Wednesday, January 16, 2019 // The Statement
7B
Wednesday, October 30, 2019 // The Statement
7B
D
uring
my
second
month
in Berlin, one of my good
friends from Ann Arbor who
also happened to be studying abroad
visited me for a week. Kieran has
always had a strong adventurous spir-
it, and our friendship developed from
our ease of conversation and search
for stories to tell. He had heard from
one of his German friends that the
cafe “Zuckerbaby”, loosely translated
as sugar baby, was the place to go, so
we went on his last day in Berlin. We
walked in the rain from my apartment
to the cafe laughing at the week we
had just shared and wondering what
our lives would look like once we were
back in Ann Arbor. We made it to Zuck-
erbaby, rather drenched, ready for a
warm meal. As we sat at a small table
with mismatched chairs, the rain still
hitting the rattling window. We said
our goodbyes over grilled cheese sand-
wiches that felt like home.
Even with Kieran gone, I made Zuck-
erbaby one of my go-to spots in Berlin.
I think I would go because they made
grilled cheese sandwiches with cheese
oozing from the sides and frankly the
best vegan carrot cake. I understand
that having carrot cake as a favorite is
rather odd. People will often critique
carrot cake because it has raisins. I
don’t understand this hatred of raisins.
To me, the case in favor of carrot cake
is simple — it is moist and sweet, but
not overpowering. And honestly, who
can say no to a buttery cream cheese
frosting? But beyond the carrot cake,
my love for Zuckerbaby is grounded
in its ambience and charm, which
reminded me of my favorite cafe in
Fayetteville, Ark — a little cafe called
Arsaga’s located right next to the rail-
road. Something about the old building
housing Zuckerbaby — with exposed
brick, old furniture and mood lighting
— brought me back home to Fayette-
ville while studying abroad in the cold
Berlin.
One of my closests friends in Germa-
ny was Tabea, and I made sure to take
her to Zuckerbaby. We met on a rainy
Saturday afternoon and sat down at a
charming wooden table. At the other
end was a family — a set of parents,
their newborn, and what I imagined
were two overjoyed grandparents.
Tabea and I spent a couple hours just
talking and watching the day go by.
Customers would come in and leave.
The day was at peace.
Right behind Tabea, still within my
eyesight, an older couple sat down. As
I listened to Tabea talk, I couldn’t help
but observe them. They reminded me
of my parents. I wondered if my par-
ents would get to live into their older
years like the couple before me, and
if they would spend their Saturday
afternoons in cafes together just as
they once had when they were teen-
agers. I lost track of the couple for a
while. However, when I refocused my
attention to their general direction, I
noticed that the man had taken a leash
out of his bag. In my mind, I imagined
two stories.
The first, that the couple had just
put down a furry companion, and they
were now at Zuckerbaby to avoid going
back to the home that once housed
their dear pet.
The other story was also about a dog.
Perhaps they had decided to adopt a
dog.
Neither of these proved to be cor-
rect.
I remember watching intently, as
the man eagerly attached the leash to
the choker on the woman’s neck. I was
taken aback by this, to me, brazen act.
However I noticed that every so often,
he would tug the leash and her head
would lunge in the direction of his
crotch. He did this once or twice mak-
ing eye-contact with me — a held gaze
that I broke each time.
I remember my brain was trying to
process a lot at once as this interac-
tion was unfolding before me. The first
thought that came to my mind: only in
Berlin. I had a morbid curiosity to keep
watching, but I also heard my mom’s
voice in the back of my head reminding
me that it is rude to stare. But I mostly
got caught up in the scene happen-
ing all around me: a tranquil Saturday
with a friend, the noises of a cooing
baby behind me juxtaposed with the
image of an older but seemingly kinky
couple.
I wondered for a while what it is that
I found so jarring as I sat and watched
that couple in Zuckerbaby. Was I taken
aback by the very exposed nature of
the behavior? What does that say about
my own assumptions of sex? I also con-
sidered if I was taken aback because
the couple was older and dressed in
posh clothes. Not the type of image I
associate with kinky behaviour.
I recognize that conversations sur-
rounding sexuality are getting easier
to have, but still not the norm. We
don’t always like to openly talk about
how we are sexual beings. We don’t
like to talk about fetishes. We hardly
talk about how women are also sexual.
And we certainly don’t talk about how
older people are still doing it. But why?
Why do we associate sex with youth?
Is our understanding of sex so
closely tied to our sight that we can’t
think of an older body being attractive.
There seems nothing inherent about
sex or even love that would be exclu-
sive to younger generations. Sure, the
body changes, but does that funda-
mentally mean that sex and old age
are diametrically opposed? How do we
overcome our assumptions? I wonder
are they living a more honest sexuality
than I am — unashamed?
I don’t have the answers to any of
these questions, but what the overt
scene lay bare were my own hasty
assumptions and judgments about sex.
This couple, inadvertently, planted a
seed in my mind that has grown into
several questions.
As I observed the couple, I tried to
overcome my initial prejudice, and
tried to see them for what they were in
that moment: strangers, with an equal
right to express and explore their sex-
uality.
I thought, only in Berlin.
Free love in Berlin
BY MARTINA VILLALOBOS, STATEMENT COLUMNIST
ILLUSTRATION BY KATE GLAD