*Note: Translations may be partially inaccurate because I have limited language skills in French, Spanish, and Yiddish. If you have any translation qualms, drop a line.
BUSHWICK SAYS… is back. I document lives of Bushwick residents and strangers through random pictures, quotes, stories, and anecdotes. This week I met a lot of foreigners.
“I should know how to do this. I’m from Germany.”
I ran into a neighbor in, of all places, my Midtown office building. It was the building happy hour, of course. She struggled to properly pour a pint.
“Where in Germany are you from?”
I always ask this, thinking I can somehow identify with the Germans and make meaningless conversation from my high school days as a schueler (German student). Oh ja, das is sehr gut [oh yes, that is very good]. Maybe we’ll recollect lessons from Run Lola Run, discuss Kafka, or talk about sausage—whatever Germans do.
Seriously though, I ask this question because, not more than four months ago, I resided in Berlin (and Hamburg but that’s not important), analyzing expats and drinking Jaeger. By analyzing expats, I mean playing ping pong where expats infrequently visited, and drinking Jaeger.
“From Berlin. I live in Bushwick now.”
And the questions pour.
“Oh, really, I just returned…and also live in Bushwick. Crazy. What brought you here? Why? Do you plan on returning? Actually, I have a crazy question for you…”
Berlin ist überall. Ich gehe die Tür und treffe Freunde aus Berlin. Ich fahre mit dem Fahrstuhl den 6. Stock und treffe dich, der du gerade aus Berlin zurück gekehrt bist. [Berlin is everywhere. I walk down the door and meet friends from Berlin. I take the elevator to the sixth floor and meet you, who just returned from Berlin.]
Here are a few more expats:
More Germany: Ich glaube ich bin ein Hobbit. [I think I’m a hobbit.]
Chile: la cosa es cuando hay una zorra (mujer) y esta hacienda ojos contigo, que haces?Haz lo que es natural. Gracias, po, por la tequila. Viva Chile. [The thing is when there’s a bitch (female) eyeing you, you do? Do what comes naturally. Thanks, po, for the tequila. Viva Chile.]
France: Je t’aime ma cherie. [I love you my darling.]
Canadian/American conglomerate:
Argentina (in English): The future & the past the unseen the sound of music.
Now, to the American expats. By expats, I mean those who defected from their region to enjoy Bushwick (NYC).
Pennsylvania: I have a mental problem where I get obsessed with one, singular, song for weeks on end…So yo I gotta go, it’s time for me to rock it I put baloney in my left pocket. Smear cream cheese in my gold locket. Cause it’s my show, I’m Andy Milonakis.
Fuck that mustache.
Lessons of the Week
When one door closes, another door opens. When that door closes too, sometimes there’s a window nearby. If it’s locked, put on your party shoes and fucking DANCE.
Write drunk. Edit sober.
