- „You are never going to believe it: he likes my profile picture! I am not joking. How crazy is that?”

- “No way!”

Pause.

- “What do you think he means by that?”

Honestly I did not know what to reply to my excited friend. Obviously “to like” was a very positive thing and required no search for further meaning. Well, that was BEFORE Facebook has created this whole other parallel dimension, where simple and evident things suddenly got double meanings and could cause so much excitement.

We were young, we were free, but that was not enough. Our generation has decided to become social. The simple human interaction has changed: we like, comment, poke and basically stalk on our 600 “close” friends all around the world.

A profile is a sacred, mostly idealistic version of our own selves, that we take care of with great devotion. Every girl´s beauty routine now consists of a manicure, pedicure and an upload of a nice profil picture. Something not too sexy, but still attractive. Something not too boring, but still preventing embarrassment.   It is like standing in front of a huge closet packed with clothes and scream that there is nothing to wear.

Every time you take a picture, you imagine what it would look like on Facebook. The best compliment  a photo can get nowadays is: “Oh, it would make a perfect profile picture!”. How often at a party do you beg the camera holder pleeeeease not to post, not to tag and limit “to friends only”?.

Status updates are a whole new story, unfortunately not many of us master the art of captivation. Yes, I am your friend, but I do not need to know how many times a day you brush your teeth.

Now, if you are a boy and you are reading these confessions with a grin on your face, I can assure that you got hooked at least as bad as every girl did. Proof? Well, how about the fact that you most probably followed the link I posted to get to this text in first place? No matter how cool and independent you like to be from all this Facebook, Twitter, Buzz wave, you are not!

You are bored, you are curious, you got a birthday invitation – there is always a reason to end up online. But, hey, there are many positive sides to it. For example just today I have discovered a French group with over 2000 members, that teaches boys seduction online. A 40 pages booklet that starts with recommendations on how to fill out your profile, the right number of friends, frequency of status updates and goes all the way to how and which girl to add as a friend.

Before Facebook the dating procedures were simple: exchange numbers, wait for a couple of days, ask for a date, wait for another couple of days, ask for a second one (if the first one went well of course) etc. Now all you need is a name and hopefully a friend in common. To your disposition is a range of tools to play with: add as a friend, send a message, post on the wall, like the profile picture… Oh, and always keep stalking to get some proper market research for the perfect positioning.    

Last week I attended a conference on Marketing 2.0. with presentations and case studies from several multinational companies. One struck me in particular: it included a Facebook profile analysis of a “typical” fan and group member of this company´s brand The whole audience went together through the pictures and informations of Patricia, 24, from Oregon that appeared on the huge cinema screen one after the other.

The thought that somewhere on this planet my pictures and posts might be included in the development of a marketing strategy, gives me goose bumos. It is great that social us are having so much fun, but just remember: Big Brother is watching!  

So, now back to my friend: she has met this boy at a party, they talked, they kissed, then no news for two weeks and all of a sudden he “likes” her profile picture. How would you react? Well, I told her to “become a fan”.      

„Take a deep breath and search for the Shiva Mudra!“

I carefully looked around, but nobody besides me felt like laughing. All I saw were closed eyes and concentrated faces on their way to Nirvana Land. Yes, I did succumb to one of the main trends of nowadays city life and was officially signed up for yoga twice a week.

It seems that a plough position or a headstand is on the list of every modern metropolitan girl. Right somewhere inbetween sexy walks on high heels and the knowledge of at least 5 different cocktail recipes.

After my first yoga lesson, I decided to let google do the search for me. Shiva Moudra turned out to be a golden statue with several arms and a very scary face. Something more suitable for a nightmare than a sports session with adults. So next time on the mat in a slightly crippled lotus position, I decided to name an island after Shiva Moudra. Palmtrees, coconuts, white sand – welcome to Nirvana!

Another important aspect of being trendy in a city is a diet. All my friends have one. Maybe its Paris, where all clothes are generally made at least 2 sizes smaller than anywhere else and people prefer to spend money on accessories than food? A nice and favourite gesture is squeezing the skin on your tummy and start complaining about the (natural) folds that appear.

These 3 extra kilos HAVE to go, because

A) Christmas is coming and you will see your whole family again

B) Christmas just passed and you ate too much

C) Summer is always coming sooner than you think

D) No limits to your fantasy for this one!

The diet choices are extremely wide: vegeterian, vegan, organic, kosher, wholemeal. Similar to a religion you choose one and at the next dinner with your friends you announce the news. If you still have troubles to decide, then just say it´s a “special” one. You can eat everything, but A, B, C (make sure you have a list prepared!) But please don´t worry, exceptions are always allowed. Whenever you feel like chocolate and junk food, you organize a “girls only” night. On evenings like that everything is permitted and in quantities that would be enough to feed an elephant! Make sure it is accompanied by a movie with elements of love, handsome guys and a happy end. 

Generally, in France people don´t cook, they bake! Quiche, croissant, gateau... If you want to live in France and to host friends properly, well, than get a baking book and get closer to that oven. Making cakes is a French hobby, eating them rather less. It is always a torture to pass in front of a bakery in Paris! My theory is that exactly like the little Eiffel tower statues, all these pastries are made for tourists only. The French have always the discipline to walk out with a sole baguette in their hands. I guess it is something you learn, when surrounded by Louis Vuitton, Cartier and Co... 

Many children like to play it. You just imagine yourself different situations and what would happen...

if your dad was a firemen...

if there was a big hungry wolf behind your door ...

if you were born as a princess...

I was particularly good at it. Apparently I had a whole new world created on that principle and made my parents really worry! With the age my fantasy slowed down, but sometimes I still like to sit all by myself, stare in the eternal nothing and imagine different “what if”-situations...

My next destination actually turned one of my daydreams into reality.

“What if my parents had decided to move to another country than Germany? What if I had grown up in Israel or in USA?”

In New York I stayed with some friends of my parents, who were also Jewish immigrants from Perm, were both doctors and had two children my and my sister´s age. They had left Russia about two years before we did and had to start over their life on a new continent exactly the same way as us in Germany.

It was amazing to observe the crazy mix of American and Russian culture.

“Anya, would you like some tea?”

“Yes, of course!”

“With or without ice?”

The two sons, despite of their perfect English and not so perfect Russian, had only Russian friends and were both dating Russian girls. Even though they hardly ever switched to their mother tongue. Somehow I always thought that our Russian circle in Germany was an exception to the rule, but I guess I was wrong. Some aspects of immigration stay with you no matter where you go and if we had moved to Israel or to the States many surprising details in my life would not be that much different after all.

NEW YORK

When I got off the subway, I stared at the sign in front me with great disbelief. It took me a while to realize what was wrong and then it hit me: the word “pharmacy” was written in English AND in Russian! I looked down the road and gasped: cyrillic was present everywhere. A man passed in front of me.

“Excuse me!”. I asked, “What time is it please?”

The man looked at me, smiled and replied:

“Здравствуйте девушка! Почти два.“

It turned out that our friends lived in the „Russian“ part of Brooklyn. It had the cute nickname “Little Odessa” and no English was needed in that area.

Of course I went to see the famous Brighton Beach with all its Russian stores and restaurants. You had old women gossiping on the benches and old men playing domino in the parc – everything was exactly like in the good old Soviet times.
My hosts just confirmed the fame of Russian hospitality and everything turned around me all of a sudden. What did I want to eat? Where did I want to go? What were my plans for the next days? I already forgot what Russian care felt like and  these questions that were asked in half-English, half-Russian made me dizzy!  

In the following days I went to see a Broadway Show on Times Square, had a shopping tour on the 5^th Avenue, visited Ground Zero and Wall Street, dedicated a day to the MOMA museum and a night to the Pacha club.... My schedule was packed and the days kept flying by!

I remembered my first impression of NYC eight years ago. It felt so huge, so chaotic, so dangerous. This time I fully enjoyed the dynamic city life. It was not that much different from London, Madrid or Paris.

BOSTON

Speaking of ESCP: it turned out that one of my classmates was writing some kind of paper on solar energy at the MIT in Boston and he invited me to come visit him for a couple of days. Spontaneous me hopped on a cheap bus in China Town and off I went.

One of the things I love about my school is that it got a bunch of travel-addicted freaks collected into one class. You never know where and under which circumstances you will meet them. Who would have thought that one day Michele, a lovely Italian always up for a party and a blond girl, was going to pick me up at the bus station in Boston?

After New York, this city seemed very cozy and sweet. The student spirit was present everywhere!

As a true Italian, Michele had cooked me a delicious pasta dinner before we went out for drinks with his friends. They all turned out to be PhD and doctorate candidates in natural sciences. Even though they pretented to be simple beer-drinking students, their intelligence was quite intimidating. 

On the way back we got a bit lost and Michele had to ask someone for the way. This someone turned out to be the shortest skirt on the whole street! These Italians...

Next day we did a tour of the Harvard campus. It must feel weird to study in a place which is so loaded with history! Imagine getting the dorm of someone really famous. Matt Damon for example! :)     

NEW YORK

Back to the big city, I had only two more days to enjoy it. More shopping, more going out... Honestly, there was not much of a backpacker left after all this. It was quite a smooth and efficient preparation to what was awaiting me in Moscow.  

The night before leaving to Russia, I got some kind of poisoning from a mixture of Japanese food and gin tonic. I felt so sick when getting on my flight back to Europe...