Tag Archives: Berlin

Insights, experiences, and activities related to the city of Berlin.

#70 A proper winter, and an improper amount of complaining

After last Christmas, temperatures here in Berlin dropped and never really rose again. Daily snow, frozen lakes, and icy streets turned into routine. So did people going to the hospital with broken bones after slipping on ice. Public transportation became a nightmare—if not absolute s***.

People’s faces shifted from the usual grumpiness, the don’t-look-at-me attitude, to full-on I’m-going-to-kill-someone expressions. Many fled Germany because, for them, it was “too much to handle,” life-threatening even. They went somewhere sunny to stay alive.

I have to admit that, for a while, I was starting to get dragged into this collective incapacity to live through winter (and I am freaking Brazilian-Italian!). But then I thought: fuck this mentality. Let me appreciate the beauty of this time of year.

I usually enjoy life the most when I’m on my own—it’s just how I am, and I love that about myself. It’s one of my biggest strengths. That was the first breakthrough that helped me reconsider the season. I could finally enjoy my alone time even more, thanks to the slowness, the quietness, and the stillness winter brings.

The second breakthrough came when I stopped complaining to myself.

Social complaining in Germany is unavoidable—it’s almost a way of socializing—so in that sense I go along with conversations. When I’m on my own, though, I actively avoid it. It’s not a New Year’s resolution or anything like that; I just try to catch myself early when I fall into that pattern.

It took me a while to fully understand what scientists have been repeating for years, but when I complain alone, I reinforce a story in my head—and that’s not good (nicht gut!). I spiral into deeply depressing thoughts and start feeling like I’m drowning in them.

So I made a real effort to internally flip the narrative. Suddenly, what had been a dark, shitty day turned into a cozy one, with dimmed lights and the freedom to do whatever I wanted—or nothing at all. Especially my alone time turned into bliss. To be fair, it has always been blissful for me to spend time alone. I find the opposite incredibily difficult. But this winter, I’ve been slowing down even more.

There was a third breakthrough… there was one. But I forgot it.

To close, I’ll repeat one of the mantras that comes back often in my writing: self-compassion, self-compassion, self-compassion is the key. It doesn’t matter if you’re surrounded by amazing people—if you’re shitty toward yourself, you’re creating the conditions to rot in misery. And that’s not what we want.

We want self-compassion. Not denial. Not lying to oneself. Just appreciating our existence as it is. Easier said than done—it’s a life-long quest for all of us. But practice makes perfect.

#19 The humbling path of starting over

When I started my new job last November, I thought I would have learned everything there was to know about the role very quickly, that I would have been speaking the smoothest German in no time, and that after a few weeks, I would be having promotion talks with my manager for my outstanding performance.
I came from a very challenging position as a Senior Content Designer, handling the end-to-end content of multiple products in different languages for a tax-filing app. Whatever lay ahead of me, will not be more challenging than that. I thought.
– Besides. – I said to myself. – It’s just a customer support role. How difficult can it be? Plus. – I concluded. – I am a senior professional with years of experience helping people understand complex topics easily.”

I can’t believe the size of the bait I took from my own ego. My arrogance, ignorance, and stubbornness were totally detrimental to me. On the outside, though, I was handling myself very well—I wore, once more, the shoes of a devoted student who’s fully dedicated to learning as much as possible and who’s very appreciative of the opportunity given, especially in these times when having a job feels more like a privilege than a human right. On the inside, feelings of dissatisfaction and frustration corroded me, as I secretly perceived this new beginning as a step back in my career—a feeling that got in the way of the smoother and more pleasant start I was so much looking for.

But paradoxically, what saved me from complete self-sabotage was exactly the intensity of the challenge I was facing, which stimulated my curiosity and willingness to overcome the obstacles and difficulties I encountered.

The first massive challenge I experienced was communicating with colleagues exclusively in German. The funny thing is that a German-speaking job was something I had been looking for since I moved to Germany, but achieving that isn’t simple. You need a good level of German to start from, and despite the hundreds of hours I had invested in courses, tandems, reading books, and watching movies in German, having a normally paced conversation at work is tough. You can’t really stop and ask people to repeat a sentence constantly.

The second challenge was learning new concepts related to computer networking, electronics, and many other technical topics fundamental to understanding the products and customers.

Finally, the third biggest and maybe most complex challenge is understanding the myriad of problems that customers face and learning how to guide them toward the best, most simple, and satisfying solution possible—all while avoiding taking anything personally and being a company cheerleader.

So how did I keep afloat during these first two months in this radical and challenging career change? How did I maintain my sanity while facing such a steep learning curve? Once more, acceptance and surrender really helped me. Understanding that I couldn’t have everything under control as I did after years of experience in other roles, and that I would struggle to communicate with my colleagues and clients in German, was truly like lifting a huge weight off my shoulders. I know that my German will suck for months until it doesn’t anymore; I know I won’t be in my comfort zone in terms of skills and knowledge until I will again; and I know I will struggle to solve most customer problems until I have mastered the most important of them.

Growth is less about perfection and more about perseverance. It’s more about embracing limitations and focusing on incremental improvements than setting flashy goals and unrealistic expectations. When we restart with a series of overwhelming challenges ahead of us, it’s really okay to feel uncomfortable, to struggle, and to sound silly while speaking a very complex foreign language—that’s learning right there, that’s growth right there! Nothing could be better than that.

Things take time, especially when there are big changes involved that we are not used to handling. But things are difficult until they aren’t anymore.

I’m really looking forward to seeing where I’ll be one year from now. At the same time, I want to exorcise from my future any freaking layoff shadow—even though now I know that I can overcome that too.

#13 The woman with the bike on the tram

This morning, I experienced a typical Berlin mid-November scene: a tram packed with moody, wet adults, adolescents, and children on their way to work and school. The energy was subdued yet calming. Despite the lack of enthusiasm and excitement, there was a certain peace in the air. Everyone was minding their own business, respecting the unspoken agreement to keep conversations minimal. Heads were buried in screens, books, or gazing out of the window.

As usual, I took out the book I was currently reading and, within moments, was completely absorbed. The city noises, the smell of soaked bodies—all of it faded as I was drawn deeper into the story. The opening and closing of doors at each stop and the subtle shifts in the crowd barely registered as I turned page after page.

Then, the flow of the commute was interrupted. A woman with a bike entered the tram exactly where I was standing forcing me to make a couple of steps back and squeeze myself against a bench of strangers, including a tiny girl that had chosen a corner for herself to zoom out of the rest of the crowd. The woman with the bike pushed her way in, further jostling against the tightly packed passengers, risking injury to both children and adults standing shoulder to shoulder. Eyes turned toward her, expecting an apology, a conciliatory smile, or, better yet, her realizing the situation and stepping back out. But none of that happened. She stood there, straight and stiff, chin held high, exuding an air of entitlement I had rarely seen.

I noticed a baby seat attached to the back of her bike as she pressed a few children against the doors. The passengers, already drained and bracing for their day ahead, lacked the energy to challenge her behavior. It was simply too early for that. And me? I wouldn’t dare confront a mother during the morning rush in a city as ultra-feminist and politically correct as Berlin. Not a chance.

Still, like everyone else, I was irritated. The carefully curated, mid-November bubble of morning quiet had burst. The shared sense of empathy was gone, replaced by heavy sighs and exasperated glances as the tram carried us to the next stops.

Finally, my transfer stop arrived. I crossed the street to the S-Bahn at Alexanderplatz, boarded the train, and reopened my book, ready to return to my story.

Written on 14.11.2024

#9 A job market transformation – Part 2

Not the best time to move to Germany

There are many aspects to consider before moving to a new country or city. Right now, though, the list goes beyond the usual considerations like culture, language, lifestyle expectations, or city appeal. We are undergoing powerful transitions in society, technology, and geopolitics that could reshape our perception of the world for a long time. And it’s not just individuals who need to adapt; families, institutions, communities, and companies must also come to terms with what is happening now and what these changes will bring.

Leaving aside the topic of artificial intelligence—which is already having a major impact in ways we can hardly predict—there are other significant forces at play. For instance, there is a noticeable shift toward more conservative and right-wing policies, which are changing how societies think about immigration. In recent years, there was a wave of solidarity and openness toward migrants, but now a more pragmatic and less tolerant narrative is gaining ground. It’s happening so quickly that even people who previously found this kind of mindset unthinkable are now aligning with it.

Further challenges lie ahead

Wars are breaking out in various regions, directly threatening Europe’s stability. The conflict in Ukraine has already had far-reaching consequences, with economic sanctions, energy crises, and shifting military strategies impacting countries across the continent. Meanwhile, China’s booming exports of electric vehicles are challenging Germany’s longstanding dominance in the automotive industry, sending shockwaves throughout Europe. The country that once set the benchmark for car manufacturing is now grappling with the pressure to innovate and stay competitive in a rapidly changing market.

These developments stir up fear, and fear often leads to a desire for strong leadership. This dynamic can pave the way for leaders who use nationalism and populist rhetoric to appeal to people’s insecurities. When a society starts to retreat into itself, valuing national pride over openness, the consequences can ripple through everyday life, influencing social interactions, job opportunities, and even cultural trends.

Here in Berlin, for example, I’ve noticed a shift toward a more conservative mindset. While there are still job opportunities, they are increasingly more accessible to locals or, at the very least, to those who speak the language fluently. The city’s diverse and international reputation is still alive, but the job market is no longer as accommodating to newcomers who lack strong German language skills. As companies face economic uncertainties, they prioritize candidates who can quickly integrate into the workplace culture and communicate seamlessly with customers and colleagues.

Moreover, the country’s economy is struggling to regain its footing amid global challenges. The energy crisis sparked by the war in Ukraine, combined with the disruption of the automotive industry by Chinese competitors, is creating a perfect storm of economic pressure. Inflation remains a concern, with rising living costs eroding the quality of life for many residents. For those considering a move to Germany, especially without a clear professional path or language skills, this might not be the best time to take the leap.

Germany’s situation serves as a reminder that the global landscape is shifting. What was once a relatively predictable place for career growth and stability is now part of a broader trend toward economic protectionism and social conservatism. The conditions that made it an attractive destination are changing, and anyone contemplating relocation should weigh these factors carefully.

It is important to acknowledge the complexity of this topic, as there are many other historical, economic, and social dynamics that I have not addressed here. This post is not an attempt to exhaust the subject but rather a personal reflection to make sense of what’s going on in these uncertain times.

To be continued.

#4 A job market transformation – Part 1

The current situation on the German job market

If I’ve understood the data published by the German employment agency this month correctly, things on the job market here in Germany are getting worse and likely won’t improve in the near future. I can only hope that the EU’s forecast for next year holds true and that 2025 will bring us not just the federal elections but brighter news on this front as well.

From a candidate-driven to an employer-driven job market

Five years ago, when I moved to Berlin, just before COVID hit, the job market was thriving. Before that, I had spent four years living in Barcelona, where salaries were so low that even while working for a prestigious companies, I struggled to make ends meet—and I was living by minimalist principles!

So when my ex decided to move to the former European startup heaven (yes, Berlin), I didn’t think twice about following. Sure, I was in love and ready to follow her anywhere, but Berlin had its own pull. It was not just the obvious reasons—its reputation as a hub for social progress, its cosmopolitan openness, its rich cultural life, its spectacular history, and its proximity to stunning nature. I also had a personal goal: to face the German language once again. I had studied it for a few hours a week in high school but retained almost nothing—and was soon reminded why!

When I first arrived, I think I applied for maybe three jobs, got one callback, went through the interview process, and landed the position. Easy peasy.

While employed, I regularly received messages on LinkedIn from recruiters eager to bring me to their teams. Everything was buzzing, and it felt like all doors were open. They called it an “candidate-driven market,” a sharp contrast to today’s “employer-driven” one.

Back then, the number of English-speaking jobs was staggering, to say the least. It felt like I was living in a bubble where speaking German was barely necessary for daily life.

But things have changed dramatically, and it all happened so fast. For expats, especially those like me who were laid off, it’s been a harsh reality check—a bitter pill to swallow.

Continue reading Part 2 >>