Berlin-ing continued

Lotta and I are clutch travel buddies. The picnic-on-three-different-modes-of-transit affair alone could have proved that. On Monday we headed to the DDR museum (English: GDR... I couldn't help but think of Dance Dance Revolution! every time I heard about the former DDR). Awesome, I'd totally recommend it - and Berlin is FULL of museums... I am embarrassed to admit that when I've thought about modern German psychology in the past I usually haven’t really considered the full ramifications of forty years of East/West division. Perhaps in part because of the US perspective on Germany and American connection to German history the Holocaust and World War two were faaarrrr more highlighted in my education on Germany. In general I’ve found that recent history gets left out – especially in secondary education… most classes go up through World War two and then just sorta give out.

Anyhow – East Germany. The museum was great but Lotta and I felt we learned much more from her Finnish friend Oskar who lives in Berlin and my friend from Humanity in Action, Ursula who lives in Berlin and also spent a year in rural Eastern Germany as a high schooler. Oskar took us to the East Wall Gallery – the longest remaining stretch of the Berlin wall that is covered in art made by commissioned artists after the fall. What the HELL is going on with us humans and putting up walls between people? I thought back to being in Mostar, Bosnia-Herzegovina this summer with HIA friends, visiting Marija. This somewhat arbitrary line that didn’t mean anything and then all of a sudden was continually showered in bullets. In Mostar we could see how the division had caused two city centers to solidify… but of course Mostar is nowhere near as large as Berlin. I found myself wishing I knew more about urban planning and theories of urban anthropology because everywhere you look in Berlin there’s probably something to be said about the way walls and history have formed the place. It makes for a very neighborhoody place today – which I always love. It freaks me out when cities don’t have discernibly different areas. I think that probably has to do with the fact that Seattle will always be my referent for “city” and Seattle has such sharp boundaries made by waterways, hills, lakes, the ocean that it seems only normal to me that other cities would as well. Along the wall and throughout the city you could find quite many “Free Palestine” messages and similar. Made me curious to know more about Palestine-Israel politics in Germany on a street level.

I met Ursula in Sarajevo this summer at the HIA summer conference and then two weeks later met up with her in Belgrade where she was visiting her Serbian roommate – HIA connect! But seriously… she’s one freaking cool woman who had some fascinating insights to share. The masters program that she’s doing now (her thesis is due in less than three weeks but she still made time to meet me!) is on Turkish-German relations. The first year was in Ankara and the next year and a half in Berlin – such a cool format!

She’s pretty fluent in German so I wanted to ask her how Germans speak about their history. That’s something about which you can read as many articles as you want and even talk to people. But the real nuance of how people express their views in their native language will always say something more. She said point-blank that Germans refer to the East-West division on a daily basis – in so many conversations that she hardly notices it anymore, which at first surprised me quite a bit. But then, come on, it was less than my lifetime ago that Germany we reunified. And if I can start seeing reminders of that past after a day in the city (the metro in former East Berlin doesn’t say how long until the next train but it does in the West, it’s noticeably grimmer when you go further from the center out East, and oh look, there’s the wall) I’m guessing Germans can as well. They talk about the war quite openly as well. However Ursula had some very specific qualifications about how the war is discussed. They don’t mention the Holocaust. At least in normal conversation. And they don’t talk about specific actions they or people they know committed in the war. They refer to it as (translated) “Nazitime”. Ursula told us a story of a visit to her German boyfriend’s grandma’s house. His Grandma had photos of her husband in Nazi uniform all over the photo albums, which, of course, struck Ursula. I think if I’d have heard that before living in Europe I would have been disturbed. It’s not, however, as if this woman celebrates the Nazis. She loves and misses her deceased husband and will openly say – yes, that is a Nazi uniform and that was a bad time.

There’s a lot more to say but I don’t want to bore people! Lotta and I went to the Turkish market… so nice! Dad, it made me think of the Spice Market in Istanbul J  Not because it actually looked similar or anything… but just because it was Turkish. Fabric, fabric, fabric. Lotta and I got matching tiny pill boxes and necklaces with pendants that have working watches :D  Nothing like a good market wander!

We then headed off to a not-so-typically-tourist stop…. Gesundbrunnencenter. It’s a big shopping center with really good deals. I love doing normal-ish things on vacations like going to a grocery store for sure. We also live in one of the pinnacles of expensive living and needed winter clothing so it was a pretty pragmatic trip… I got some awesome German winter shoes and thankfully had my very own Scandi (Lotta) there to make sure they were sturdy and warm enough. The first couple I looked at didn’t pass her muster. I must confess…. we ended up there twice…. Lotta was kind enough to go back with me the next day when I realized I needed a bigger size. I think we were the funnest thing to ever walk into that shoe shop. The salespeople sure had a field day with us. Not the hottest English on their part on only Lotta’s elementary and secondary school German language classes between the two of us, so it was a bit choppy… But they were practically giddy to have an American shoe-shopper. Then I headed out of the shop (it was in a mall so it wasn’t the craziest thing) to walk in front of it). They nearly had a FIT because apparently that’s NOT DONE. They were laughing hysterically about it. Then one lady was putting away shoes and put one pair in the wrong box. THAT sent them into another fit of giggles. I think the joke was: “I was disorganized!”