Day 1
Bus
My Berlin journey began with a first for me: the night bus. It wasn't quite as disastrous as the London bus, but it was not at all comfortable. The bus left Rotterdam around dinnertime and seemed like a never-ending experience. When you take the night bus, you implicitly agree to turn a bus seat into a bed. If you enjoy the sensation of a concrete mattress that is folded into an L shape and padded with the density of .4 cotton balls, you will love "sleeping" on the bus. I already have an impossible time falling asleep in moving vehicles, so staying awake the entire night was my fate. I also had the good fortune of sitting in a window seat next to a person with exceptionally-large thighs and behind some guy who figured out how to recline his seat basically into my lap, i.e. I couldn't even stretch the tiniest bit in my seat. This made the midnight passport check in freezing temperatures seem like a refreshing spa appointment. Moreover, though the bus had an ETA of 7am, the driver managed to arrive around 5:15am. Although having more time in a new city sounds good in theory, this meant wandering around the dark streets of Berlin with two bags trying to figure out how to get to a metro stop. (Being a wandering Jew in the middle of Berlin doesn't sound like an ideal situation...) I eventually found one, bought a 3-day Berlin city pass, and took it to the stop I wrote down on my Google maps printout. After more wandering around dark back alleyways, I found the hostel and dropped off my bags.
East Side Gallery (Berlin Wall)
No trip to Berlin would be complete without a walk along the Berlin Wall/East Side Gallery. It's a fantastic blend of history and art. What was once a dividing line between East and West Berlin is now a showcase of artwork that ranges from abstract psychedelia to high-end graffiti. Nothing much to say here other than it makes for a great stroll, and in my case a great introduction to this great city.
Checkpoint Charlie
Kind of disappointing and almost kitschy. While I'm sure it once served an important strategic mission, it now marks a very touristy area filled with souvenir shops, overpriced museum exhibitions, and bad restaurants. The checkpoint itself looks like a glorified tree-house with a Google Images printout of a solider on top. Still cool to see the "You are now leaving the American sector" sign in person.
German Jewish Museum
I knew to expect a different kind of museum experience here, because I had learned a little bit about architect Daniel Libeskind (currently leading the WTC reconstruction in NYC) in my Representations of Nazism class back at UF. Libeskind is known for using interpretive, postmodern styles in his work, and the Jewish Museum certainly fit the bill. For example, one room has a single point of natural light in the ceiling but the rest of the room is pitch black. Another area is filled with nothing but massive rectangular stone columns. My favorite part was a room where the "floor" is covered in individual metal face pieces that make a loud clink noise when you step. Libeskind also built "memory voids" throughout the museum: angular cut-outs of the wall that (from what I recall from class) represent the void of Jews during certain parts of German history. Beyond the more "artsy" parts, one of the floors of the museum looks more like a typical museum, with chronological exhibits on Jews throughout German history. The museum does a great job of telling its story through cultural artifacts rather than throw information at you. Unfortunately, one of those artifacts was a yarmulke emblazoned with the cast of Friends. That's a part of Jewish history better left forgotten...
Topography of Terror
After the Jewish Museum, it seemed logical to go learn more about how Nazi Germany built some serious voids into that museum. The Topography of Terror, unlike as the name implies, does not have to do with terrifying geographical features. It does sound like a good name for a horror movie, maybe with a monster made of dirt and rocks that salutes Hitler. Also, driving on tall cliffs can be kind of frightening. Alas, Topography of Terror is (at least on the surface) associated with none of that. It serves as a Holocaust documentation center, built on the site of the Gestapo and SS headquarters. It houses a VERY comprehensive collection of letters, pictures, maps, propaganda, etc. Outside of the documentation center itself, there is a trench filled with an exhibition describing the rise of Nazism. This is not the kind of place to casually visit in your lederhosen with a little time to German-efficiently waste; this place has a historian's eye (figuratively, not literally, as far as I know...) and challenges you to actually learn during your visit.
I knew to expect a different kind of museum experience here, because I had learned a little bit about architect Daniel Libeskind (currently leading the WTC reconstruction in NYC) in my Representations of Nazism class back at UF. Libeskind is known for using interpretive, postmodern styles in his work, and the Jewish Museum certainly fit the bill. For example, one room has a single point of natural light in the ceiling but the rest of the room is pitch black. Another area is filled with nothing but massive rectangular stone columns. My favorite part was a room where the "floor" is covered in individual metal face pieces that make a loud clink noise when you step. Libeskind also built "memory voids" throughout the museum: angular cut-outs of the wall that (from what I recall from class) represent the void of Jews during certain parts of German history. Beyond the more "artsy" parts, one of the floors of the museum looks more like a typical museum, with chronological exhibits on Jews throughout German history. The museum does a great job of telling its story through cultural artifacts rather than throw information at you. Unfortunately, one of those artifacts was a yarmulke emblazoned with the cast of Friends. That's a part of Jewish history better left forgotten...
Topography of Terror
After the Jewish Museum, it seemed logical to go learn more about how Nazi Germany built some serious voids into that museum. The Topography of Terror, unlike as the name implies, does not have to do with terrifying geographical features. It does sound like a good name for a horror movie, maybe with a monster made of dirt and rocks that salutes Hitler. Also, driving on tall cliffs can be kind of frightening. Alas, Topography of Terror is (at least on the surface) associated with none of that. It serves as a Holocaust documentation center, built on the site of the Gestapo and SS headquarters. It houses a VERY comprehensive collection of letters, pictures, maps, propaganda, etc. Outside of the documentation center itself, there is a trench filled with an exhibition describing the rise of Nazism. This is not the kind of place to casually visit in your lederhosen with a little time to German-efficiently waste; this place has a historian's eye (figuratively, not literally, as far as I know...) and challenges you to actually learn during your visit.
Holocaust Memorial
Changing the pace, I went over to the Holocaust Memorial site. This memorial took a page from the Libeskind approach and symbolized the Holocaust as 2700 concrete slabs of varying heights on a sloped area. I'm still not sure how I feel about it. It definitely has a cemetery vibe. It combines all of the not-having-to-read-words that I look for when perusing gigantic blocks, but at the same time it is supposed to make one think of mass murder. Instead, those giant slabs of concrete mostly made me think of other block-related things, like Tetris, Legos, and parental internet controls.
Reichstag
Didn't go in, but it is quite lovely on the outside! However, I did eat a delicious serving of street-food currywurst nearby...
Brandenburg Gate
I really enjoyed just standing under or near the Brandenburg Gate. It's so iconic that it really reminded me that I was in the middle of a special journey abroad and so fortunate to simply be there. Staring at Big Ben in London, the Eiffel Tower in Paris, or the Colosseum in Rome is probably the closest approximation to that feeling I'd had. Presidents Ronald Reagan and Barack Obama created iconic moments in history at the Gate, and Napoleon used it to march triumphantly into Berlin, and there I was standing at the same spot. It was even more amazing at night, since I ended up in Berlin during the Festival of Lights (not Hanukkah; so many Jewish references here, geez...). Projectors covered the Gate in fantastic designs, color combinations, and even animations. For those who know my obsession with psychedelic art/lighting (read: Electric Ladyland), you can understand how deep into heaven I was watching a major landmark transformed into a psychedelic spectacle.
The Victory Column
From Brandenburg Gate, one can see the Victory Column in the distance. I didn't accurately estimate quite how far of a distance it was - the walk took about half an hour. Other people must have thought the walk was overly long as well, since two of them ran into the bushes to pee right in front of me. Considering the police almost arrested my TA on the Munich study abroad trip for jaywalking, I don't even want to know what kind of inhumane punishment they'd dole out for public urination. Once I finally arrived, I climbed to the observation deck and got a great view of Berlin...being rained on.
Day 2
TV Tower
Started Day 2 by ascending the Berlin TV Tower. It stands at a whopping 1200 feet tall, or approximately the size of an average Dutch male. The observation deck allows you to get a full-circle view of Berlin from about half that height. To get up to the viewing sphere, you have to take an elevator. It ascends so quickly and so high that your ears pop. Worse, the elevator has a concierge inside, and he was telling jokes in German (note: jokes in German could be mistaken for someone yelling at you). I was the only English speaker on the elevator, so I awkwardly laughed along whenever everyone else did, with a slight delay to make it even more awkward. I ended up right next to him in the cramped elevator, so he also kept looking at me when he told said jokes like I was supposed to awkwardly respond to his awkward jokes, making everything awkward times awkward. Anyway, if you go, make sure to go on a sunny day, because you will see for miles. Unfortunately, I picked a cloudy day, so I had to settle for breathtaking views of fog and tall Germanic people shoving in front of me to closely examine said fogginess. Luckily, even with the fog, you could still see the main parts of Berlin.
Alexanderplatz
Right next to the TV Tower is Alexanderplatz, a main square with an interesting Neptune statue and weird people. There isn't much to say about it other than did I mention there were weird people there...For example, a homeless/homeless-looking guy came up to me asking if I wanted to go on a tour of Berlin. After walking another couple of yards ahead, I was accosted by a uniformed tour guide who would not take no for an answer, and eventually started trying to speak to me in German. A couple of yards beyond that, I was approached by a couple who asked me where Alexanderplatz is (we were standing in the middle of it). As I left the square, I came across a "map" of the area where someone had turned the TV Tower into a penis drawing; this was extra awkward because I happened to be eating an awkwardly-phallic currywurst sandwich for lunch. I decided to move on from the overall awkwardness by proceeding to the nearby DDR Museum.
DDR Museum
Contrary to German folklore intended to scare children into obeying authority figures, the DDR Museum does not serve as a showcase of the history of video game pads with arrows used to imitate exercise masquerading as dancing to techno music. Rather, the DDR Museum explored the history of the Deutsche Demokratische Republik/East Germany and ended up being one of my favorite parts of the Berlin trip. Like the Jewish History Museum, it tells the story of East Germany primarily through cultural artifacts, such as a full-size Trabant (East German-produced car), school supplies, pantry items, consumer goods, and recreations of a typical East German home and jail cell. One odd bit of trivia I learned is that nudism was a massive craze that swept the nation. Take that, capitalism!
Museum Island/German History Museum
Museum Island in Berlin is actually designated a UNESCO World Heritage Site. I don't quite understand why, but it does house an impressive amount of museums in a small area. There are a number of art, historical, and archaeological museums, but the only one that looked really interesting to me was the German History Museum. I should've taken a moment to consider the subject matter. German + History + Museum = HOLY CRAP HOW MANY LIFETIMES DO YOU HAVE TO DIGEST ALL OF THIS HISTORY?! I spent almost 5 hours at the museum, and that was at a brisk pace. I only left because I looked at my watch and it said the year was 2457, so I should probably see how far humanity has advanced while I learned the vast history of a single country which might not even exist as an individual entity at this point, having succumbed to a trend of centralization resulting in the collapse of the Westphalian system. However, considering all of the conquering, warmongering, genocidal rampaging, cultural milestones, artistic achievements, intellectual advancements, yada yada yada that Germany has experienced, this museum deserves to be massive. I'm not even sure how to describe the museum, so I'll try it in Doge meme form: Wow. Such museum. Very objects. Many history. Wow.
Museum Island in Berlin is actually designated a UNESCO World Heritage Site. I don't quite understand why, but it does house an impressive amount of museums in a small area. There are a number of art, historical, and archaeological museums, but the only one that looked really interesting to me was the German History Museum. I should've taken a moment to consider the subject matter. German + History + Museum = HOLY CRAP HOW MANY LIFETIMES DO YOU HAVE TO DIGEST ALL OF THIS HISTORY?! I spent almost 5 hours at the museum, and that was at a brisk pace. I only left because I looked at my watch and it said the year was 2457, so I should probably see how far humanity has advanced while I learned the vast history of a single country which might not even exist as an individual entity at this point, having succumbed to a trend of centralization resulting in the collapse of the Westphalian system. However, considering all of the conquering, warmongering, genocidal rampaging, cultural milestones, artistic achievements, intellectual advancements, yada yada yada that Germany has experienced, this museum deserves to be massive. I'm not even sure how to describe the museum, so I'll try it in Doge meme form: Wow. Such museum. Very objects. Many history. Wow.
Fuhrerbunker
My last stop of Day 2 was the Fuhrerbunker, or what is left, by which I mean it not being there at all. The place is extremely difficult to find, because Germany wanted it to be that way (didn't want the spot to become some sort of Neo-Nazi shrine). Far from the images of the reconstructed bunker seen in the movie Downfall, the Fuhrerbunker is now a nondescript residential housing complex. An explanatory sign near the entrance to a parking lot acts as the only marker of the historical importance of a bunch of apartments. Kind of poetic justice for the center of the Nazi regime to now be so unassuming. I wonder if there are any Jews living there; maybe we could trade bags of gold or discuss our secret control of the bank- I mean celebration of Hanukkah.
Day 3
Berliner Unterwelten
This was probably my favorite part of the Berlin trip aside from the Festival of Lights. Berliner Unterwelten is a company that gives tours of lesser-known historically-interesting sights. They offer tours of a bombed-out flak tower, Cold War civil defense shelters, and WWII air raid shelter, among others. I decided to take the WWII air raid shelter tour. Unfortunately you're not allowed to take photos, so I'll try to describe it as best I can. The shelter is actually built into the metro system, with the entrance to the bunker being an unidentifiable door at one of the metro stops. I was a little concerned when one of the first things the tour guide said when we entered was "If you feel like you want to faint, please tell me ahead of time." Even the thought of fainting makes me want to faint - must resist his German mind games! As we progressed through the labyrinthine tunnels, the guide would tell us titillating tidbits about what happened when bombing raids occurred, how people went to the bathroom, how they kept themselves busy, how they tried their best not to die from lack of oxygen due to the absence of ventilation and presence of thousands of oxygen-breathing humans...you know, the little things. My favorite part of my basically-favorite part of the Berlin trip was the glow-in-the-dark room. Planning on the lights not functioning during an air raid, the Nazis decided to paint the walls with a highly-toxic luminescent paint. In a blackout, the paint would make the entire room light up and direct people where to exit the bunker. Aside from the tour around the structure itself, some rooms contain historical artifacts like Nazi uniforms or board games to keep the kids occupied from their near-certain death from suffocation or being blown up. The tour even incorporates some history on the metro system itself, which was a nice added bonus. In sum: I highly recommend taking one of the tours if you go to Berlin.
KaDeWe
My last visit in Berlin was to KaDeWe, the Berlin equivalent of Harrod's in London. Like Harrod's, KaDeWe has everything from luxury items to unique foods. What particularly piqued my interest was a slice of pistachio pie/cake/tort/whatever. Aside from just browsing the vast collection of things I had no intention of buying, I had an "entertaining" experience while eating dinner (another currywurst sandwich with a Hofbrauhaus beer). Quick summary, as stated on Facebook: A random German guy walked up to me to tell me for 10 minutes in broken English that I have extremely white teeth. Broken English is my nice way of saying he spoke maybe two nonsensical words in English and then rapid-fired German sentences at me. Essentially, he pointed at his teeth, then at my mouth, and said something like "so white." In retrospect, maybe he was trying to communicate something racially derogatory, or a secret code to activate my Manchurian Candidate mode. At some point, he asked an American couple sitting at the table next to me to examine my teeth. He kept awkwardly referring to me as "she," as in variations of "she has white teeth," which solidified in my mind the general level of awkwardness I noticed amongst the people of Berlin. When the guy left, one of the Americans said "I think he was hitting on you." I can't help but love you, awkward Berlin.
This blog has three more posts to go: 1) Barcelona, 2) probably a single post detailing my trips to Antwerp, Delft, and Den Haag, and 3) a summation piece where I intend to give an overall assessment of the exchange program experience.
Today's Dutch lesson: onhandig (awkward).
My last visit in Berlin was to KaDeWe, the Berlin equivalent of Harrod's in London. Like Harrod's, KaDeWe has everything from luxury items to unique foods. What particularly piqued my interest was a slice of pistachio pie/cake/tort/whatever. Aside from just browsing the vast collection of things I had no intention of buying, I had an "entertaining" experience while eating dinner (another currywurst sandwich with a Hofbrauhaus beer). Quick summary, as stated on Facebook: A random German guy walked up to me to tell me for 10 minutes in broken English that I have extremely white teeth. Broken English is my nice way of saying he spoke maybe two nonsensical words in English and then rapid-fired German sentences at me. Essentially, he pointed at his teeth, then at my mouth, and said something like "so white." In retrospect, maybe he was trying to communicate something racially derogatory, or a secret code to activate my Manchurian Candidate mode. At some point, he asked an American couple sitting at the table next to me to examine my teeth. He kept awkwardly referring to me as "she," as in variations of "she has white teeth," which solidified in my mind the general level of awkwardness I noticed amongst the people of Berlin. When the guy left, one of the Americans said "I think he was hitting on you." I can't help but love you, awkward Berlin.
This blog has three more posts to go: 1) Barcelona, 2) probably a single post detailing my trips to Antwerp, Delft, and Den Haag, and 3) a summation piece where I intend to give an overall assessment of the exchange program experience.
Today's Dutch lesson: onhandig (awkward).
