I wanted my Aufenthaltserlaubnis, the residency-work permit valid for three years. The only way the Aufenthaltserlaubnis could be secured, our counselor told us, was to heiraten, to marry. This word I knew. Halfway to the elevator bank, Thomas turned to me nervously and said, “So would you like to be my wife?” I did not say “Here?” as I thought I had wanted to. I said yes. By the time we reached the parking garage, we were engaged. No ring, but there was lunch and a champagne toast after. I felt grateful.

Guernica, April 2009 > Tara Bray Smith: La Poste Américaine. Eine Amerikanerin in Berlin: Why were there always old women pushing ahead of me at the bakery on Rethelstrasse?