I Hate Moving.

Maybe you can tell by the title of this post, but moving to Hamburg was, in a word, terrible.

My train left at approximately 6am, which meant I woke up at 4am to make sure I had everything ready and that I could get to the Hauptbahnhof in time. Waking up that early wasn’t bad, but waking up to a blank room was a little jarring. Trying to ignore the fact that I was leaving the place I had just started to consider “home,” I got out of bed, took the sheets off my bed (to make it easier for my host mom to clean), and got ready to go.

It was as I was gathering all my bags that I realized that I have way too much stuff. In my defense, a lot of the weight was paperwork that I had accrued from the GIZ. Regardless, it was heavy. I steeled myself once more, finally wearing all of my bags, then realized that it was raining. Of course.

Luckily, it slowed down right as I left the house, meaning that I didn’t have to try to carry an umbrella at the same time as all of my other stuff. I made my way (slowly) from my house to the train, and eventually made it to the Hauptbahnhof. This part of the journey wasn’t so bad—it wasn’t great, but it was what I expected. My bags were cumbersome, and I was already sweaty at 5am. Not ideal.

Once I got to the Hauptbahnhof, I had to wait for twenty minutes for my train… which was late. Again: of course. I got on the train successfully, but this was when my day started to go south. My train was going to be ten minutes late to my connection in Hannover, but I only had eight minutes between my original arrival time and my next train leaving. Now, sometimes when this happens, the next train will wait on the passengers from the first train. Being that it would only make the next train two minutes late, I could only hope.

We pulled up to the platform in Hannover to discover that the train did not, in fact, wait for us, and had already left the station. It’s important at this point to note that my intended arrival time was 10am. Why so early, you ask? Well, dear reader, it’s because I had to check in to my dorm between 9am and noon. Arriving at 10am gave me plenty of time to schlep all of my things (via public transportation, of course) from the Hauptbahnhof to my dorm. After realizing that my train was gone, I found out that the next train to Hamburg wasn’t coming for another hour, making my arrival time in Hamburg now an hour late. Cool.

After dragging my (heavy) things up the stairs to the platform and a buying a cappuccino, I sat and waited. The next hour dragged on as I worried about my phone battery running out and wondered if I smelled as sweaty as I felt. As if the universe was enjoying my misery, an unholy amount of people suddenly flooded onto the platform about ten minutes before the train was set to arrive. Oh, and then the train was 10 minutes late.

I got on the train and didn’t even bother looking for a seat. I plopped my things down by a door and sat on the floor for the hour train ride, noon nearing ever closer. At about 11, still on the way to Hamburg, I realized that I was definitely not going to make it to my dorm in time. I sent a panicked email to the dorm administrators begging someone to wait for me, and I had a single spot of luck: they would stay open until 2pm. Phew.

I arrived at the Hamburg Hauptbahnhof and dragged my things to the metro. I had a short ride on the train, then had to take a bus the rest of the way. Not bad, I thought. Why did I think that? Why would I ever think that after such an awful day? Sigh. I got off the metro only to discover that the bus stop I was supposed to use was under construction, meaning that it was now split into FOUR DIFFERENT STATIONS spread across FOUR DIFFERENT ROADS. After visiting 3 wrong stops, I found the right one and boarded the bus in a huff.

Luckily, the walk from the bus stop to my dorm was only about five minutes. I filled out all of my paperwork with the Hausmeister (house manager) who was very surprised to discover that I wasn’t German because my German was so good. That was nice. He showed me to my room *cough* shoebox *cough*, told me that I had no WiFi, and left. Again, sigh. I looked around the apartment that I now shared with 6 other people and observed the disgusting kitchen, the dirty floors, and the tragically tiny bathroom. I think, at this point, I was numb to these observations, and decided to sit down for a few minutes instead of getting upset about them. That was a good idea.

After sitting for a hot second, I remembered that the next day was a national holiday, meaning that I needed to buy food right then before everything closed. This did a lot of good for my spirits, in no small part because I was hungry. The rest of the day I spent rearranging my room to my liking and trying to be less sweaty. It was good to be done.

It’s been a while now, and I’m feeling like I’ve finally settled in. I’ve met my roommates (a few Germans, a girl from Spain, and a guy from Nepal) and they’re all very nice. Because my Spanish roommate can’t speak German, we all speak English here, which stinks a little bit. I’m missing the multitude of speaking opportunities I had back in Cologne.

I suppose I should explain what my dorm is like since living in a dorm here is very different than it is in the States: My dorm is basically a shared apartment, but just for students. I have my own (very small) room, and I share a bathroom with one other girl. The kitchen is shared between all of us, along with the small living room. Some of my roommates have been living here anywhere from 8 months to 2 years—there’s not the typical move in/move out cycle that exists in American dorms. These buildings are open year-round, and they are not owned or governed by any university in particular. They are managed by a separate entity, meaning that my dorm is not on a college campus. I actually commute an hour and fifteen minutes to my campus every morning.

I don’t necessarily have any problems with this arrangement. I mean, the commute stinks, but the worst part is the continuous nature of occupation in the dorm. You see, because there’s no move in/move out cycle, there’s no opportunity for the management to clean the apartments. That means that my kitchen was (is?) revolting. The floor is covered in stains, the trash cans are layered with grime, the cabinets are all dirty, and, worst of all, there were maggots and flies everywhere. Naturally, I had a problem with this. After speaking to my roommates, I happily found out that they all did, too, so we organized a day where we would all come together and clean.

Cleaning took 4-5 of us FOUR HOURS. That’s ~17 man-hours. Were I to have done it alone, it would’ve taken me seventeen hours. Wtf. We cleaned out all of the cabinets, polished the dishes and refrigerator, and vacuumed the bugs off the ceiling. We didn’t even manage to get to the floor, so we’ve set another date to do that. At least now I feel like I can prepare food in my kitchen without fear of getting sick.

In my own room, I’ve managed to make myself comfortable. It’s small, but I like it. I don’t need a lot, but I’m very thankful that I have my privacy. I also have a pretty view, and I get to watch the sunset most nights. I’m feeling more at home every day here, and every day is better than the last.

TL;DR: I moved to Hamburg.