By: Siyeon Lee
10/15/25
BERLIN — “I feel like I’ve lived three lifetimes in one day,” my friend and colleague Alex Norbrook told me as I joined him in the dining room at half past ten. The ends of my pants were soaked and ragged, disintegrating from the rain; a gaping hole now adorned my leather bag. Indeed, I felt like I had traversed multiple different worlds within the span of 12 hours — from French patisseries, Palestinian bookstores, to the Berlin Wall, the only unified aspect of my striking day was my constantly drenched hair.
I started off the morning with my classmates Josie, Raphi, and Miriam visiting the Berlin Wall. Plastered in layers of graffiti and underwhelming in its physical stature (especially in comparison to its overwhelming historical one), we engaged in ranging conversations, from the meaning of a Princeton education to the implications of Bari Weiss’ appointment as CBS’ Editor-in-Chief. As per the recommendation of Raphi’s friend, we then headed to a French patisserie with outdoor seating and ate lunch.
After lunch, Raphi, Miriam and I then headed to Sonnenallee, the most famous Arab neighborhood in Berlin. We visited a Palestinian bookstore and an eccentric second-hand clothing store with a not-so-eccentric name (‘Second Hand’); I then departed to conduct my two interviews for the day.
My first conversation was with Berit Ebert, a professor of EU law and the politics of gender equality in Europe. Ten floors above ground at a hotel bar, Ebert and I ordered a coffee and spent the hour speaking about her work, the intricacies of the EU’s procedures, and Israel-Palestine coverage in Germany. Afterward, I headed back to Sonnenallee for my interview with Hesham Moamadani, Syrian refugee and former investigative journalist who now works at Bard as a ‘Civics Engagement Officer.’
Sitting in a levantine restaurant with steaming chicken kebabs in hand, the 30-something Moamadani wore a toothy smile and a handsome face that betrayed little of his harrowing life story. For the next four hours, Moamadani recounted the experience of his escape from war-ridden Syria in 2015. He spoke about his protests against the Assad government that nearly led to his death, as well as his 8-hour-long swim from coastal Turkey to Greece.
Speaking about his other interview experiences, he said, “I don’t like it when people reduce my life just to my experience as a refugee,” pulling a brown leather pouch from his pocket. “I’m more than just that identity, you know?”
As Moamadani grabbed a pinchful of tobacco leaves from his unzipped pouch and expertly rolled then lit his cigarette, I idled at the edge of the restaurant entry, knowing little to say nor do.
Rainwater had accumulated into a wide, ocean-like puddle beneath the restaurant stairs — we were trapped. “Just jump,” he said. “You got it.”
