Berlinfusion

Pass the Parcel

Hah! You had two blog posts yesterday due to me accidentally not scheduling the Broken Cat post correctly.

Anyway, this one continues from my rambles about unpacking our "everything".

I believe house adornment should evolve, not be forced. Tim believes otherwise. Mind you, he's probably right because if I had my way, we would still have unpacked boxes in four years time when we move again. (That's actually not a bad idea. It would save a lot of time and effort...)

Therefore, I spent about 16 hours yesterday (Friday) unpacking all but about ten boxes. I shall finish those off today - they're clothes, handbags and whatever random articles are also included in the upstairs boxes. Oh, I've forgotten about the exceedingly heavy garden ornaments. Goodness knows how we'll do that. I'll have to research how they made Stonehenge and devise something similar on a smaller scale.

In between watching the Royal Wedding online - with no commentary, which made it fun trying to work out who everyone was - I hit the box fort with a vengeance. Tim wanted all the packaging out the way as soon as possible. Besides, we can't move freely around our house at the moment.

Unwrapping everything today reminded me of an endless game of 'Pass the Parcel'. Countless layers of paper protected everything with the china and glass wrapped in layers of tissue, several layers of thick white paper and either bubble-wrap or thick brown paper. There was a lovely prize in each parcel.

Some of my things have made incredible journeys and I got quite emotional at one point. Opening a mysterious parcel to find a large, fragile stone cat my brother brought back for me from Egypt many moons ago. It's been from London to Northampton to Tokyo and has now reached Berlin still intact. Items inherited from my Nana - not particularly old, but sentimental nonetheless. Particularly poignant were some little gifts I'd bought for my Dad in the past and received back after his death.

Other items have travelled extremely far; I backpacked throughout South America in the mid-nineties and my souvenirs not only survived being stuffed in an overfull rucksack for months, they've all made the same relocations as me. Pots and figurines from Bolivia, a blowpipe from Venezuela and spindly wooden birds from the Galapagos are all now piled in a cupboard awaiting their latest resting place.

Even more incredible was unpacking my Japanese porcelain. Some of these items are well over 200 years old and must have been through countless earthquakes (although not the Tohoku earthquake of 11th March as everything was packed safely in a container by then). All unscathed. They are so well made and so beautiful. But as yet I don't have the space to display them properly.

The other things we haven't got around to yet are working out where to put our pictures and other wall hangings. That will have to wait until Tim has a drill. Unlike the cardboard walls we had in Tokyo, which just needed a pin to hang small pictures and special hanging chains for larger art, the walls here are solid concrete. Once they are up, this house will begin to feel like home.

So how did I do on my predictions from the other post?

• There will not be anywhere near enough 'display' space for my many ornaments: CORRECT, woefully correct. Not only do I not have enough space for my ornaments, there are numerous pieces of kitchenware for entertaining that I cannot find room for. Yet.
• I will need to utilise another room's wardrobe space: PROBABLY: I haven't unpacked the clothes yet. And let's not mention my handbags...
• I will end up rearranging the kitchen yet again: YES. But not just yet as there's too much else to do at the moment. I will wait until we can all find stuff then confuse the hell out of everyone by moving it all around again.
• Some items may have to disappear for our stay here due to lack of display space. That's OK, it's good to have a change of view. DEFINITELY. For example, I'm now bored with looking at my paperweights I started collecting when I was about 14. And  some pictures need to retire for a while.
  

What have I learned today?

• That I have too many collections. 
• Japanese packers are the only ones to correctly mark boxes with Ikebana and Obi on them.
• They also wrap stones as carefully as they wrap glass (yes, I collect stones too...!)
• I'm an unexpected control freak when it comes to unpacking. Tim is banned from unpacking anything of mine which, of course, makes even more work for me.
• My desk will evolve, I need some sanctuary away from the rest of the mayhem. It's just a shame the place is open plan. I can't hide properly and my mess will be on show. Ah well.
• I miss Japan very much at the moment.

 

My Cat is Broken

Raymi seems to have developed agoraphobia! He absolutely will not go outside and if put out, shoots back in at lightning speed.

I'm a little cruel and sometimes shut the door on him, until his pitiful miaows break me - it doesn't take long before I let him back in.

We kept him in after we first arrived here but now he absolutely refuses to venture out at all. He was always an enthusiastically outdoor cat, only coming in at dusk for food and staying in overnight.

In Tokyo we had a lot of strays living in our area and he regularly got into nasty fights. Due to his size he usually won and remained unscathed medically - by that I mean he hasn't caught anything from the other cats. But there were some revolting abscess incidents over the years and a broken fang.

He has made no effort to adjust to the new timezone and get over the jetlag. He sleeps upstairs under a stool all day. Then in the evening he begs to go out, but once out then spends all his time trying to get back in again.

I have no idea what's up with him. There are no other cats in the area. All I can think of is it's the sheer size of his new outside that's bothering him.

Trouble is it bothers me too, because during the evenings when he's decided to wake up he's very vocal whereas before he barely raised a squeak. He's obviously "asking" for something but I've no idea what.

Tim is not a fan of Raymi-cat, so the constant miaowing in the evening is annoying him. And I have to admit, it's annoying me a little too now.

Another thing we've discovered is that there are ticks here. Eew!

We've caught a few on Kita, but they don't seem to be able to reach her skin through her thick double coat. There are huge red ones and smaller black ones.

While I was stroking Raymi last night, I found an engorged beastie on his ear. I had to pass that job onto Tim to deal with.

Looks like I need to take a trip to a vet soon in order to get some new medication. I need to find out what is required in Germany. Quickly. We currently use 'Revolution', which was prescribed in Japan as a multi-use medication for fleas and heartworm.

If there are any vets reading - any idea what's possibly going on with Raymi's agoraphobia? And what is a good preventative for ticks?

Boxes and More Boxes

Yesterday we received our "everything" - all our possessions that were so efficiently packed and sent from Tokyo to Germany by boat.

At 8am on the dot, a large lorry with two shipping containers arrived. Surely we didn't have that much stuff? No, only one container was ours. Tim went out to greet them, but "them" was only the driver.

"Who's going to unpack?" he asked.

"You and me!" joked the driver... 

Thankfully he was joking. About 20 minutes later two men turned up to unload our 107 boxes. Only two! It took an army of about eight to pack it all in Tokyo.

I made myself scarce by taking the dog out for a very long walk. It wasn't long enough though and they were still unloading the lorry when I returned. In all, it took about 3 hours to fill our house up with boxes. It was done with a great deal of huffing and puffing and thumping down of boxes marked 'Fragile'.

Boxes were placed in their relevant rooms, including putting my Japanese stoneware into the garden. That won't be easy to unpack, they weigh an absolute ton.

While they were unloading, I tucked myself into my corner with the PC and before long I was one box away from being trapped in my own heavy box-fort!

The view from my desk.

And from the other side

Tempting as it was to stay there, Tim took it upon himself to start unpacking the kitchen stuff and putting it randomly into cupboards. I had no choice but to assist. He left me to it and went to set up the TV and build some cabinets. Rhiannon enjoyed rediscovering all her toys and other forgotten items.

Remember, we haven't seen this stuff since before the earthquake as it was all packed on 1st March. So much has happened since then.

My predictions for where all our stuff would go proved pitifully inaccurate.

I thought there would be heaps of spare space in the kitchen and nowhere near enough bookshelving. Thankfully, the books all fit with room to spare (for new books!) - we'd found some more bookcases in the basment and they are widers than our ones in Tokyo.

But the kitchen is a nightmare. We have far too many drawers in all rooms and not enough cupboards or surfaces.

At the time of writing (well past midnight on Thursday) we've only managed to unpack about a quarter of it all. The kitchen took me the best part of the day with lots of rearranging of everything. It's still not right - at the moment there's no cupboard space for food. A rather important ingredient in a kitchen, don't you think? And I still haven't discovered all my "for best" crockery and serving dishes. Goodness knows where they will go. In the hallway cupboard perhaps?

As for the books.... well, I'm a bit anal about my books. Tim asked if he should unpack them. I tried not to screech "Noooo!", but failed. He should have learned this from last time. I'd rather he unpacked my clothes than my books. Why? Well, in my mind, they all have to be put into categories; travel, history, anthropology, specific favourite authors, classics, antique classics, gardening, hobbies etc. Once I've done that, I can place my hand on a specifically required book in a matter of seconds. A friend asked if I filed them alphabetically or by ISBN number. Well that's just silly... isn't it? Hmm... maybe another day.

I have to say that the Japanese packers were absolutely incredible. We've spent the day buried under mountains of wrapping paper discovering items packed neatly within other items, like Russian dolls. So far (and I hope I haven't jinked myself here) absolutely nothing has been broken.

There have been some funny moments. Like unwrapping a mysterious object to find it was a lonely and lowly coat hanger! And unfolding wraps of paper to find a handful of very miscellaneous items from our kitchen drawers which I forgot to go through before they got packed - clips, a bottle opener, a spoon, and a single plastic toothpick.

Today will be spent doing much the same.

This time my predictions are:

• There will not be anywhere near enough 'display' space for my many ornaments,
• I will need to utilise another room's wardrobe space,
• I will end up rearranging the kitchen yet again,
• Some items may have to disappear for our stay here due to lack of display space. That's OK, it's good to have a change of view.

And I hope all my surprises are good ones. I packed a few little presents for myself somewhere in the midst of it all so I'm looking forward to finding those again.

Bringing You Up-To-Date

I'm now going to round up the past couple of weeks now so I can start blogging in real time. It's confusing my readers to have all this retrospective stuff going on and it's frustrating to me too.

My Japanory blog is still missing two years worth of memories, but it feels very wrong for me to write trivial stuff on there now with all the devastation of the earthquake still horribly fresh in everyone's minds. I will update it when the time feels right.

So here are some of the events and thoughts and randomness over the past couple of weeks to date:

The school holidays have started and I'm counting the days until she returns. Rhiannon hasn't really been to school since 9th March. She was off sick when the earthquake hit in Japan and her school was closed down, opening for a few days just before we moved here.

Trying to keep her entertained with none of our "stuff" is nigh on impossible. We can't cook - no scales, ingredients, cookware; we can't paint, draw or make things; we don't have any TV apart from German terrestrial and a few over-watched DVDs. The garden does keep her occupied for a while. We've tried exploring the streets, but this soon wanes for her as she doesn't share my interest in the beautiful architecture and well-tended gardens. We've tried a bit of gardening but the soil is so uncultivated I can barely dig an inch. I need to pull up about a thousand oak and beech seedlings very soon.

We now have a trampoline in the garden which gives Rhiannon another reason to play outside. She still wants company sometimes; the only drawback of being an only child, in my opinion. If she had a sibling they'd be forever falling out over nothing anyway. Besides, I find it fun to bounce too - yes the trampoline is strong enough to take my weight! So does the swing, but the seat is a little small for me...

And, of course, there is the still unsuccessful search for a post office.

We've also had to wait in for various people. A group of three visited to assess the possibility of putting up a dog-proof fence. One of them used to work in Tokyo and I was under "orders" to give him a hug from an old friend. He was happy to take it.

There was much excitement one day with the planned delivery of one set of our baggage - the items we sent by plane. Unfortunately, after waiting in, I was called to say they'd cancelled and would deliver the next day instead. Disappointing. But it arrived in good time the next day and occupied me and Rhiannon for the day. Most of it was Rhiannon's stuff anyway, with my main joy being reserved for the arrival of my computer. No longer did I have to write on my minuscule laptop with the Korean keyboard.

Another day, while we were walking Kita, someone left a note in the letterbox. I fed the many-lettered word into Babelfish - Schornsteinreinigung... it was a chimney sweep! I wasn't even aware we had a chimney. She came back today. I had to help her open the loft hatch as she was a little too short and I can't find a pole. Rhiannon had an image of a chimney sweep from "Horrible Histories" and "Mary Poppins"... so this girl blew that image out the window. She was gorgeous and I could see the cogs in Rhiannon's brain finally realigning from her polarised view of female / male jobs.

We're transforming one of the basement rooms into a den for Rhiannon in the hope that we can keep all her crap belongings away from our living area. It would be so nice to live in a clutter-free home (although I have more "clutter" to come, it is tasteful clutter. Honestly!) She chose vibrant orange and turquoise paint for a couple of walls and painted a huge sun on the turquoise one. We still need to get a carpet though as the room is still not cosy enough to tempt her to stay down there yet. The plans look fabulous though. I hope they come to fruition soon.

Yet more shopping to do. Which is a pain in the butt, because we only have Saturdays in which to do anything like this what with shops closing on Sundays and all over Easter.

Another waiting-in time was for Rhiannon's new school uniform to be delivered. Thankfully that arrived in good time and it all fits. All I need to find now is a jumper and some shoes.

So, this coming Saturday will be spent shopping.

Before that though, a major event is happening today. Our heavy baggage is due to arrive!

Finally, we will see all our possessions again, albeit in 107 boxes to start with. We haven't seen it since the efficient packers scooped it all up on 1st March.

I do hope my precious Imari porcelain has survived its long sea voyage. The thought of having all my own cooking utensils back fills me with rather worrying pleasure. It will be nice to have more than two changes of clothing too. And my books. Oh how I have missed my books! Goodness knows where they are all going to go though. I had a painful cull before we moved but there was still 4 large, full bookcases to send. I only have three smaller bookcases here. Hmmm.

Today will be exciting, yet stressful as we desperately try to find space for everything. And a bit like Christmas in many ways. Especially as I packed a few little unopened presents for myself in there.

Kaffee und Kuchen

Saturday 16th April was when the sun finally came out and boy, did it make a difference.

I took my camera with me on my morning dog walk. This is a statue we pass on the way to the lake - Hubertussee.

There are some great bird-watching opportunities around the lake but I don't have my binoculars yet. I have recognised Black Redstarts, Wrens, Blackcaps, Greater Spotted Woodpeckers, all the tits, sparrows and general garden birds. But there are many others I can't quite identify.

Rhiannon phoned her new best friend while I was out and on my return I was informed she had been invited for a sleepover. We've only been here less than a week and already the hand of friendship is reaching out.

Thankfully, our new car has a rather excellent Sat Nav system so we were able to find her friend's house in Potsdam.

On the way there, we drove through some gorgeous forests and marvelled at the lake views. One of the bridges we crossed made Tim hoot with excitement. It was the "Bridge of Spies" - Glienicke Bridge.

From Wikipedia: During the Cold War, Glienicke Bridge was one of the few places in the world where the Soviet Union and the United States stood directly opposite each other. Thus, “deals” could be made here without any of their allies having any say in the matter. The bridge lies at an isolated joint where US-occupied West Berlin met Soviet-occupied Potsdam, which was in East Germany.

We arrived at our destination where we met a lovely couple and were introduced to a German custom I could certainly get used to, kaffee und kuchen - coffee and cake. Similar to afternoon tea (or elevenses), everyone stops at 3pm or 4pm for kaffee und kuchen. Yum!

After a lovely and informative chat, we left Rhiannon happily playing in the garden with her friend and headed off to do some shopping without a demanding child in tow. We'd had it confirmed that yes, ALL shops close on Sundays and public holidays, without exception. Some shopping malls may open on a few Sundays in the year, but in general, that's it. So I'm now quite worried about just how much planning needs to be done on the shopping front, groceries especially.

We found a duvet and cover, a microwave and a toaster. For some reason the toaster has blue LED lights around the base that flash when it's toasting. It looks like a space-toaster. Unfortunately, that's where our shopping had to stop as none of the stores took credit cards - EC debit cards or cash only. Oh dear.

A huge DIY store was tempting, but we only had enough cash left for a long length of rope so we can tether Kita in the garden so she can enjoy the outside while being safe from escape.

In the evening I insisted on us taking the opportunity to go out to dinner as it was our 5th wedding anniversary on 15th April and, as usual, nothing was done to celebrate it.

We collected Rhiannon the following afternoon and agreed to bring her friend back for a reciprocal playdate / sleepover - to be collected at about 4pm on the Monday.

Before collecting them, we discovered that a mall near Potsdam was open on that Sunday. Thank goodness, because I'd run out of  cat food.

It was OK. There was an amazing amount of Easter stuff on display. I've never seen anything like it! I'd noticed garden trees decorated with coloured eggs around here, but Easter isn't something I've ever celebrated. And of course Japan doesn't "do" Easter at all, being a non-Christian country. I was taken aback at the sheer amount of bunnies, chicks, eggs and all manner of flower arrangements incorporating these items.

We found a large supermarket, a bit like a cross between Tesco and Wal-mart, and got a few items there.

The cat can eat tonight.

 

 

German Lessons

Not the language kind of lessons, they will have to come later. I failed my German O level with an ungraded mark. Not something I would normally admit to if it wasn't for the fact that I believe my entire class got ungraded marks too (obviously our teacher was not good!). I can do numbers and recognise a few words, but as for speaking it... not a hope yet. Besides, my mouth comes out with Japanese and, for some peculiar reason, some Spanish. I also still bow in Japanese style to everyone. They must think I'm bonkers here!

I digress.

No, the lessons I'm referring to are my talks to Rhiannon's new school about how the earthquake felt in Tokyo.

And a lesson on how to order a taxi...

Friday 15th April. I am due to do my first talk at 10am to the littlies - Key Stage 1 (for those without kids, that's 5 to 7-ish year olds). Then I'm booked to do another presentation for the Key Stage 2s (8-11 year olds) at 11am. Rhiannon wants to help me present the talks.

That's OK. Rhiannon's used to public speaking too. And I'm well used to talking to children about stuff and with the Japan earthquake still very fresh in my mind I have no worries about any of this.

What I am worried about is getting to the school. I will have to take a taxi at 9.15am to ensure I arrive in time. After seeing Rhiannon off on the magical school bus I then have to get the dog walked, me changed and off to school. It's the end of term and school finishes at noon so I will go back on the bus with Rhiannon. It's too expensive for two taxi journeys.

So I phone to order a cab for 9.15am. But it only took me to a recorded message. I recognised some numbers "Press 1 for something and press 9 for something else".

I pressed 1. As you do. Or as I really shouldn't have done as the next message made me swear.

"Your taxi number 88734 will be with you in 4 minutes".

Oops, how embarrassing. (Incidentally, they automatically know your address from your phone number).

What could I do? Well, all I could do really. Get the dog ready for her walk and stride out of the house... where the taxi was waiting for me. I just had to play the dumb foreign woman that I am and apologise. The driver was unimpressed to say the least.

Anyway, I know what to do now. I'll phone again when I am ready to leave and hope I haven't been blacklisted.

The dog gets her walk. Thankfully it's no longer raining. I changed quickly and phone the taxi number again. I pressed 1, hung up and walked out the door to see three cabs pulling up! Fervently hoping it wasn't the same driver I got into the first car and showed him the map.

He sighed, "that's a long way". Yeah, but isn't that what you do? It wasn't the same driver but they don't seem to be happy people. However, he cheered up immensely when I tipped him at my destination.

So, deep breath and into the school. People were milling around everywhere and it was obviously a mufti day. The fashions were very "German" if that makes sense? Very cool, slightly punky for most ages. And very different from Japanese fashion. It turned out that the mufti day was part of their ongoing fund raising campaign for Japan. To date they had raised an impressive 4,500 euros.

Rhiannon found me as soon as I got into the building. She was running errands for her teacher. I briefed her quickly on what sort of things I was going to say and how she could help.

Then it was time for the first talk. I hovered on the edge of the assembly while the head gave a talk about Easter bunnies and spring, reminded the kids why they were having a non-uniform day and then introduced me and Rhiannon. At the same time, she pressed a button on the screen show and up popped a photo of a Japanese temple surrounded by cherry trees in bloom.

A lump appeared in my throat and to my surprise my eyes started leaking a little. Not a great start, but I was so moved by the beauty of the familiar photo I couldn't help it.

Anyway, the show must go on and all that. In a slightly quavery voice, I talked about what happened to us that day (pretty much what I wrote here). I added actions, included Rhiannon with "what happened next" questions and even got a big laugh out of explaining that it was like trying to walk on jelly.

The children were mesmerised. It was quite daunting actually as they'd been fidgeting and whispering until we spoke. I thanked them for their fund raising work and finished to a loud round of applause.

Phew!

The headmistress was impressed and amazed by Rhiannon's confidence and public speaking too. Then it was time for an awards ceremony. I was very pleased to see the children being rewarded for their efforts in such a way. I think it's vital for confidence and gives the children something to aim for. Rhiannon's already planning which certificate to aim for first.

A quick half cup of coffee then it was in to talk to the older children. This included Rhiannon's year group and we did a slightly different talk. Basically I was just winging it - I hadn't made prompts, I just talked. The reaction was exactly the same. I was rather pleased with it all.

During this awards ceremony Rhiannon received a certificate for Student of the Week; for being there only two days and settling in quickly and "making cool new friends" as well as presenting these assemblies. Proud Mum and proud child.

As Rhiannon went back to her class with strict instructions to find me so I wouldn't miss the bus with her, the head of school said to me, "So, are you ready to talk to the seniors now?".

"Yes, of course"... I was still very jetlagged.

Seniors? Oh my god. That means teenagers. They are a complete unknown to me and a notoriously unreceptive group. Now I was nervous as hell.

I had no idea what I said to them, to be honest. Wittering on about walking on jelly wasn't going to work, that's for sure. I may have got a little ranty about how many people had died and were displaced yet were now forgotten in favour of media reporting on the Fukushima nuclear crisis.

But I truly can't remember. To their credit they remained quiet during my ramble and applauded at the end.

I was very pleased it was over. The two head teacher's hugged me and suggested I should give talks on a regular basis, perhaps come into school and teach as a volunteer. No, but thank you for your kind offer...

Rhiannon was waiting for me at the gate, the bus was already there. It was a long drive back but enabled me to see where some of the other children lived.

We had a quiet afternoon, with occasional shudders from me as I relived the terrors of talking to about 80 teenagers.

Lessons learned.

Same as Yesterday

Thursday 14th April

I'm aware that I write too much. A big thank you if you manage to plough through it all, but I'll attempt to keep my word count down a little. At the moment I'm just trying to cram in as much as possible so I can get up to date and blog in real time. This is a short post, but be warned - tomorrow's is long!

Today was mostly the same as yesterday; without the mastiff-meeting, car-collection and the jolly janitor but still with the jetlag symptoms, rain and depression.

Tim went into work for the first time. This is always the worst time for a "trailing spouse". While I embrace solitude, it does hit me when, for the first time in weeks, I'm alone and in a foreign country. He's collected by a neighbouring colleague who will show him how the bus and metro system work. He left before 8am and didn't return until well past 6pm. A long day.

I try to catch up with my social networking. It's weird having a different timeline of people and I feel very far away from the usual information streams. Especially those about how Japan is faring. I finish unpacking and storing stuff away.

Then I go out in a vain search of a post office. There may be something called a Postfiliale, but it's not open, shows no opening times and appears to be someone's house. I'll have to look another day and time. I don't want to close my business but with no postal service I cannot do it. Fingers crossed I find one soon.

In the evening Tim drives us to Ikea. We have to get a double duvet as we've only been lent two old, single, feather-filled ones for our bed. I'm allergic to the feathers. But Tim forgot to get the measurements, so we just got one for Rhiannon and will head back another day. We get a few other things and head home.

Just before bedtime, I remembered that I'm due in school tomorrow to give my two talks to the kids! I read a few blogs and articles for up-to-date information, make a few notes and go to bed.

I had a bizarre dream about earthquakes. I never remember my dreams, but this one was an epic. Not a nightmare, although the subject matter was. It was more like watching a movie. Quite disturbing but it means I awake in a "talk about earthquakes" state of mind.

Although a bit nervous about getting a cab, I'm looking forward to talking to people. And I love public speaking.

Jet Lag, Giant Dogs and a Janitor

Wednesday 13th April

I awoke at 5am again after spending most of the night in the bathroom.

No, I wasn't ill, I have a peculiar jet lag symptom - needing to pee every hour or so. Actually, my jet lag is very similar to being pregnant... headache, tiredness, insomnia (yes, they do go together), fuzzy headedness, irritability and nausea. And needing to pee all the time. And eat a lot.

I think the nausea part is still my jishin yoi - earthquake sickness - making its presence felt.

While waiting for everyone else to wake up I was treated to almost two full hours of cuddles from a scarily affectionate Raymi-cat. Most unusual.

I have a pleasant day ahead as Rhiannon is going to be at school all day. She hasn't been to school properly since the Tohoku earthquake on 11th March.

Her instructions are to be standing outside the house a 8.05am to be collected by the minibus. However, it's pouring with rain so we hover in the porch looking out for it before fumbling with the damn keys to let her out of the gate when it arrives. I'm so proud of her confidence. I couldn't have done that at her age. She will be delivered back to the gate at around 4.30pm. Bliss!

Tim goes off car-hunting and I'm all alone at long last. I like solitude. Very much indeed.

I don my coat and wish I hadn't sent my wellies off on the boat and head off for my first dog walk in Germany. I'm a little nervous as I've already seen numerous dogs walking along the pavement off-leash. In Japan, dogs are never off-leash unless they are in a dog run.

Besides, the dogs in Japan wear dresses and are generally the size of guinea pigs. The dogs here are not. They are huge.

Kita and I set off. No idea where we are going but I've seen a lake on the map so I head for that. Kita is understandably skittish after her ordeal and I hope a nice long walk, albeit in the pouring rain, will help. We found our way down to the lake and the first thing we saw as we turned a muddy corner was the biggest mastiff type dog I've ever seen. And it was not on a lead. And I couldn't see the owner. Oh. My. God! Kita obviously thought the same too and didn't know what to make of it. Luckily there was a gate in the way of their meeting. I waited for the owner to show.

Shiba Inus are unusual dogs - very primitive and more like cats in many respects. For example, Kita doesn't go in for butt-sniffing but prefers to sniff the other dog's nose. Our vet in Japan told us that Shibas quite often do not like squashed-nose dogs and I wonder if this is the reason. If a dog tries to sniff Kita's butt she tends to sit down. And if that means sitting on the other dog's head, so be it. Embarrassingly she once peed on a dog who had the temerity to stick its head where she didn't want it. I prayed she wouldn't do this again...

She didn't. It was worse and she showed an aggression I've never seen in her before. No attack, but a full on Shiba scream and bared teeth showed her antipathy. Mercifully the mastiff was very well trained and friendly and just trotted off. I am quite pleased I didn't understand what its owner said to me.

Our walk continued with no further incident apart from a brief, non-contact meeting with an enormous German Shepherd and we returned home absolutely sodden.

Just as I was changing out my wet clothes, Tim phoned. The car was much further away than he expected so he'd be away for some time. Meanwhile, someone was coming to fix a leak in the bathroom, a faulty radiator thermostat. At 10am. It was 10am now so I hurried to get dressed.

The janitor arrived. A charming Polish gentleman who will be a wonderful person to get to know properly. He did his work, told me his life story and, as he was leaving asked, "where is your television? You cannot have no television if you have a child".  Hah! Ours is on the boat. Bless him, he promised to find one for us and deliver it as soon as he could. He came back with one a couple of days later.

Tim eventually and triumphantly returned with our new car and our liaison chappie.

We'd better get some food in, so, following our guide, Tim drove us to our nearest store. 'Kaisers' is the name of a chain of shops that apparently are of good quality.

But it's not within walking distance of our home.

And this is when a slight depression hit me. Nothing is nearby. We're living in a beautiful leafy suburb of Berlin, but there is nothing here, no shops, not even a train station. All shops close on Sundays, many close on Saturday afternoons too. I can no longer pop across the road for milk or food.

And where is everything else? I need a nearby post office if I'm to keep running my business. A vet, dentist, doctor... where are they?

The thought of driving here terrifies me. It's all on the wrong side of the road and I've never driven that way before. Besides, I'm not yet allowed to drive here for insurance reasons so will have to rely on Tim for that. And he will be at work.

I start comparing Berlin to Tokyo and this is not a good thing. I have moments of "I don't want to be here". I must snap out of that but am finding it hard.

Our Pets Arrive!

(Yes, this is still continuing from the previous post for 12th April 2011)

Once we returned from visiting the school, my mind reeling at what I'd promised for Friday, I collapsed on the sofa. Desperate for sleep but knew I mustn't succumb as the only way to deal with jetlag in my experience is to try your best to work to the new country's times. It was only 5pm so I shouldn't sleep now however much my body craved it.

Fresh air. That's was was required so I hauled myself up and took a walk around the garden. Rhiannon is still going strong - I can't believe she isn't tired at all. Too much excitement, I suppose.

We were expecting our new car to be delivered today but had a phone call to say there was a problem at a customs location with two other cars on the transporter and Tim would have to collect ours from there tomorrow morning. As he has no idea where "there" is, he's enlisted the help of our fantastic liaison officer who will drive him over and Tim will follow him back home.

We're expecting the pets to be delivered by van sometime after 8pm. With no food in the house we have only one option; go to a restaurant for dinner.

Luckily there's an Italian Trattoria just down the road which turned out to be fantastic. The food was excellent, service superb and real Italian waiters. I got very language-confused, and the ice cold lager didn't help, although it did revive me.

We were stunned to see dogs welcomed into the restaurant. Very well behaved creatures, they just sat quietly under their respective tables. I still can't quite get over seeing dogs in restaurants and after coming from Japan which is incredibly dog-oriented, it was still something I'd never seen before. Can't quite imagine Kita being well-behaved enough to do the same though.

Back home, we promised Rhiannon she could stay up until Kita and Raymi arrived. Their first foray into their new home is planned. I've set up the cat's litter tray with some earth in it until we can get cat litter. Food and water is out and ready for them.

I'll let the cat out first in the kitchen then Tim and Rhiannon can let the dog out in the living area. The animals have a love/hate relationship with each other: the dog loves the cat... but it's not reciprocated. And the cat is in charge courtesy of a grumpy temperament and razor sharp claws. There are occasional moments of togetherness as the picture below (taken in Japan) shows.

At long last at 10pm a van pulls up and a very stressed-looking man comes in with their papers. Apparently it was a very, very long journey. I expect Kita whined and cried the whole way too. I felt sorry for the driver but was naturally more concerned for my pets.

I shot out to the van where two gorgeous furry faces looked out of their crates at me in a desperate and slightly accusing manner.

In they come at long last. Raymi gave me a slight purr and headed straight for his water and food. Much like normal there.

Unexpectedly, rather than greet us with effusive licks and leaps, Kita spent ages trotting and sniffing intently around the house, studiously avoiding us, much to Rhiannon's disgust. But the dog calmed down after she'd made sure the house smelled of us. I took her into the now dark garden so she could relieve herself and then fed and watered her. Both animals were extremely thirsty.

Finally Kita and Rhiannon went to bed together, followed very soon after by me and Tim.

The pack is finally back together again.

Perspective deceives - the dog is bigger than the cat, who is huge.

The Busy Day Continues - Dustbins & School

Still Tuesday 12th April 2011 - this may take three posts as so much happened.

So, we had lunch and continued unpacking while Rhiannon ran amok in the expanse of garden.

Suddenly the door buzzer sounded - an unpleasant noise making us jump out of our skin. I lean to look out of the window and see dustmen asking for our wheelie bin which is behind a locked gate. I try to tell them that no, we don't have any rubbish, but they don't understand.

Quick, where are the keys? There's a box full to the brim of random keys in the kitchen and Tim has put his set somewhere 'safe'. Luckily, Tim found his keys and dealt with the men. I hadn't realised we even had wheelie bins...

Getting in and out of this house is a major palaver. There's a high gate to the front garden that can only be opened with a key - from both inside and out. Then there's the key to get in the front door. If the front door shuts behind us and we don't have our key... that's it, we're stuck. Oh, and there's yet another key for the rickety fence-mounted mailbox. Upon opening it, I was thrilled to find two "New Home" cards from very thoughtful and lovely friends.

Then it was time to visit the international school we'd chosen. Tim phoned for a cab (using the number in our handy home-guidebook) and managed to speak to someone who understood English.

How did we select this school? Some friends are amazed that we hadn't made the 24 hour trip to visit various schools beforehand. But seriously, it's too long a trip to do that. I did a lot of internet research instead. I did feel a little nervous about it all - our choice of school in Tokyo turned out to be a big mistake.

Here we had a choice of four schools; I discounted two instantly as they didn't run the full British curriculum (I think this was the reason - it was all done a year ago) and we will probably have to return to the UK after this posting.

Of the two that were left, I was very reluctant to choose one from the same family as the Tokyo school but tried to remain open-minded. However, after doing all my research I decided on one, based mainly on the photos of the buildings and grounds - possibly not the most relevant reasons! Actually, I'm just kidding - their pastoral care and certain other aspects really appealed to me and I thought it would suit Rhiannon down to the ground. But I left the ultimate decision to Rhiannon, without telling her the names of the two schools.

She chose the same as me, but for very different reasons. The shoes she could wear! One school had a yellow uniform - "No way, Mum!" While the chosen one allowed ballet flats and a pretty summer dress. Shallow child.

Coincidentally, a friend of mine from Tokyo is also moving to Berlin later this year and visited last summer to look at all the schools. We have different criteria for our children so she chose a different school, but was able to report her findings back to me which was useful. After the earthquake in Japan she came to Berlin for a while but sadly we just missed each other by a day. I'm really looking forward to seeing her again later this year.

We arrived at school a little early and were astounded by its sheer beauty. The grounds are extensive and a pair of red squirrels bounded across the lawns. Lawns! In Tokyo the school playground was on the roof of a seven or eight storey building or on Astroturf. 

The headmistress was absolutely delightful. She showed us the various buildings and found Rhiannon's new class where she asked two girls to come out and show Rhiannon around the school. They skipped off together very happily.

The head told us they never accept children without seeing them first but she made an exception for us because Rhiannon's native language is English and her school reports were so good. Did she read the wrong ones?

Then we were introduced to another woman who will be the new head from September. Again, she was very personable. I was seriously flagging with jetlag by now though. So when she asked me what I was doing on Friday I said, "nothing".

"You are now," she laughed, "I'd like you to come and speak at our primary assemblies about your experiences in the earthquake in Japan." 

Ah.

Armed with the times of the assemblies we collected a very happy Rhiannon and headed for home. She has already made two friends of the girls who took her around. And found some conkers  in the school grounds. Red squirrels and conkers - what a lovely place.

The school have also invited Rhiannon to come into school for the rest of the week so she can find her way around and settle in; free of charge, meals and bus included.

Bus?

Yes, this is the best bit ever - the school provides a door-to-door bus service. I will never have to do a school run again. Sweet heaven!

For this, I will talk to the children about anything they ask.

First Full Day in Berlin - Morning

Tuesday 12th April 2011 dawned... at dawn.

Rhiannon woke us up just before 5am with the excited news that she'd seen a red squirrel in the garden. Yeah, OK dear...

Unable to get back to sleep I got up, dressed and trotted downstairs where I took a look outside for the first time.

Wow! What a huge garden we've inherited. Our 'garden' in Tokyo was about the size of most people's bathrooms, while this one is a field by comparison. In the centre is an enormous beech tree with a swing and a rope on it. Aged initials are carved into the trunk. A few shrubs surround the edges with pines and conifers at the end. A couple of small raised beds sit near the house where a small clump of daffodils shine in the morning light.

While supping my tea and drinking in the welcome green view I spotted a shape moving along the fence. Sure enough it was a red squirrel with a super-bushy tail. A proper Squirrel Nutkin! Gorgeous.

Rhiannon went straight out onto the swing and spent most of the day on it. It's so fantastic that she's finally got somewhere to play outside.

Time to evaluate our new home. Firstly I went for a quick walk around the garden to see what was there and to check that it would be dog-safe. It's not. The fence is only knee high so we can't let Kita out on her own untethered. What a shame. There's a lot of perimeter to re-fence; I can't see us being able to afford that. The weather's chilly and grey so I don't stay out for long.

Someone's left us a red folder with useful notes about living here. For example, details about recycling - but not when the rubbish collections are. Suggestions of places to go and what to do are also included. I peruse this, still in a daze of jetlag and travel exhaustion while Rhiannon happily swings away outside.

We've got a busy day ahead. Unpacking, of course. Someone's coming at 10am to tell us how things work in the house. We've an appointment with Rhiannon's new school at 3pm and we're hoping our pets will be delivered at around lunchtime. Tim's also expecting a call from the person delivering our new car telling him where and when to meet and collect it.

Unpacking takes forever. We don't have as much storage space here and I was horrified to see only one bookcase. I have thousands of books to come and no idea where they will go. Later we will have a restyle of the furniture in the house in an effort to make it work for us. I forgot to mention before - none of the furniture is ours, we have to make do with what's here and it's uninspiring to say the least. 

I'm also checking out where I will have my "office". Downstairs is open plan; bedrooms upstairs aren't quite right. However, we do have an enormous basement with several rooms, including a laundry room. But I cannot envisage working in a basement. I need to see outside.

We'll turn the main room into a den for Rhiannon, another is a laundry room and the others are damp and pokey. So it's either a bedroom or a corner of the dining room area again. I plump for the latter so I can see the garden. Not ideal, but it will do.

Now all I need is some paying work so I can justify buying a new desk!

Our 10am appointment goes OK. Due to the jetlag though, I didn't take in much. I asked about the possibility of getting a new fence and didn't get a very optimistic response. We'll have to wait and see.

Around lunchtime we received a phone call from the pet shippers. All's well, thank goodness, but we can't expect our furry creatures to arrive before 8pm. Customs clearance, I guess. They've had a horribly long trip. Japan to Frankfurt by plane, an overnight stay at Frankfurt's "Animal Lounge". According to their website the "lounge" can house every animal imaginable. I wonder what Kita thought of cows, horses and bears! Then they have to endure a road trip of about 7 hours to get to us in Berlin. Poor things.

The unpacking continued. 

And I will tell you about our afternoon and evening in the next post. Yes, it was a busy day.

 

 

Arriving in Berlin

"Where the bloody hell are you?!"

This was the somewhat surprising greeting I received from Mum when I phoned her from our new home. I could tell from her voice and her minor swear word, that she had been panicking in a big way.

My rather stunned response was "Well, our new home in Berlin, of course."

It was about 11pm on Monday night (11th April) when I phoned; 10pm in the UK.

I'll explain Mum's panic in a moment.

With almost no sleep for the entire trip, we were functioning on autopilot. We'd landed in Berlin airport and were stunned to discover how small it was. Our eight cases trundled off the baggage carousel and were piled at my feet.

The trolleys needed a 1 Euro coin to unchain them - welcome back to Europe. We had no coins. How the hell were we going to get them out of the hall?

Tim left us with the bags and wandered through the empty customs channel with one case to meet the "people who were going to drive us to the house". The airport was so tiny Tim was able to wander back and forth through the customs area and, with a borrowed coin, loaded up a trolley and off we went.

Our liaison officer was one of the two people collecting us, the other chap was driving. He'd got some shopping in for us - milk, sugar, bread, margarine (yuk) and cereals so we will be able to have breakfast tomorrow. Generously he also handed us a small bag of tea bags from his own kitchen. Good man! 

Let me explain a little bit about how this type of move works. Because all our possessions are en route we are provided with some basic kit to tide us over. This is called a "float". We'd been living on float in Tokyo since the beginning of March and now we'll be doing the same here for a while. The float consists of basic requirements - bedding and kitchen equipment such as a kettle, toaster and a few pots and pans, crockery and cutlery. All of which has seen better days and is a bit yukky. But at least we can eat and drink until we can get to the shops.

We unloaded the cases from the car, were handed the keys and said goodnight to our saviours.

Finally we were in our new home. Exhausted beyond comprehension and more than a little stunned by it all. I tried to do timezone maths to ascertain how long our journey had taken but my brain melted. It was about 24 hours.

Our wonderful liaison man had made the beds up for us! What a lovely thought. I put Rhiannon to bed where she fell asleep instantly.

Then I made a cup of tea and phoned Mum.

The cause of her panic was soon explained.

Japan had suffered a powerful 7.1 magnitude earthquake / aftershock which had temporarily closed Narita airport on the day we left (11th April). Mum hadn't been able to work out when the tremor occurred (timezone maths again) so didn't know if we'd taken off before it had struck - we had, obviously, as we had no idea about it. Mum doesn't have a computer so she had no way of checking and therefore was relying on others to update her. She was given the impression our plane was in Seoul.

To pile up the scare British Airways didn't update their arrivals website to say our flight had landed safely in Heathrow. So in virtual effect, our plane had completely disappeared from the skies.

With only this information to hand, no wonder she was panicking!

Too tired to explore the house, we turned up all the heaters as we were freezing and crashed into bed.

We've got a busy day ahead of us tomorrow (Tuesday 12th April).

 

Leaving Japan

I thought leaving Japan would be hard and I was right.

However, the experience of being in the Tohoku 9.0 magnitude earthquake with all its subsequent upheaval - geological as well as psychological - made it a little easier. Perhaps at the back of my mind was the thought that the Fukushima nuclear situation was more serious than we were told. But on the other hand, Tokyo is very far from the crisis zone and I trusted the independent information we were given. Further forward in my brain was the real worry that Tokyo would have The Big One (earthquake) with all the tectonic movement and pressure building elsewhere.

I desperately wanted to go and help some of the many thousands of displaced and grieving families but was unable to leave my home. Rhiannon's school was closed for what seemed like forever. They finally, reluctantly and under pressure, opened for one week just before the Easter holidays which gave me a little respite time to sort out some packing.

Aftershocks continued on a daily basis. We were all far more jumpy about them than before 11th March and this added to the immense stress I was under. I was (and still am to a certain extent) suffering from jishin yoi - earthquake sickness - a form of nausea, probably psychological but real for all that. It seems to be common judging by the searches on my Japanory blog and comments others have made to me.

Moving home is a harrowing experience in any case. But add to that the fact we were moving to almost the other side of the world (again) into a house we haven't chosen or even seen (again) and to a country I haven't been to before (again) and you may understand a little of the anxiety I was suffering.

I worried about how Rhiannon would cope with the move; she's spent half her life in Japan. Luckily, her reluctance and anxiety about moving was alleviated somewhat by the school closure (a single benefit!) and her friends also not being around. She was definitely not sad to leave the school where she had unresolved bullying problems.

As well as all that, I was fretting about how our dog and cat would fare.

When we arrived in Japan in 2006 we had two cats. Sadly, one died a week after our arrival having suffered a blood clot. This time we have a much loved dog, Kita - a Japanese Shiba Inu - to ship as well. She doesn't take well to separation and change and had been traumatised by the earthquake. To say I was very worried about her would be a massive understatement.

Because so many of my friends had left Japan post-earthquake I didn't get chance to say "sayonara" to them. Tim had a small goodbye "do" at the work bar on Friday 8th April where he got a little emotional; they were his workmates and good friends as well, so that was understandable.

Then the weekend was spent frantically packing, delivering electronic equipment to Tim's successor and generally trying to fit everything into weight-correct suitcases. The pets were taken to board by our pet shipping handler on Saturday.

Our possessions went in three shipments. Most of it was packed up on 1st March and sent in a  container on a boat. It was slightly delayed due to the earthquake but we were able to track its progress online. If it hadn't have been packed then, we would have lost a lot of precious items in the quake.This comprised about 90% of our belongings, including all but a few of my clothes.

The next batch went by plane a week before we left Japan. Included in that was my lifeline - my PC. I still haven't got it set up yet (missing some cabling and also why I don't have photos to include yet) so I'm writing this on a teeny laptop . RSI beckons. And the rest we have to carry with us - remaining clothes, vital papers, jewellery, Rhiannon's beloved cuddlies and random bits and pieces not included in the other shipments.

We went out for our last meal in Japan on Sunday and left home at 7.30am on Monday 11th April for the first leg of our trip. With 8 suitcases!

Itinerary: Japan Narita airport - London Heathrow, London Heathrow - Berlin Tegel.

This has been changed numerous times over the past weeks. We were meant to go from Haneda airport which is much closer to our home and the very early departure would mean we would arrive at our new house in daylight. Then the flights were changed due to a lack of crew and fuel to hop over to Seoul, South Korea before heading on. Finally they settled on the above which would mean we would arrive in Berlin late in the evening.

On the drive to Narita I drank in my last views of sunny Tokyo. The sakura (cherry blossoms) were in prime flower and looked stunning against the bright blue sky. Souped-up scooters whizzed along ridden in style by people with little regard to safe helmets; the billboards, the noodle-like road scheme with  tunnels and flyovers competing with the standard roads on the sat-nav. Craning my neck I saw Tokyo Tower with its newly bent spire (again, earthquake related).

We drove over Rainbow Bridge for the last time and then sped along the highway to the easy and calm Narita airport.

As we piled our cases onto the check in machine and the girl at the counter quipped "is that all?"

Yes, that's all. That's everything we have left to take out of Japan forever.

With a lump in my throat the plane took off. I didn't have a window seat so couldn't see Fuji-san for the last time. Perhaps that was for the best.

I fought back tears and ordered some therapeutic champagne.

Here's to the next adventure.

I kept repeating that to myself, but with a heavy heart.

 

 

 

 

 

Welcome to Berlinfusion!

Finally! I've chosen a name for my new blog and selected a theme and layout - for now. I've just discovered it doesn't support a particular widget I like, so I may change it at some point. I have finished configuring as much as I can but I'm not sure how much of it works yet.

A quick note about the blog name: I wanted a play on words and have pages of lists in my notebook of possible options. Some had too many syllables to be memorable to anyone but me. A couple were a little off the wall (no pun intended) and others had been used already. I like the play of "fusion" and "infusion".

 1) The merging of different elements into a union.

2)  Physics A nuclear reaction in which nuclei combine to form more massive nuclei with the simultaneous release of energy.

The latter definition caught my attention having been right in the middle of blogging about the huge earthquake in Japan and subsequent nuclear crisis at Fukushima.

And "infusion"? Well, I've always got a good old cup of tea to hand!

It also alludes to "confusion"; a state I regularly find myself in...

Anyway, for those of you who know me, hello and welcome!
And for those who don't, please take a look at my About me page so you can learn a little bit more about who I am. A brief post about our arrival is on my other blog, Japanory.

We arrived in Berlin last Monday night (11th April 2011) after an extraordinarily long journey from Tokyo.

Some of our baggage turned up today which was exciting. The main bulk of it all is due to arrive at the end of next week. I'm looking forward to being able to turn this house into a home by inundating it with all my knick-knacks and numerous wall decorations.

At the moment I am sitting on a very uncomfortable dining room chair with a miniature laptop which has a Korean keyboard layout. Not conducive to writing much. Hopefully, husband Tim will set up my newly arrived main computer tomorrow so I can do some real writing at long last. As long as my precious computer has survived the journey...

Anyway, it's coming up for 2am so I will stop rambling on for now and will be back soon.

Goodnight!