Maya the Wandering American

AGH
Lollapalooza is this weekend! Two whole days of dancing and fun! I bought new outfits! I'm so excited! Billie Eilish and Swedish House Mafia and Martin Garrix and Hozier and Rex Orange County and Princess Nokia! But also, I am STILL homeless. Today, Friday, I've reserved for doing a weekend's worth of homework, but the fact that I have to move into a new hotel is distracting as ever. Gotta wash a bunch of clothes (for 5 Euros a load), figure out what to bring, pack, and pray that this time I'll have Wifi. Plus, two papers due on Monday, a film to watch, and 100 pages of reading oh my! The program claims I'll have a NEW apartment room to move into on Monday evening, but that is a long ways away.

In Other News
"IT Chapter 2" was really good. Like, surprisingly good for a 3 hour movie about an evil clown. Go see it if you enjoyed the first one, but be warned: it should have about 3 trigger warnings in the first 15 minutes alone (especially for LGBTQ+ people) and is considerably more scary than the first one. I screamed (more than once).
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I gave a presentation in class last week on the Dachau concentration camp and memorials, which went really well. I hadn't given a presentation in years, and was super nervous because I didn't have notecards written out. I ended up using notes on my laptop, but received praise for not reading off my Powerpoint. I talked for at least 12 minutes, and was even excited to answer questions at the end of presentation.

After my presentation, a friend was doing hers on the Children's Holocaust Memorial in Vad Yashem and asked for thoughts on the memorial itself. I raised my hand (because no one else was) and played Devil's Advocate. "It feels very American to me, the way they almost manipulate your emotions and force this sad catharsis that is disconnected from empathy or history for the people behind the memorial." Apparently, this was the wrong thing to say. I got the discussion going for sure, but people who had been to the memorial (which is in Israel by the way) did not agree with my statement. My professor actually said I had made a good point, and talked about it briefly at the end of class, but now everyone except him thinks I hate dead Jewish children.
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Speaking of dead Jewish children, I just finished the memoir of Shalom Auslander (thanks Momma G). He's witty and embittered, telling the stories of his childhood in an Orthodox Jewish community on the East coast. He has this personal relationship with his God, which he navigates differently throughout his life. Adding/subtracting sins, tit-for-tat, complete devotion or complete apathy. Even though I don't believe in his God, it reminded me of child Maya; she believed if she didn't think "Dad is not going to have a kidney stone today," he would have a kidney stone. She was making deals with some sort of God before she knew what God was. Anyways, a good read for anyone who likes laughing, regardless of their religious identity.

Author's Note: As I'm typing this in a Starbucks-type cafe, there is a man rolling a joint at the table next to me. Berlin is a strange place.