Well, camp ended on September 1st. I am not sure what day that was, or what day today is. My days before were not Monday through Sunday, but rather American Athletics Day, Wild West Day, Mystery and Magic Day. And now that those labels cease to exist, I am sure that I will find Wednesday, Thursday, and Saturday again, but in sleeping, riding trains, and drinking coffee, I have yet to do so.
Camp ended sadly, quietly, and not without a real sense of relief. I was so tired at the end and something I didn't know was possible happened, my patience gave out. My patience for the kids, for the misunderstandings, for mistakes, for long days, finally ran thin and snapped. I will admit, I even cried one day, from frustration, from being provoked, and somehow, from the unexpected good behavior of one young Bart Meow. I only cried a little on the last day as we said goodbye to the kids, but I held many crying children, a little sad to leave us and really sad to leave each other. After they all left, I sat on the sidewalk and I cried about saying goodbye, and I remembered every farewell day from the beginning of summer, and I was suddenly really sad that the whole thing was over. Not sad enough to want it to continue, but just a mourning that the experience was finished. Life at Tour de Buis was a surreal experience of strangers, French children, bad coffee, orange slugs, bad singing, and being loud. I didn't know I could be so loud. But it was a good one, one I learned a lot from, and I had so much fun with the kids that I am sad it is over. I wouldn't have said this a week ago, but today I think I can honestly say that I would do it again, and I would do it better next time, as is always the case.
Anyway, I find myself back in Berlin for the third time this year. The beginning of September, much like the beginning February, is a gray and rainy time here, but I feel at home in this part of the city. I recognize things, I know where to go to find certain things, when I got off the train at the Zoo station, I knew exactly where to find the hostel, and since Mindy didn't in fact meet me at the station, I knew where to check in and found her in our room still in bed, but awake and waiting for me. I have been drinking coffee in large to-go containers, more coffee at one time than I had the entire time I was France, since France doesn't believe in large coffees or coffee to-go. I miss France already, and I spoke with two French guys in Paris at the train station while waiting for my train to Berlin the other night about half in French. I think with a few more months in France, and some concentrated effort, I could speak basic French and get around alright, and I really want that right now, though I don't have that opportunity. But I suppose this just goes to prove, that all things are possible.
I am with Mindy now, and we are going to go sightseeing. I am about out of credit, so I am closing this for now. Things are good, and I am sorry this is long but says nothing. More details later, and once I figure out how to do it, more pictures too.
Love you and miss you, but happy to still be here...amy (no longer ck)
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