Thursday, September 12, 2013

A Week of Firsts

This past week has been a week of firsts. For the first time in months, my heart felt light and at peace. I felt peace about being in Berlin. I felt excited for the future. I felt God's heart beat for mine again. It was a week of getting out of my comfort zone, of diving in and fearlessly embracing a life that doesn't involve much of my own choice.

On Thursday night I joined the local church small group gathering I was invited to earlier in the week. As I worshipped and prayed in community it felt as if I was with my small group back in Scotland. But I wasn't and I felt so unknown.

On Friday, I auditioned for a room in a shared flat - party style. I am rather proud of the fact that by the time I left the party mayhem, I managed to at least identify two of the seven tenants living there - as well as the room that could have been mine if I had still wanted to compete for it.

Following Saturday, I photographed my first wedding. I was put in touch with the couple through a mutual friend and to say that I was scared would be the understatement of the year. The wedding was absolutely beautiful and, gladly, the pictures turned out well. More on that later.

Sunday afternoon witnessed yet another first: together with my friend Laura, I strolled through an area called Mauerpark and its adjacent flea market. It seems to have become a traditional Sunday staple over the years and I can totally understand why. Laura and I enjoyed a gazillion treats (hello, crêpe galore!) and the oh-so traditional open-air karaoke.

On Monday  I painfully realized summer is over - and for the first time in years I am not ready for it. I am desperately holding on to the freedom of endlessly long days and sunshine. I wish I had at least a few more weeks to explore Berlin in all its summer glory.

On Tuesday, the long hours spent attempting to learn how to play the guitar finally paid off. For the first time, the tunes resembled actual songs and I was ale to truly enjoy the sound of it all.

And, yesterday, on Wednesday, I attended my first French lesson. Being more of a Latin and Spanish type of girl, I've never took French in school (don't judge, back then I really thought Latin was going to be useful. In retrospect, I have no idea where that reasoning came from). For the next six months, I will have classes twice a week. A lovely lady from Martinique will be teaching me about all the grammatical rules and regulations and I am only hoping I will be able to keep track.

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