Berlin was fantastic. I won’t do a day-by-day rundown of events like I did for Moscow for two reasons; one, I probably couldn’t if I tried at this point, and two, we didn’t actually do nearly as much because it was so terribly and wonderfully relaxing to be out of Russia. Don’t get me wrong, there are many great things about Russia, but if nothing else Berlin was simply more familiar. Additionally, being without the stress of feeling like you should be able to speak the language and struggling horribly was wonderful. For once, we were actually tourists!
First, let’s start with the basics. I went to Berlin with two of my friends from the AIFS program, named Brandon and Will respectively. We stayed with an old friend of my dad’s from high school, Tom, who was incredibly gracious about sharing his apartment with three college students for nearly a week. Tom outdid himself to surpass the requirements of hospitality, showing us all around the city, recommending destinations, essentially making sure that we had a fantastic time.
Before I write about Berlin, I just have to say; it was incredibly strange to be able to drink tap water. Every time I did it, I had a moment’s hesitation, worrying about whether or not it was safe. Will, Brandon and I endlessly enjoyed this simple pleasure; water straight from the tap, and tasty too. That was the first thing that really struck me as an indication of being a different country. Drinkable water is a stunning thing.
So, Berlin. First, as to the title of this post- Berlin has an incredible system of bike paths that follow all the (major?) roads, and which often run at the same level of the pavements. Due to this, people can and do bike everywhere, and it is actually necessary to look out for the bikes. They have the right of way on the bike paths, and god help any pedestrian who gets in their way. I myself had to jump out of the way more than once, with a biker bearing down on me like some sort of demon rider.
Perhaps needless to say, their public transportation system is also top-notch.
Bikes are only part of the reason why Berlin is so awesome. Not only am I an avid cyclist, but also an avid recyclist (if such a word exists, which Microsoft Word is informing me that it doesn’t). And oh, Berlin is a recyclist’s haven. They not only recycle, they separate wet and dry, colored and clear glass, and possibly colored and white paper. Actually, I believe that there were other bins as well, but the plethora of responsible recycling had left me bewildered and unable to comprehend the intricacies of such a complex and wonderful system. They even reuse the cups that coffee is served in on the street; you pay a one Euro deposit on the sturdy plastic cup, and get it back when the cup is returned. That’s just impressive.
Additionally, Berlin, in a way that reminded me of London, is a masterpiece of the successful combination and simultaneous existence of old and new architecture. Due to the massive destruction of Berlin following the Second World War, in many parts of the city there are nearly exclusively new buildings, but some older ones survive and the integration is nearly seamless.
Berlin was colorful. The marquees of shops were colorful, people seemed to wear more colors, there was simply color more places, and brighter. It actually was a feast for my almost stunned eyes, a surprise similar to that of drinkable water. Both, things that you don’t realize you miss until you have them back, and then you appreciate them even more.
The food was fantastic, especially the vast selection and availability of international cuisines. There was Thai, Indian, Mediterranean, Japanese, more Turkish than you could ever eat. I hadn’t seen a kebab since New Zealand, and there they were! I ate the best falafel of my life at a small Turkish restaurant maybe two blocks from Tom’s house. In Russia, as far as I can tell, non-eastern European cuisines don’t really take root and stay. They come in phases (right now Japanese, especially sushi, is very popular), but they don’t necessarily stick, and they don’t breed. Of course, Germany is a richer country, and people eat out more.
The theater is wide-spread, sometimes in English, and by all respects extremely respectable. I only attended a single show while there, but from what I could(n’t) understand besides the German, the acting was good, the singing charming and the art direction impeccable. These are all very good things. The art scene, generally, seems to be extremely alive and well. At one point we found ourselves wandering in an old, graffiti-covered shell of a building that according to Tom housed artists during the split-city years that smelled like punk rock. In the bottom and around the back of the building was specialist shops that current-day artists had set up, setting and showing their wares, and it was pretty brilliant. Besides theater, there are all sorts of events, shows, concerts every day of the week as far as I can tell, all listed in a handy Berliner city guide called ‘the Tip’. These people are brilliant.
Mainly, we did a lot of walking (like, really a lot) and a lot of relaxing, visited the impressive Holocaust monument that consists of metal blocks that from the side look like they’re only perhaps waist-high, but which in fact form a maze that one can get lost in, and probably do. The oppressive, claustrophobic and lost feeling that being inside the maze invokes is sobering and completely appropriate. The boys left a day early to visit Latvia on the way back, and that Saturday I went biking around the city to flea markets, chaperoned by Tom and his lovely daughter Pia, and became utterly convinced that biking is THE way to get around and see Berlin.
In addition, the season was glorious. While fall was diminishing rapidly in Russia, in Germany it was still in full swing. By chance, we chose the week where they were putting on the Festival of Lights, in which parts of the city were lit up specially by colored lights, some in patterns (like the laser show playing on the Berliner Dom, rearranging at regular intervals in abstract patterns on one of its sides, while the other side was covered with a modern crossed with Victorian floral black, red and white pattern), others constantly.
Of all the parts of the city that we visited, the one where Tom lives was probably my favorite. One of the coolest and most random things about it was the dispenser machines mounted randomly through the neighborhood, a great use for Euro coins and to get randomly colored rings. The are was pparently the old artists’ hang-out and is still a perfect destination for anyone who likes cheap food, second-hand goods, zany stores…. Did I mention that I’m considering moving to Berlin after graduating from high school? Maybe for just a year or two, and after all I don’t speak German, but that should attest to its impression on me as a wonderful place.
Of course, I’m tempted to think that maybe some of the reasons that Berlin appeared so fantastic was simply that it was everything that Russia was not; or rather had everything that I feel an absence of in Russia. Bikes, recycling, bright colors, smiles, theater in English, drinkable water.
Next Time: A thoughtful reflection on the differences between Germany and Russia, and what makes that so (or, more likely, more rambling)
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