“The history of our time is written in the life of Berlin.”

Somewhat frightening that I don’t think I could have said it better myself.

Today in class we had a discussion on what we’d done for the weekend and a discussion popped up on the relevance of The Wall and whether it will matter or not in 200 years. This class is actually an interesting group in that we range in age from 19-37. We have very different perspectives on world history, and two of the younger ones had no real memory of the Wall. I feel strongly that it will matter because the value in a united Europe via the EU (whether we’re talking about those currently in the Schengen area, the 27 current members or how the EU continues to evolve doesn’t matter) is lost if one doesn’t know/remember the fact that less than 20 years ago, freedom to travel was severely restricted.

While I know that history and time change people’s memories, I can’t imagine the legacy of communism fading. It already is though, one example being people’s reactions to Goodbye Lenin! I think you really have to remember a divided Berlin in order to ‘get’ the movie. I’m a history geek, I ‘get’ it (or suppose I would if I’d seen the movie), but I know not everyone sees things the same way. As a part of the class discussion we were talking about preservation v. moving on in the context of The Wall, 9/11 and even the Oklahoma City Bombing. That’s a subject for another post or five though.

Daniel Coats, the U.S. Ambassador to Germany hit on a lot of what I’ve been thinking since I first saw the Wall from the bus on Saturday afternoon:

That is why the lessons of the past are still so vitally important for our future and the future of our children. The Wall, the most prominent symbol of the Cold War and the division of Germany and Europe, has been torn down but it cannot be relegated to the past.

As a newcomer to Berlin, I myself often wonder where the Wall was exactly. Today it is hard to imagine the course of that gray concrete barrier and strip of barren no man’s land that once snaked its way 23 miles through the streets of one of Europe’s proudest cities.

When I was first at Brandenburg Gate, I completely missed the cobblestone path that marks the former path of the wall. It’s more visible on the steps to the Spree, but I wouldn’t say it’s hard to miss. As you draw closer to the Spree, it’s even marked with something I see as similar to a tombstone:

Here lies The Wall? But is it buried? Should it be?

It’s impossible to judge, as an outsider, what people should do with their own city. This is true especially since the people of Berlin had no say in it in the first place: their fate was controlled by the governing powers who ruled the city. In a sense, Berlin and Germany had lost their sovereignty following the defeat in WW II.

Pieces of the wall are still being removed, even officially. Yet the government felt that it had to be done as a “secretly engineered operation”, certainly that wouldn’t be the case if it were done with everyone’s best interests in mind. Even if it was something that was a governmental decision with no input from the public, it needn’t be done in secret. I don’t think anyone is claiming that the Wall needs to remain in its entirety, but I think the sections that have remained for 17 years should continue to serve as an education for locals and visitors.

Another area where this rears its head is in the context of ostalgia, which is a very real feeling among some people in Germany. Ampelmannchen are probably the most visible sign of Ostalgia, right down to a shop dedicated to them in Hackeschen Hofe. The author goes into much further detail about Ostalgia and its role in Berlin today but what struck me was the correlation to the author’s thoughts in Cafe Europa. In Cafe Europa she was speaking of the election of communist leaders in Romania and Serbia following the fall of Communism and the fact that it was what people knew, what they felt safe with. While traffic signals aren’t the same as a political leader, I think the roots are similar. People in East Germany grew up with the traffic signals. They lost so much in the political turmoil of the 80s and 90s that they wanted to cling to something familiar. At least that was how I understood it.

At the same time, I don’t think I can ever understand it. This was something else that Ute and I touched on. As someone born in America, I have no direct experience with communism. I read about it, I studied it, but it was always something that existed ‘over there’. It wasn’t a part of my world. While we were walking, Ute mentioned a discussion at university where she mentioned the falling of the Wall didn’t change her world drastically – the next day, for her in West Germany, nothing had changed in her day to day life. That struck me because learning about it, I’d always imagined the fall of the Wall was huge for Germans. I think I got a lot more out of Berlin visiting it with a German than I would have doing it alone, so thank you for that, Ute. Plus it was just great to see you again

On a lighter note, there was someone with the t-shirt that read “US Leaders on Berlin” – it included Reagan’s “Mr. Gorbachev, tear down this wall!”, Bush Sr.’s “Hundreds of Berliners from East and West, standing atop the Wall, with chisels and hammers” and of course JFK’s “Ich bin ein Berliner” whether or not he actually called himself a doughnut. I so wish I’d gotten a photo.

156 photos taken, 19 posted.

This weekend’s trip to Berlin is one that’s going to stick with me for some time to come. I really felt like I was walking through history, albeit a mostly unknown history.

Friday night I was up in our lounge where I found a copy of an old edition of Time Out Berlin. I took it with me and although I didn’t read much of it – I’d gone to bed at 2 AM and the insides of my eyelids were pretty – it was an interesting overview of the city and its history. As I explained to Ute when we met up, the German history that’s taught in US schools consists of 20th century “Germany is evil”, so I had very little idea of what else Berlin and Germany was about.

But backtracking a bit… Train left Praha Hlavni Nadrazi at 8:15. First thoughts: yes! Deutsche Bahn train! Although Ute has explained to be that there can be lesser quality Deutsche Bahn trains, as a whole they’re a better quality than those operated by Ceske Drahy (aka Czech Railways). I’m pathetically excited that it looks like next Saturday’s train is Deutsche Bahn too I stayed awake long enough for the ticket checkers to come through, was woken at the border(s) and then basically slept the rest of the way to Berlin. I woke long enough to peer sleepily at Dresden, a city I’d never have heard of if not for Billy Pilgrim.

Berlin Hauptbahnhof reminded me a lot of Kyoto Station or Kansai Airport. Oddly futuristic in its construction but still visually appealing. I found it a bit difficult to navigate, not because of the language but rather its sheer size and signs that don’t differentiate between train and tourist information points. I finally found the Berlin Info store I was looking for and got the city circle tour tickets.

I’ve been fairly grumbly about tours in class-I *hate* guided tours-but these are different. I like the hop on/off because it gives an overview and then I can hop off and see what I want without someone in my ear telling me what I should be seeing and not let me think. I had a laugh with this tape recording. At one point it was talking about the ‘recent reunification’ and I thought ‘well, Berlin is 750+ years old so 1990 is quite recent in those terms’ until they talked about the parliament ‘someday’ moving back to Berlin. Nope, the tape for the English tour is just _that_ old. I laughed and then enjoyed the sights.

I got off at Checkpoint Charlie because I was so curious about it. There is the famous sign as well but the area itself doesn’t really have a historical feel. I think that’s partially due to changes like this and to a lesser degree, this. It’s not that I expect a city never to change and to stay frozen in time, but I think it should retain some of the feel as to (part of) why it’s famous. The museum was a lot better, but I didn’t do that until Sunday so more on that later. I did enjoy the ‘wall’ exhibit on the street, but felt that I couldn’t imagine this touristy area being the site of Soviet/American standoff and I am (barely) old enough to remember The Wall.

After that it was back on the bus to Brandenburger Tor aka the Brandenburg Gate. [NOTE: I realized that I forgot to mention I was using Ute's two posts from her March trip to Berlin as a sort of 'tour guide' as they were part of the reason why I wanted to go to Berlin]. The gate is what I’d consider to be one of the symbols of the city-made amusing by the fact that I couldn’t recognise it on the back of the Euro at dinner, but that’s another story o:). I didn’t have a lot of time there as I needed to get back to the station to meet Ute, and I wasn’t entirely sure how to get there.

I made it, and because I had some time to kill before our 6pm meeting, I stopped to look at some of the Sandsation Sculptures. They were nothing short of amazing, but I fear for their longevity in the next six weeks. I’d no sooner arrived at our meetig point when I heard a voice behind me ‘Welcome to Berlin’. It was so good to see Ute again nearly one year after one of our last get-togethers. (Note to self, must find that shirt-I loved it). We walked along the Spree to dinner at a restaurant where Ute had eaten before. Lots of interesting signs and history inside. I was brave, I had a sausage curry which was quite good.

After dinner we walked back toward the station along the river stopping to take this photo. It kind of goes along with my earlier sentiments, I can’t picture the wall there but I was standing in East and West Berlin. The Reichstag is behind me and because it was so nice out and the line was <30 min, we decided to go up. We did go all the way up the dome, but this photo, from the lower level, is one of my favourites. I also love how the flag is framed. The view from the top was beautiful and it gave me a good vanage point of the city I’d seen from ground level. I think history started to hit me here, German history usually started at school with the burning of the Reichstag so it was an odd feeling to be standing atop it. It was also refreshingly easy to access, with only a metal detector at the entrance.

After the Reichstag, it was time for two very tired people to go back to Ute’s apartment…

The next morning it was off to the Museum at Checkpoint Charlie. I learned so much from the Museum that I’m not sure where to start. I assumed that the museum’s origins would be in 1990 but rather they went back ~30 years to 1962 when it was started by Rainer Hildebrandt. I think the Wall and my thoughts on Berlin are going to be another post, they require too much processing. This museum really made me stop and think, there is so much more to the Wall than what we learn in history. And yes, Ute and I had a giggle when we ran into the obligatory loud (American) tour guide. I felt better when Ute said Germans abroad are just as bad, but this woman was LOUD.

From the Museum, it was off to the East Side Gallery, which I hadn’t heard of before the last month. The photo above is one of the paintings from the Wall and it’s wonderful to see the Wall serving a new function and educating new generations. It’s sad that it’s being defaced, and I wonder if the graffiti is part of the reason we missed the famed Brezhnev-Honecker kiss, since it has clearly deteriorated. As I mentioned abov, it’s hard to picture the wall near Brandenburg Gate, but I also didn’t realize part of it was still standing. I think it needs to remain. I don’t think visitors can understand Berlin without the Wall.

By this point, our feet were hungry and our stomachs tired. Or something like that Ute knew of a place that sold spaghetti ice cream, and I was intrigued. It was delicious! The cafe’s menu offered “Vitamin Spaghetti” and this was a vitamin I’d like to have more often. We still have ~3 hours before my train so we went to Hackesche Hofe where I was able to get a great photo of Berlin’s walk signals and some more understanding of the Ampelmannchen issue, which Ute had mentioned as a great idea for a blog post. It (and other Ostalgia mentions) actually made me think of some of the ideas put forward in Cafe Europa, but I think I need to stew on that for a bit longer.

We still had some time before the train and decided to go to see the Berliner Dom. I’ve seen a fair few churches this week, but this one was absolutely gorgeous. It was something to sit in the pews and think about the damage that the Cathedral sustained in WWII. To imagine sitting there then. We walked around and, in one of the small chapels, I lit a candle. Happy Father’s Day, Dad. Hit with a burst of inspiration (or insanity!) we decided to climb the 250+ stairs to the top of the dome and were rewarded with a gorgeous view over the city. It was a great last thing to do before heading back to the station and eventually, to Prague….

More on Berlin when I’ve ‘digested’ it more. In the mean time, here is Ute’s post on Day 1.

~International Coalition of Historic Site Museums of Conscience

Well that sign on the walls of the “Small Fortress in Terezin was to be my only photo from the day, however it’s a devil to make a yellow text on blue sign photo legible. It’s not that I didn’t take any photos, I did. 26 to be precise, but I’m not happy with them. I’m a little unsettled about the whole Terezin experience, to be honest.

Some of it is left over feelings of unsettledness about Auschwitz this weekend, but some of it is completely different. In many ways, Terezin/Theresienstadt is completely different. I think this stems from the fact that Terezin was in use as a fortress/prison long before the Nazis. Unlike Oswiecim and other sites which might not be on world maps if not for WW II and the Holocaust, Terezin had a pre-existing place in Czech history. I think it’s safe to say though that the international interest stems from World War II when the small fortress became a Gestapo headquarters.

On a non-WW II basis, I was very intrigued. We were able to visit the cell in the small fortress where Gavrilo Princip, the assassin of Archduke Francis Ferdinand, was housed. One thing I have learned about the Czech Republic in my time here is how central the Czech Republic (in its various incarnations as Czechoslovakia, Bohemia and Moravia, etc.) has been to European history. Its role (along with battles here such as White Mountain) is certainly not something that comes up frequently in history classes in the US. Seeing the “Small Fortress” itself brought back memories of the Alamo, though I have no idea why.

Our tour actually started in the Ghetto Museum and then the Magdeburg Barracks. I admit, I’d mentally checked out of some of this. I found it heartwrenching to see the artwork, music, writings, etc of people who never made it out, especially children. I did buy the book relating to Hana’s Suitcase, but that was more for its Czech/Japanese tie than anything else. Both the Museum and Barracks were museums and not really reconstructions of any sort.

From there, the tour moved to the National Cemetery and Small Fortress. The National Cemetery is intriguing in that its allegedly one of the few places in the world where you can see a cross and Star of David side by side. When compared to Auschwitz/Birkenau, the reason Terezin bothered me was primarily superficial: there were food sales, souvenir shops and other current items within the grounds. To me, those belong outside a historic site. The cinema can be explained, it’s apparently where the SS guards would watch their movies, and the pool was built by the prisoners in preparation for the Red Cross visit in 1944, but there is no need for a souvenir shop and cafe within the grounds. Put them outside the gate, but they didn’t ask me. I’m sure there was some good reason, but the guide didn’t know.

So basically Terezin is a good place to learn about Czech history, and if you haven’t done anothr Holocaust site such as Auschwitz/Dachau (as a classmate said)/etc. it’s a good place to learn about the Holocaust.

I think where I’m still ‘unsettled’ re: Auschwitz (meaning the Auschwitz section of the camps not the whole compound) is the fact that apart from the famous sign, you could be anywhere. Even the barbed wire doesn’t ‘say’ Holocaust. The exhibits do, of course, however the exhibits aren’t that different from Holocaust exhibits elsewhere. That isn’t to say they’re not good, just that there’s no differentiation. Why do people go to Auschwitz? I personally think a big part of it is name association. In many cases, you say Holocaust and people think Auschwitz. I’d love to look further into the stats of who goes and why.

As for Terezin, the same question of ‘why’ applies. It doesn’t have the name association that Auschwitz does. It is however significantly closer to Prague than Auschwitz/Birkenau is to Krakow, which helps. I wonder how many people are aware of Terezin, or that it’s in the Czech Republic before coming to the area? Do they plan to go or are they enticed by the Prague tour companies ‘selling’ it that well? I’d definitely be interested in that.

I think I have my paper topic for Culture & Heritage Tourism.

(+14)

Perhaps it’s morbid, but to me that is Birkenau. It’s not about a museum attempting to explain what happened, it’s just the camp. The buildings, such as the quarantine bunks, are as they were. It’s more telling than trying to explain what happened, it allows the visitor to see it. Above all, however, it’s a cemetery. Not just the fields or ponds of ashes, there’s the sense that it’s all hallowed ground.

Perhaps Rob Francosi said it best:

The camp is 425 acres, a mile by a mile-and-a-half, but this information offers little guidance. The Allendale campus is more than twice its size. No, it is Birkenau’s horizontal emptiness that makes it seem so much larger than it actually is. Only a few of its nearly 300 barracks still stand on the windswept and barbed-wire-enclosed plain, a field dotted with chimneys surviving like burned tree trunks after a sweeping fire. A space once crammed with 100,000 prisoners now stands deserted, except for small groups of mostly silent tourists.

The silence was what I preferred. Since I headed to Birkenau when it was getting crowded at Auschwitz, I had Birkenau primarily to myself. There were a few tour groups, but I escaped them by walking counter-clockwise through the compound. There were still plenty of signs to follow, and I could think. I’m very glad that I didn’t book a tour as I would have felt rushed and I didn’t want anyone else’s interpretation. I wanted to take it in and try to put it together on my own.

At the entrance to the camp there’s a sign that tries to explain what happened and the fact that it’s listed with UNESCO, but is it necessary. Presumably anyone who’s made the effort to travel to the camps, since they’re not particularly on the way to anywhere, knows what happened. I’d be satisfied with a sign that said something along the lines of “Respect…Learn.” Since above all, that’s what visitors need to do. Learn, in whatever means works best for you. I suppose that’s why it’s good they have the preserved aspects of Birkenau and the ‘tell the story’ aspects of Auschwitz, each might appeal to a different visitor.

I saw many people walking around with guidebooks, but I preferred to go without it. I’d have been lost without my map of the camps, but I didn’t want to read, I wanted to observe.

One of the areas that spoke the loudest was Median Road/Selection Road. This was a right turn off the ‘main road’ (where the tracks are) and you walked in the footsteps of those who were ‘selected.’ Those who were headed straight to the crematoria. It’s a little, but it really made me think. The road really was that empty. And eerily quiet. From there the remains of the camp’s buildings were clear. In an apparent attempt to cover up/hide their actions, the Nazis tried to destroy most of the camps before liberation. It was on this road (and also at the sauna, which I didn’t get a good photo of) where I really heard Elie Wiesel’s Night. Perhaps heard is the wrong word as I hadn’t yet read the book, but when I read the book later while waiting for the train, I was back in that spot.

Making a left turn at the end of the road, I headed back to the crematoria. You reach a fork: to the left, a pond. To the right, the remains of Crematorium V. Of course a pond is never just a pond. It’s also a cemetery. If it’s not enough that they burned and gased these people, but then they threw their remains in a pond. However I was pleased that this pond was alive: tadpoles, fish and frogs. It made me happy that there was a sign of life there, however the flowers that grew near the rail lines bothered me. Tamara said it well when I spoke to her this morning, “It’s almost how dare the flowers grow.” In Hiroshima and Nagasaki, two other examples of historical pilgrimages, people thought flowers wouldn’t grow, but they did. There it was a sign of new life, here it was just wrong, with one exception.

The exception was related to, but not at the site, of Crematorium V. The other flowers were at the site of Crematorium IV where the Sonderkommando revolted and destroyed it in October 1944. In that case, it seemed almost as if the flowers were saying, “Your death had a purpose.” As for how that was related to Crematorium V: the ‘tour guide’ there was a surviving Sonderkommando. Wow! It was one of the best tours I ever had the pleasure of eavesdropping on. Made me wish my German was better, but I got the gist of it. Some were really listening, but some clearly weren’t. That’s sad. A once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. They courteously didn’t mind my eavesdropping.

From Crematorium V, I veered left past the sauna and remains of Crematorium IV to the international monument to the victims, one of the only things to be added to the camp. The monument was simple, a sculpture with that plaque translated into many languages. From there, you could look down the length of the rail to the Death House, said to be the emblem of Birkenau. I disagree, to me the rails say more. That’s how they all came.

My train left from Praha – Hlavni Nadrazi at about 8:30 PM. I didn’t pay attention when choosing my carriage/section and ended up in a smoking one, but I was too lazy to move. I dozed on and off and after being woken by passport control, I decided to sit up and see who my cabin mates were since I was hearing a mix of Japanese/French and Czech. The cabins are more or less bench seating with an arm rest between two sets of two seats and my ‘benchmate’ was a drunk Polish man who, according to the French woman, wasn’t making much sense in any of the languages he was ‘speaking’. The French woman was a backpacker traveling through Eastern/Central Europe and her benchmate was a young Polish guy who had been studying in the Czech Republic. None of us was sure why the train was stopped so we did what was normal in that situation and shared our ‘rations’ – a mix of a candy bar, British Smarties (so so good!) and 7 Days Bake Rolls (Bacon Flavored). Despite the approximately one hour delay, which some attributed to border delays, we make it to Krakow at just shy of 6 AM only half an hour late.

I had forgotten how ‘interesting’ Czech Rail service can be. 2nd class is about 10 classes below the local trains in Japan. They also don’t announce stops, which could have proven interesting. When we left the train at Krakow, he young Polish man shook my hand and said, “Enjoy Krakow-my home.” Very nice.

The delay was fine since I knew the first bus/train to Ozwiecim didn’t leave until 7. So I found the ladies’ room, learned that you had to pay so went to the ATM to take out Zlotkys — currency overload seriously — freshened up and went in search of the bus depot. It was a local shuttle bus that look about an hour and a half and he dropped is at the gate. Wasn’t hard to guess where the three non-Polish people were going.

***

Coming back, the bus was slightly larger but took almost two hours to get back due to the weather. I’d offer some great insight about the polish scenery but it was foggy and I was wet. Not agood combination. I didn’t understand why it took two hours to go 50-60 km until I saw the roads. Poland may have upgraded itself a lot in the last 15 years, but it’s still lacking in some areas. The area around the bus and train stations I found to be very depressing, dirty… I wasn’t impressed with Krakow but I also realise I didn’t see the tourist sections. I thought about it if I’d gotten back earlier but wanted to spend the day at the camps and the weather didn’t lend itself to staying longer.

I had about 5.5 hours to kill before the train so I went to the Galeria Krakowska. Nope, not an art gallery but the ubiquitous galleria. It really was rather like any mall, anywhere. Sephora, Aldo, Zara, MaxMara, Esprit…What enticed me was the food court. I didn’t want to think to eat, I just wanted food so I went with the staple of Subway. Sat in the food court and read “Night” (review here). I’d never read it before and was just…Wowed. I think the fact that when he mentioned locations in Birkenau I could think “I was just there…”. At about 9 I headed to the Albert to get some stuff for the train and headed back to the station.

Met a couple of people also waiting for the train but they had a sleeping car reservation. I ended up with my own cabin for most of the ride and I slept a good chunk of it. Czech border guard was amused that I was never stamped out by the Polish guards. He stamped just under my first ‘inbound’ Czech stamp from 2003.What struck me was that inbound at Ruzyne they use the standard EU stamp but by rail they still use the old one. Stamp/Visa Count:45. I really need to get the expansion pages before Australia because I am going to run out of room.

Got back to Prague this morning and was at the apartment by 7:45. Shower done and I need to do laundry. Look for pics and the write ups later today.