my energy on the job that needs done. The German systems can be complex, irrational, and are rarely in English. So, I’m wildly impressed by my artist, freelancer, and food friends who figured this out on their own.  The job to be done is not easy work, either. But who’s job is?

In casual conversations about my move, I want to go on a diatribe about how long and hard I’ve been working to get here. But why bother? Everyone’s hustling for something. So I hold my tongue, say thank you, and acknowledge the privilege I have.

Conversely, I’m finally out of a hotel and have a home. So if you want to come over for a glass of wine and listen to some nice tunes, I’d love to have you.

Follow the Berlin tag for similar posts.

I started meditating again. The weeks are going by so fast and the work is challenging. I’m being pushed to practice balancing priorities, managing expectations, asking for help when I need it, direct communication, and in the end still executing good designs. All things I want and need to practice so for that I’m grateful and hungry for these challenges.

But it’s difficult for me to calm down after the work day.  My mind runs all week until I can shake it out at a club. Usually I would do something comfortable and quiet but I’m sleeping in a hotel for another week and am still living mostly out of one backpack. I miss my art supplies and yoga mat!

So I’m dancing which I find to be one of the best meditations. It’s a fairly sober activity for me and I don’t mind going alone if the goal is to hear music. However, staying up until sunrise is not a sustainable (or reliable!) way to relax. So I started sitting down quietly with my breath. Since then I’ve realized how often I’m setting a wrong expectation about how a place, person, or event will be.

Bunny Lunch

Last week a friend and I sat by the Spree for a lunchtime meditation. Halfway through the meal he told me I was eating noodles and “bunny” meat, which usually would have turned me off. I really don’t think I would order rabbit from a casual lunch menu, no not at all. But in this calm state of acceptance I was able to enjoy it. And for the first time properly realize I how little context I have about my own experience here. How many other times did I have bunny for lunch?!

Kegel not Kegels

The next day a friend invited me to join his friends for drinks after work. I assumed we were going to a bar until I found myself in the basement of an old apothecary bowling (kegel) under neon lights. That’s when I really started to pay attention to how different anything can be compared to what’s in my mind.

A photo posted by Nina Mehta (@ninamehta) on Feb 12, 2016 at 10:17am PST

Kater

So I started saying yes to trusted invitations without questions. Because even when I think I know, I don’t. This has been a good thing because on Saturday I ended up at the Berlinale film festival watching an intense movie about two gay lovers and a dead cat. I’m glad I said yes.

Watergate

And finally, I got to turn the tables. I really wanted to listen to Patrice Bäumel DJ this weekend. Unfortunately he was playing at Watergate which is a beautiful club but is known for a horrible, drunk, rowdy, touristy atmosphere among my friends. I love Patrice’s music, I actually love it, so I decided to go regardless of my friends’ plans. Late into the night some friends who always get into Berghain didn’t get into Berghain and decided to join me. For some unknown reason Watergate wasn’t horrible last night and we had a surprisingly, wonderful, joyful, meditative time.

It was a timely reminder that keeping expectations in check has little to do with being new to a city. We could  be eating bunny at any moment.

Follow the Berlin tag for similar posts.

After the wall came down, Berlin became a place for experiments. New expressions of electronic music emerged. I first visited Berlin in 2007 and was promptly rejected from Berghain. The club was still coming up and I’m impressed we even knew to try going there. I was getting rejected from Berghain before it was cool to get rejected from Berghain. People love to discuss it, defend it, throw shade. Here are my thoughts.

I don’t really mind. We were drunk american kids on study abroad looking for party. And we heard this place was cool. I like to believe the “vampire with a barbwire tat on his face” is my big techno mamma. He was protecting little me from something I was perhaps were not ready for.

Dance music found its first home in Detroit and Chicago in the late eighties. It came up from gay disco. And for most of techno’s life, it lived in the underground where everyone was welcome and the front door was always open. The world was different then for someone gay or black in America. This music, this art, created a home for the people on the cultural outside and for a long time stayed that way.

I grew up outside Chicago in the 90s listening to C&C Music Factory at the roller rink during birthday parties. I think this primed me in some ways. Later I really got into dance music because of Napster.

After graduate school I moved to San Francisco and found the music scene that welcomed anyone, especially those on the outside who wanted to experiment, try something new, and believed everything was possible. The music is so good. It was, it is, really good. Sounds like Berlin. No?

Dance music in North America recently found its place the mainstream. Festivals replaced concerts, and it’s finally ok, nay, even cool, to listen to music made from a computer. So now lots of drunk college kids on study abroad want to go to Berghain because Claire Danes said to.

At some clubs in Berlin, security ask who I’ve come to hear. They’re checking if I’ll be good guest. But then everyone is all of a sudden everyone is not welcome and getting in becomes about knowing something  of having some cool factor.

However once I’m inside, it means I’m dancing with people who also are there to enjoy the music. So the door has filtered out some people drunk, crass people and the club environment is actually enjoyable. Leaving the front door open works until everyone can’t come in.

When it comes to clubs in Berlin (and immigration for that matter) is everyone is equal? Or are some are more equal than others?

That night almost at Berghain in 2007 ended happily with doner kebab in hand and a nice reminder: it’s about who you’re with, not where you are. And it sure does help if the music is good.

Follow the Berlin tag for similar posts.