Crossing the Wall

Ah Berlin.

I wish I would have had more time in Berlin.

Once again I booked a hostel for two nights.  Mostly because both days I was in Berlin I would be meeting up with different friends, and I thought it unfair to request a host and not spend any time with them.
I dropped my stuff at the hostel, and raced back to the train station to meet Diahann.

Diahann was in the one class I had in Maastricht that actually had Dutch students in it.  Typically all the Erasmus students that didn't speak Dutch had their class together and spoke English.
But this was Advanced Cognitive Neuroscience, and we didn't have enough Erasmus students stupid enough to take such a course.  I was told it was the hardest course offered in the Faculty of Neuroscience/Psychology.

I would be surprised if there was a tougher undergraduate course.

I don't think I've ever studied that intensely for a course.  I'd never had a biologically based psychology course before then, which already set me behind.  The one class I skipped for traveling turned out to be about the basal ganglia.  Arguably the most ridiculously complicated brain system.  Everyone hated that lesson.  When talking with previous classmates, we still joke about the basal ganglia.

Anyways,  Diahann  isn't exactly Dutch.  She's from Curacao, a former Dutch colony. (part of the ABC islands, along with Aruba and Bon Aire) So she spoke Dutch and English, along with her native language Papiamentu (I think).

I will never get sick of reunions from Maastricht.

We picked back up right where we left off.

With a bottle of champagne and some cheap beers.

One of the things I like about Germany, is how integrated alcohol is in the culture.  Its treated as any other food or drink, not like in the States where I think we treat alcohol like a dangerous object that must be restricted and controlled because the people can't handle such a volatile substance. 

We popped the champagne right in front of the train station and headed towards Parliament (Reichstag) , passing it back and forth as we crossed busy streets.

At the Parliament building has a beautiful glass globe that visitors can enter, provided that they submit their passports several days in advance for screening.  So I made do with ogling from afar.

Down a main pedestrian street (flanked by automobile lanes), we passed under the famous Brandenburg Gate.  The gate used to be one of several entry points into the city, but now just stands as an archway.  Napoleon had stolen the statue of the horse drawn chariot on top, but it was later returned to its proper place.  The Brandenburg gate played a big part in the fall of the Berlin wall, as it was on the border of eastern and western Germany.  Typically the gate was closed to citizens of the communist east side, unless they somehow managed to obtain the extremely rare visa.  Once protests began to form on the west side, the gate was closed completely.  Many easterners died attempting to cross the wall, and Berlin honors them once a year at the anniversary of the fall. In speeches given by both Kennedy and Reagan, they refer to the opening of the Brandenburg Gate as the symbolic fall of the wall.  The actual fall of the physical wall is considered to have occurred on November 9th 1989.

I can remember the toaster we had when I was a kid said "Made in W. Germany".

Shortly after we crossed under the Brandenburg gate, we ran out of champagne.  All we had were a few beers and no bottle opener.

No matter.  I showed  Diahann  how we do it in 'murica.  By slamming it on the side of a trashcan as to "brush" off the cap.




Where more appropriate to finish one's beer, than the lawn of Berliner Dom.  A.k.a. the Berlin Cathedral.  Quite an impressive specimen of a cathedral I will say.  Modern Berlin is sometimes referred to as the "Atheist Capital of the World".  Over 60% of the city's inhabitants claim no religious affiliation.  Nonetheless, there is a wide range of religions represented in Berlin, including Protestand, Roman Catholic, Muslim, and even Jewish.

Speaking of which, when asked what I wanted to see in Berlin, I had only one request for  Diahann .

Please, for the love of cheese, no more holocaust history.

In no way did I want to ignore the ugly parts of history, but I also didn't want all my experiences of Germany to be anchored to 1940's flashbacks.  I gave my moments of silence in Auschwitz and Birkenau.  Now show me what Berlin has grown into since then.

Diahann sighed in relief at this request.

Time for another beer.

This was a slightly less successful bottle-opening, as the concrete actually shattered the top of the bottle, rather than grazing off the cap.

But we were beyond caring at this point.

Next stop was the Wall.

Or rather what was left of the Wall.  The sliver of masonry was rather disappointing.  But in retrospect, I don't see how I logically could have expected anything more.  I dutifully chewed a fresh piece of bubblegum and stuck it to the disgusting collage before me.  Why? That's just what you do, so  Diahann  informed me.

That night we ended up at the Sony Center, a sort of shopping area in a huge enclosed courtyard.  There we had dinner, including spaetzle.  Spaetzle literally means little sparrow, and is a thicker egg noodle with a mushier texture.  Don't let mushy discourage you though.  It was pretty tasty, even in a simple butter sauce.  Afterwards we caught a showing of The Avengers, which to my relief, was not dubbed.  We then said our goodbyes, and I returned to my hostel (where I shared a room with 11 other coed occupants).

The coed nature of the hostel room made for an interesting morning.  Luckily I was up early enough that most of the males were still drooling on their pillows, as opposed to being alert and aware of my outfit changing.

I could have cared less though.  Nothing was going to rain on my parade today.  Because today, I was meeting up with Carla.

Carla was in all but one of my Maastricht classes (all except the Neuroscience one).  We'd save each other seats in the lecture hall, where she would make sure I stayed awake for the actual lecture.  She'd lend me lunch money when my stupid American cards refused to work in the machines.  The bulk of our time together existed over two lit cigarettes and two cups of Douwe Egberts coffee.  Where I think we actually started becoming friends, sprouted from a mutual dislike that occurred in our Body and Behavior class.

There were exactly five of us students in that class. There was Carla, Oliwia (whom you'll hear about later), Karolina (who will also be mentioned later), and a less than agreeable blonde who shall remain unnamed.  The less than agreeable blonde happened to be from Germany as well.  She also happened to think that she was the fountain of all knowledge and an expert on everything.  An air she carried out in the most contemptible way.  The blonde had a habit of rudely correcting Carla's English and being extra critical of her fellow countrywoman.

So I made it a habit of correcting the blonde's English.  Quite extensively, as there was ample opportunity to do so.  Guessing by the looks from our tutor (who was also German, but with quite perfect English), he also found this deserving and amusing.

Anyways.

Back to Berliner Hauptbahnhof I went.  I was ever so excited to finally see Carla again, and the two of us just decided to take the day easy.  She had a mission for some new shoes, and I could have cared less what the agenda was.  Most of the day was spent talking and catching up.  Carla had since graduated from her German university and gotten a big girl job.  Though perhaps not the job she wanted.  From what I understood, her job included distributing welfare checks and making sure the recipients were actually in need of  said checks.  Apparently the job was quite a roller coaster of satisfied and dissatisfied people.  As one could imagine.  The most surprising news, I thought, was that her new boyfriend is actually from New Jersey.  He speaks German, the language they most often communicate in.  However, Carla mentioned that she had him speak English to her a few days before I arrived, just so she could get back into practice.  I'm quite familiar with the sensation of losing your grasp on a language over time (Exhibit A: French).  I will say though, Carla's English is much better than she gives herself credit for, and I also give her partial responsibility for German-English being one of my favorite flavors of my language.

It was a successful day of shoe shopping, even though Carla starting feeling a bit ill towards the end.  It wasn't pleasant saying goodbye to her again. I'd really missed her sharp wit and sense of humor.  Never did I imagine I would make such strong connections with people I only spent 4 months with.  Then again, this trip has shocked me even more with the strong connections I have made over just a few days.

Every day makes it harder and harder to leave, even though I have an entire month left.

Next stop: Maastricht

My second home.

Danke Shoen Berlin,
Tegs