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The plight of some disgruntled expatriates is NOT a lack of access to the quality of life. It’s a subversion of ambitions by unseen forces. The puppet masters are pulling the strings of the German psychosocial machine. As I have observed, their meticulously crafted system actively discourages independent ventures, subtly funneling aspiring business owners into pre-ordained employment pathways. And let’s be frank: employment is a promising utopia here. However, this manipulation strips one’s agency and hijacks one’s autonomy. Picture arriving from where you are celebrated – admired for your appearance, intelligence, and achievements, a person of notable talent and great accomplishment.
You seek to broaden your horizons only to discover yourself isolated, struggling to forge even the most straightforward connections. This is what many are saying… Someone might dismiss this blog as my bitter lament following a failed attempt. I wanted to inform you that such an accusation could be refuted. My blessings precede my arrival, and my narrative is far more compelling than your tale of deficiency. You should attribute my extraordinary life to a stroke of luck, a fortunate confluence of events, or something more profound. My journey from the humble city of Freetown, Sierra Leone, to a coveted address in Berlin as an American citizen (and diplomat) is a testament to my improbable triumph.
The warmth of human connections punctuates my daily routine. Every encounter, from the courteous nods of local bus drivers to the neighborly invitations for beer and barbecue and excited waves from the beloved mailwoman, underscores my exceptional acceptance in this community. While I have certainly encountered unkindness, the overwhelming kindness I experience has forged a sense of belonging here. An anecdote from a few months ago exemplifies this. Following the release of “Bad Boys: Ride or Die,” the hugely popular Will Smith and Martin Lawrence film, I indulged in a well-deserved respite after the culmination of my fifth book’s publication—a random decision to go to the movies.
Clad in my customary Freddy Will ensemble—navy chinos, gleaming platinum chain, rings, watch, and bracelet—I set off for the Potsdamer Platz Cinema, my baseball cap shielding my eyes. A familiar bus driver greeted me by name at the stop, and from there, a swift transit to the train station and onward to my destination. Apple headphones throbbing the latest Amapiano music. Potsdamer Platz Kino here I come! Upon arrival, however, a spectacle diverted my attention: a throng of enthralled spectators huddled around a massive flatscreen in a nearby bistro captivated by a thrilling football match. Ignoring the electric atmosphere, I proceeded to the theatre, purchasing my ticket and two ice-cold German beers.
My seat number placed me in the theatre room beside a gorgeous contessa. Her ethnicity hinted at a mix of South American and African heritage. A brief exchange of pleasantness preceded an unexpected turn in events. Within minutes, she departed. She returned ten minutes later with an enormous bucket of lusciously buttered popcorn and two additional fresh, cold beers. Only then did she reveal her unselfish gesture of unexpected kindness. The popcorn was seasoned with an unprecedented blend of spices. It unleashed a symphony of flavors entirely novel to my palate. It was a taste sensation that I had never encountered before. We shared it like old friends. You would think we came there together.
We were nestled in plush leather armchairs while blown away by the action film. When the influence of the ale lulled me into intermittent slumbers, she greeted me with a beguiling smile whenever my gaze drifted toward her. Her hand, subtly positioned, offered a silent invitation for carnal intimacy. The credits rolled finally, but she remained poised and expectant. It was as if we were participants in a rendezvous. I did not know her name, but her posture of unspoken longing spoke volumes. She awaited my lead and was ready to follow wherever I had guided her. She extended every conceivable, implicit invitation. As we entered the night, a simple exchange of names and pleasantness punctuated our silence.
We encountered the boisterous throng around the restaurant’s television, enthralled by the ongoing soccer match. After moments of idle wandering, she announced her departure, intending to take the train home. The impetuous twenty-something-year-old Freddy Will would have seized the moment, swept her off her feet, and whisked her away to a romantic haven for a night of passionate abandonment. However, burdened by inertia, the forty-something Freddy Will lacked energy for such a pursuit. Today, I frequently decline salacious propositions. However, my inbox remains a testament to persistent oversight. I am also often ignored by women. Escorting her to the station, I bid her farewell.
A subsequent stroll revealed a vibrant scene: street musicians filled the air with loud indie rock melodies while groups of strikingly attractive young women ambled through the lively night streets of Berlin. It was as if they were also looking for the romantic arms of a charismatic Pookie to whisk them away. Or… a Freddy Will? I procured another beer and continued my amble, eventually stumbling upon a crowded Indian eatery. Securing a table outside, I placed my order, greeted by the exceptional warmth of the server. While awaiting my meal, a clumsy movement sent one of my cherished rings flying into the night. Its trajectory, coupled with my impaired vision, made its recovery seemingly impossible.
However, with commendable alacrity, a nearby gentleman pursued my errant jewel, located it amidst the darkness, and returned it to me. I was so grateful! My meal arrived and was consumed quickly, just as the doors swung shut. A summoned Uber ride whisked me homeward. The Uber driver’s amiable conversation and carefully curated playlist filled this journey, a surprisingly pleasant interlude. This commonplace vignette is a thread in my daily life in Germany. This life stretches across Berlin to the sophisticated Munich, industrious Frankfurt, cosmopolitan Düsseldorf, historic Cologne, and the quaint charm of Flensburg. My professional experience alone can yield countless such narratives…
Therefore, while I acknowledge and empathize with the voiced discontent of some expatriates, my trajectory has stood apart in most instances (so far). My understanding of their frustration stems from a shared sense of community. After all, we are interconnected within this shared experience as hopeful foreigners in Germany. The universal aspiration of budding entrepreneurs is to cultivate a thriving venture in Germany – a legacy business that enriches the community and secures generational prosperity. While climbing the corporate ladder offers a viable path to financial security, a profound desire among many newcomers is to build lives of purpose and lasting significance. Thank you for reading.
