The sweetest thing said by a stranger from the other hemisphere, whom I might never see again in this lifetime.
“This, my dear Ma’am, is Berlin. And I’m telling you, keep you eyes and heart open, because you are going to find your soulmate right here.”
Wishful thinking. But sweet, nonetheless.
A few minutes later, I was walking with my colleagues along the backside lanes of Unter den Linden, my eyes wandering over the many books, magazines and posters that were displayed on sale on the footpath. I stopped at this particular book stall (it was no stall, really, just a young man and his cart full of well arranged, worn-out looking books.) Something about the stack of books with faded covers and yellowed pages enticed me to stand there a while, and engrossed, read the faded book titles.
The book seller was probably saying something nice about each book I was picking, but those were just mumbles in the background of my head. Then all of a sudden, I jolted. I threw quick, panicked looks around me, then far around me, but all I could see was strangers. My colleagues were out of sight. I was lost. In a country miles and miles away from home, I was lost.
And it showed on my face. “Was ist los, Madam?” the book seller asked. I told him.
“Ach, don’t worry, Madam. You’re in Berlin. You can never be lost here. Whoever you’re looking for, will find you!”
Again, I wish that were true. But the only people who found me were my colleagues.
Never mind, I love Berlin.