If it were possible to have a concise, uncomplicated thought about Berlin, then perhaps writing a reflection on my time spent in this city would come a little easier.
For the past three months I’ve lived in Schöneberg, a predominantly Turkish neighborhood in West Berlin. I have an Apotheke across the street, two discount grocery stores within a two-block radius, the Yorckstrasse S1, S2, S25 and U7 just a three-minute walk away and I have a variety of Turkish bodegas and eats just at my doorstep; on Wednesdays and Saturdays there’s a Turkish market just a block away, good ol’ Hisar’s—reigning favorite of Schöneberg Falafel fans—right by the S-Bahn, and then of course there’s Pasam’s Baklava, home of the best Baklava
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