Berlin in February - My Story

I am told by friends who are based in Berlin that February isn't really the best time of year to visit. But as I was doing just that, I'll have to take their word for it, because really, Berlin in February wasn't all that bad.

Yes, it was cold. It was ice-y, slushy and snowy, but it was still very pretty.

I was in town for a few days to check out a university I'd been eyeing for a year, and having done my undergrad on the outskirts of a major city, I knew the importance of location, location, location. And so, between meeting the admissions officer and touring the campus, I took time to absorb the city.

For any student of History, Political Science or International Affairs (of which I was the latter), the chance to visit the city that dominated the pages of textbooks and dictated most classroom discussions, it was exhilarating to say the least. Having devoured the most all of children's literature on the holocaust by 4th grade, I was overjoyed to be finally walking where some of my fictional characters once supposedly did.

Checkpoint Charlie was definitely the highlight of my trip. We got off at the KochstraBe metro stop - which, believe it or not, is located smack-in-the-middle of a four way street so that the only way to get anywhere is to diagonally cross over. This makes it the only diagonal crossway I have ever crossed. I was giddy and couldn't stop giggling as we made or way forward.

Further down the road, I saw a tiny cubicle and a supposed guard which stand as reminders of what the checkpoints looked like back in the day. But it's hard to imagine ( without the aid of movies recreating the scene) because today the city has grown on both sides and there are no barbed wires in between. What exists instead is a tiny museum, a square of the Berlin wall and an obligatory souvenir shop.

Obviously, I had to walk into shop and let out a silent squeal as I picked up what looked like a piece of the wall on sale for seven euros. I marveled aloud that they would even sell pieces of history and I'm glad I think out loud because the sales-clerk looked at me and in a matter-of-fact tone replied, "the pieces are fake, we make them to sell them". I promptly stepped out of the line and into the street, and wondered what the value of a fake piece of the wall was.

The next day Charis, my old college buddy and student of the said university, was drowning in schoolwork and after attending a lecture delivered by the then president of the then European Commission, Jose Barroso, we parted ways in front of the famous Berliner Dom. This Berlin Cathedral stands tall and proud, as though it were never destroyed during the war and had to be rebulit thereafter; a fact that is difficult for a traveler from a country like Nepal where the sorry state of once grand architecture is the norm, especially when our buildings haven't been bombed in quite the same way. Charis scooted off to cater to her paper as she handed me over to her friends.

After a lively discussion regarding the EC and Germany at a nearby pub, her friend, Simon made sure I didn't get lost in the city and showed me my way to Charis' apartment. Lucky for me, he decided to walk by an entire mile of what remained of the actual Berlin Wall! For a girl that had jumped up and down at the sight of one slab over at Checkpoint Charlie the day before, this was a real treat. (The only thing that stopped my tears of joy was probably the fact that Simon was a complete stranger). As we walked alongside what remained of the wall he told me that Berlin considers graffiti modern art and so permits paint and scribble on top of the wall. I was shocked that this piece of history, which in my mind, belonged to all of mankind could be, so to speak, vandalized legally. But, then I stumbled upon a few works that proved the wall is simply a metaphor that continues to be shaped and enlivened for the world today.

Something else that stood solemnly and quietly as a testament to humanity were the eerily empty crystal white book-cases that lined the four walls of an underground space visible through the thick glassed ground in Opernpatz. In 1933, the famous Nazi book burnings had occured on the very spot. Today it serves as a remainder for those who care to listen.

But all is not just history in the city of Berlin. Today the city is a thriving host to cosmopolitans from all walks of life. And, for a foodie such as yours truly, what is available for consumption is a good indication of how diverse the city may be. Aside from the traditionally European Apfelstrudel that ,melts in your mouth, my days in Berlin were spent hopping from one cuisine to another. Imet a Nepali friend of Charis', Jyoti and her British friend, Mags at a Vietnamese place for lunch one day. And the next, Charis and I were munching on the Shawarmas and Falafals made famous in Berlin by the Turks.

And, so, between Checkpoint Charlie and the cuisine perhaps the only thing that left me unimpressed for the most unexpected for the most unexpected part of Berlin was the Brandenburg Gate. I'm not sure what it is about the gate that had left me under the false impression that it was grand. Less than half the height it espouses on the television screen, it stood in the middle of the street and except for the few tourists posing for the obligatory "look-mom-I'm-in-Berlin" photos, no one else seemed to notice its presence.

But, the gate is of paramount historical and sentimental significance to those from Berlin, for it is through it that East and West Berlin were divided and then reconciled in 1989.

The East and West of Berlin co-exist today as remnants of the communist era which stubbornly presides over Berlin. The Weltzeituhr, which literally translates to "world time clock" is a device through which you can calculate the time of any place in the world. Something about the building strikes me as cold and hard, but in true Berlin fashion they weren't destroyed as symbols of East Berlin's pride.

The Fernsehturm, or the TV tower, still the tallest building in Germany shoots above the Berlin skyline. The tower was built by the then German Democratic Republic in East Berlin, to display its strength as it was to be visible from all posts of Berlin, including the west.

It is in the west that the Reichstag building stands tall and proud with the inscription, 'To (or For) the German people'. The German parliament, unlike our Nepali one, is made available for anyone to visit. The glass dome on top offers a 360-degree view of the city. And, though I am told lines are even longer in the summer months I was too lazy and simply ooh-ed and aah-ed over the intricate architecture, from the lawn itself. Apparently I missed out for in having the building never fully repaired since a suspicious fire of 1933 and the gross vandalism that took place during the second world war, the graffiti inscribed by the Soviets on the walls and roof remains preserved and still somewhat visible.

And yet again, not all is about the second world war and history in Berlin.

My last night in town it was suggested I do something "very" Berlin and join the university students for a night out. As we stood in line, Simon turned around and suggested I don't speak in English and just quietly hand my ID because these underground parties weren't looking for an invasion of tourists and backpackers. Of course, I had to wonder if my 5-feet frame and every bit of non-Aryan features didn't give that much away, but as the bouncer nodded me in despite my very non-Berlin ID, I walked into the most awkward few moments of my life.

Not one to go out dancing all that often and definitely not so in a techno underground club I found the music difficult to follow. It was just noise to me and I wasn't sure what was riling the crowd up. But, the good traveler that I am I joined them on the dance floor, pretended to get into the electro music (laughed at myself on the inside) and proceeded to feel like an absolute idiot. It didn't help that my head leveled at most everyone's navel because most really were that tall.

Needless to say, I didn't last very long. But, long enough to look around, enjoy the strange crowd I had surrounded myself ith and to politely excuse myself because I really did have an early morning flight out the next day.

Just a few days in Berlin and I knew I was going to need to find a reason to come back. I'd only seen very little of all that city had to offer. But, most of all as a citizen of a country still picking at the scabs of our conflict, I felt as though there was so much to learn from a city that had rebuilt itself, physically and emotionally, from a devastating war. But more so because Berlin didn't try to hide its past, it tried to face it. So, it wasn't just the world history that captivated me, but all that of the present that was too difficult for me to ignore.

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