Do you wish you could return to a moment in your past?

 If I could return to any moment in my life, I would go back to my half-year sabbatical in Berlin. Though I was born and have spent many summers in the city, the sabbatical was the only time I’ve lived in Berlin for a prolonged period outside of the first four years of my life. During the sabbatical, I was not able to appreciate the brighter side of living in Berlin; I was preoccupied with stress and change. I fell ill almost every other week and lost nights catching up with classes. I joined a bilingual school in the second semester, so I urgently needed to get used to the new environment and routine. Despite this, my day-to-day life had many sweet moments I look back on. A return to the sabbatical would give me a chance to pay more attention to the delightful parts of my time in Berlin because if I think of my sabbatical nowadays, I think of the pleasant memories.

I remember the route from my apartment to school easily, via buses and metro. Every morning my sister and I took a short walk before taking a bus. We stepped off after 2 stops at a terminal to take a U-Bahn for 4 stops. The potential wait time for the next bus was the highest of our interchanges, but when the bus came, we’d take it for another 4 stops, leading us to be across the street from our school. A certain serenity came with public transportation because buses, U-Bahns, S-Bahns, and Strassenbahns, have always been staples in my memory of Berlin. Indeed, Berlin’s mass transit system is incredibly reliable and practical. I’m sure my kind of affinity for public transportation is not common. I can’t quite think of anyone else who would fondly look back on sitting in a bus or metro for at least an hour each day. Yet, Berlin is the type of city where everyone has a different story. There is so much to do and see that nobody has the same experience. Indeed, my supposed return to the sabbatical is banking on having a different experience.

Leaving the last bus, you wouldn’t realize there was a school on Clayallee at all, only a shopping mall was apparent. The school was about 5 stories higher than street level, on the roof of the shopping mall. An outdoor pavilion for recess and soccer gave an impressive view of the surrounding neighborhoods. While school itself was tough for me, being on top of a shopping mall provided useful amenities. By far the most exciting piece was a restaurant next to the street: The Sixties. It was an American-themed diner, plastered with old license plates and movie stars. One wall was reserved for a map of Route 66, which you could look at while sitting in retro red booths. To cap it off, the diner flaunted a vintage jukebox with hits like “Ring of Fire”. Even the meals were a part of the look. Customers could be served enormous plates of burgers and fries not too far from real American cuisine. It gave me a striking and fun taste of home which I enjoyed going to after school. The restaurant was very kitschy, and most people I talked to didn’t find it nearly as interesting as I did. Still, The Sixties stands out in my mind like nothing else.

All these details are clear to me now, but while I lived in Berlin, I couldn’t fully appreciate them. Most of the small moments that bring me joy in contemplation today passed me by. I may have spent every day using public transportation or walking by The Sixties, but I was too focused on what my days less enjoyable. On a second try at my sabbatical, I would make sure to take in as many of these small details as possible, because there is no city quite like Berlin.