Day 76 - On the Road Again

It has been lovely being pampered by the family, but all good things must come to an end. We spent most of the morning preparing for our departure. Cz sorted and re-packed our bags to be more air and train friendly, while I walked to Tegel and sent off some packages. I tried to do it in German, but the minute the Postal Lady hear my accent, she switched over to English. Being lazy, I followed suit.

We had another terrific meal with H and B, before H drove us to Berlin HBF. We arrived at the station quite early in order to meet a friend from NY for coffee. She is an artist, and plans to live in Berlin for the next two years to soak up, and work in the atmosphere described in the previous post. It was great fun catching up, and we got to play know-it-all with tips about Berlin.

We met near the great steel horse sculpture. It is a giant metal bronco bucking over a glass-windowed box. In the box are old bits of the original HBF, train engine parts, photos and other memorabilia from the early days of rail. Back when trains were called steel horses. I'm guessing it's a metaphor.

The train ride to Prague was largely uneventful, made less-so by the presence of several very lively, very cute children. Well, they were cute to us; I'm sure their antics were exasperating their parents to no end.

Prague felt like an old friend. We navigated from the train station to the hostel map-less and hitch-free. After settling our stuff and dashing off a few quick e-mails, we decided to take a little walk around the city. At the end of one street, we saw a huge, well-lit dome. We meandered that direction, and discovered the huge, state museum that we had previously seen only by day. By night, it looks less like a museum and more like a grand, haunted castle. Old museums being what they are, I wouldn't be surprised if the reality lies somewhere in the space between.

Day 75 - WAY East village

Today we went to visit Kreutzburg. It is an area of Berlin that was, if not all on the East side of the Wall, was at least divided by it. The atmosphere was much like the best parts of East Village - quirky and artsy, a little scruffy in some parts, full of all sorts of different people.

Our first stop was an art gallery showing the work of an up-and-coming artist who blurs the line between fashion and sculpture. Here pieces were visually arresting, and I enjoyed the visit very much, but I couldn't help thinking (a little conceitedly maybe), that my peers and I had had most of those ideas already. As we learned in grad school - There are only 7 good ideas in the world, it's just how we present them that differs.

From there, we went to the park. It is huge and leafy - Berlin is, I think, the greenest city in Germany, and very in keeping with the rest of the area. There are wavy slides that are the fastest I have ever slid down, walking paths, and playgrounds. all this fun practically rubs shoulders with a think tank and experimental area testing green energy, and watchtowers from when this was the dead zone around the wall. The watchtowers I think are the most striking. What was once such a symbol of fear, literally a source of death, is now a canvas for graffiti.

We wandered our way down to the Badenschiff (literally swimboat), an old cargo barge, now filled with water, and converted to a floating public pool. It is a plce to see and be seen, though we opted out, as it was quite cold outside. Also in the vicinity of the swimming boat were a number of performance space and restaurants. We had a light meal at one, the Frei Swim, and were entertained by an assortment of swans, ducks, and sparrows. On the other side of the river stands a sculpture that Jeff Koons did (H and B met him a while back and has an autographed postcard, and two posters that their daughters now have).

Over lunch, B talked a little bit about growing up in E Berlin, how everyone listened to the forbidden radio stations, but no one talked about it. Afterwards, as we were driving home, I was thinking about Berlin, and all the changes it has seen in recent years. In my own lifetime, I have been to the Wall, or where the wall was, at least once a decade since 1987. In 1987, I was just a kid, and didn't really understand what I was being shown. My main memory of it is lots of graffiti, and how the wall seemed to just fit between the buildings on either side. Oddly, I was struck most by how ordinary it seemed.

In 1989, I received a t-shirt from my mom's cousin G with a picture of the Brandenburg Gate, and the date 1989 printed large. I'm not sure if that t-shirt is floating around somewhere in family storage, but I remember my mom telling me that the date and the image were very important.

1995-ish, I went to visit the Berlin family, and friends from high school (B and HS, we saw them in delft this visit). Potsdammer Platz and much of Berlin was under construction - cranes and mounds of earth interspersed with shiny new buildings where once there had been nothing but Wall and dead space. We even went to a concert in the foyer of the Neue National Gallery, one of the new projects in that space. Oddly, the main event of the concert was not Ode To Joy, or something similarly exuberant. It was Tchaichovsky's 6th Symphony, The Pathetic Symphony. A haunting and bittersweet piece, most appropriate for the time and place, I think.

2004 Cz and I visited Berlin as part of our honeymoon tour. There was still quite a bit of construction going on, but the city was bustling and modern, the line between East and West decidedly blurred. We saw Blue Man Group perform in a large, new theatre right on Potsdammer Platz.

This trip, Berlin is as dynamic as ever. It is an exciting city, managing somehow to be industrial and arty all at once with muscular grace. As we walked by ourselves, Cz and I had a hard time distinguishing which side of the city we were on. To our untrained eyes, the only demarcation of east and West in the city center was a simple line of paving stones, and whether the red and green walk/don't walk signal men wore hats or not.

It's hard to believe how much has changed in such few years. It will be interesting to see what happens as the presence of the divide fades first into memory, and then into history. Berlin is an old city which feels young. In a way, the wall coming down stripped away the years, giving the city a chance to start fresh. As it rolls into the future, I wonder if Berlin will keep that youthful energy, or will become another Grande Dame of the European capitals. Only time will tell, I suppose.

Day 74 - Monday, Monday

In Germany it's OK to trust Mondays. This morning we ran a few errands with H, including more Doxycycline for Cz and some herbal cough medicine for me. The Doxy is just to prevent malaria when we head south, and the cough meds are for the fever-free, I-feel-fine-but-sound-gross remnants of this cold. No need to worry, Parents and Dr's in the family.

After our errands, we walked over to Tante's house. She prepared a delicious meal, which featured meatloaf, one of Cz's faves. She told us that she was going on a short trip, so we had to eat at all. As per usual where eating is concerned, the burden fell to Cz. I filled my plate, but sneaked in portions onto Cz's plate at every opportunity. It's not that I didn't like it, quite the contrary, it's just that there was so MUCH of it. Dinner duly eaten, we fell into a stupor while Tante tidied up and did the dishes.

After our little siesta, we went on a tour of family history, visiting the house where my mom was born, and her kindergarten building. Then we drove through the woods to Tegel See (Tegel Lake) , and to the fine restaurant Tolouse...Where we ate. Again. This time sweets and coffee. Cz and I both ordered what we thought would be small desserts. They were not small. Again, like Tante's dinner, delicious, but HUGE.

Tante invited us back to her apartment for tea, and we gladly accepted. The tea worked wonders on our drum-like tummies (even Cz's stuck out over his pants today!), and while we sipped our tea, my cousin and her mom showed up. This was a wonderful surprise, as they were both very busy, and we had expected only to be able to chat on the phone. Cz took a picture of the three generations of Hoffmans talking together. The family resemblance is striking. The same thing happens when my Omi, Mom and I turn up in the same photo. It could be an ad: The Hoffmanns - Strong Women. Strong Genes.

My cousin U, Cz and I ended up walking to H and B where we were greeted with, wait, wait for it...MORE food. We managed to convince U that she too was underfed and had dinner with us. Aside from great conversations with her catching her uncle and aunt on what she has been up to (she is a commercial pilot...she has flown Boeings and is now training to fly AirBUS), she helped with the eating of the food. Overall quite a FULL day.

Day 73 - Goodbye Lenin...

...hello, Pickles! If any of you have seen the movie "Goodbye Lenin", you may remember the quest for Spree Wald Gurken. Spree Wald, does in fact exist, and it is a very lovely place. At one point in its life, was a top producer of tiny pickles (still is), though the main economy today is probably tourism.

The area has been active since the middle ages. To this day, there are very few roads, and most traffic travels on the many arms of the river Spree. In the summer long, flat-bottom boats either poled (like English Punting) or with small motors ply the water. In the winter, small sleds pushed by hand carry locals around.

The area is recognized by UNESCO, and it easy to see why. We arrived by train. From the station, the town is a pleasant 1.5 kilometre walk through a small forest dotted with monuments. Emerging on the other side of the trees, it is easy to imagine oneself far away from the here and now. Cars do whiz by on the outskirts of the town, but the center is utterly quiet, but for voices, the swoosh of water through small loch gates, and the occasional putt-putt-putt of a boat motor. Apparently, nowhere else in Germany, perhaps Europe, has this convergence of so many river arms. As a result it is carefully regulated and conserved.

Which is not to say it entirely rejects the modern. As in Muenster, Spree Wald has an outdoor sculpture project. We took a boat tour along the waterways to see the area and to learn some of its history. Along with with the beautiful green landscape and history, sculptures surprised us at every turn. In the first one we saw, white forms stretched up out of the water. A little further along, an Ophelia floated just under the surface. Some sculptures were figurative, referencing old tales, others were abstract forms hovering over, along, or in the water.

Overall it was nice to find art in such an unexpected setting. That is one of the things I love best about Europe. The Arts are publicly funded, and widely supported. As a result, both cities and countryside are much more dynamic and lively. In Europe, unlike in the States, art is not the property of the elite few who can afford to go and see it, but rather it spills out into the streets (or in this case waterways), free to any passerby.

After our boatride, we had a lovely lunch at the main Estate. The meal featured local specialties, including, yes, Spree Wald pickles. Very tasty, and great company! (H, B, Cz) Throughout the meal, we could hear the local band playing around a corner of the river. Today it was a band playing old folk songs. Other days it is a choir or children's music group. Point is, there is always music in the air.

Inside the building itself (whose current incarnation is 18th century, but which has been around since the 12th), there is a museum to the history of Spree Wald. Of particular interest to Cz was the model of the town with a laser pointer one could direct over certain buildings to learn more about them. I was most interested in the costume exhibits. In earlier days, Spree Wald women wore elaborate headdresses and aprons in their ordinary lives. Even today, they still wear them for special occasions like weddings and religious holidays.

As stated earlier, we traveled there by train. Train travel in Europe, and particularly in Germany, is cheap, easy, and reliable. With the train, you can get nearly anywhere in with a minimum of hassle. We traveled on a family weekend pass, which basically meant that all four of us could ride any train in the DB system except the high-speed ones, anywhere in Germany we would have wanted to go. I will miss both the good public transportation and the family when we return home.

Day 72 - Ich bin ein Berliner...

We decided to head out on our own for the day to see Berlin since our lovely hosts have already seen them plus it gave us the chance to be on our own schedule and be able to wander about and see things on our own pace...but first they took us through Tegel on a regular Saturday morning.
As in Muenster, H and B liked going to the Saturday market in the middle of Tegel. It is basically an indoor version of an outdoor market, with stalls and booths that sell produce, meats, milk, etc. H recalled in former times when the market would have only one stall dedicated on selling dairy, or meats, or produce, but since the wall fell there are now a great variety to choose from (endless wursts and cheeses) plus a few specialties that recently opened up, like a sushi counter. We took a stroll through the main street where we had Italian icees and walked to the pier where we saw the kindergarten my Omi went to, the church where she and her other sister got married in, and to see the Tegel lake. We walked back and saw what in former times was a bridge in which you had to pay 5 cents to cross.

After they walked us to the train station, we headed off to Berlin-Hauptbanhof to purchase our tickets for Prague and decided to walk. Our first stop was right outside the station - a large sand sculpture exhibition was taking place. It was quite impressive considering that it has been raining and the wind has not been that forgiving. Instead of actually going into the beach area to take a closer look, we opted to see them from a distance over a bridge...the price of admission would cost us the Currywurst we were told we had to get, a delicacy invented in Berlin.

We took a walk on the river Spree to go to Museum Island. The Spree had served as a natural barrier between East and West during the cold war, and as we walked on the west side of the river, on the ground was the former footprint of the wall in two rows of bricks. It is completely amazing how much has changed in less than 20 years - where once were walls, barricades, and watchtowers are now a beautiful pedestrian path, with daily riverboat tours on the Spree. H had commented a while back that when Germany reunited, each citizen agreed to a 30 year plan in which each citizen would pay a certain amount each month for the reconstruction of all of Berlin. Seems like Berliners have something to be very proud about.

Part of the renovations took the form of building modern buildings for the new offices of the Reunified Parliament. I. M. Pei was one of these architects and he took great pleasure in using glass and concrete to make these government buildings look gracious by the river Spree. If you look really close, you can see us in the reflection to the left of the big circle...its a blurr but hey.

Next is the view of the Reichtag, one of the seats of German Parliament (Brundestag) where plenery sessions take place (info from G, who is a lawyer and was kind enough to supply us with the correct information) . Part of the renovations for the building took the form of an open dome designed by Norman Foster that could peer into the Parliament floor, as a symbol for the new "open government." We went up into the dome three years ago during our honeymoon and the view is quite spectacular. I wonder how hard it would be to convert the Capitol dome into glass...

This station is now the Friedrichstrasse, but during Cold War times, H referred to it as the "Palace of Tears." This was the last stop before those who lived in the west and visited relatives in the east would come to go back to West Berlin. Those in the West were given permission to go to the East to visit relatives maybe once or twice a year, so any departure from this station would always be a sad one both for those leaving and for those who have to stay behind.

We got to Museum Island after walking through a street fair but quickly realised that the museum we intended on going was closed for renovations, so we decided to walk to the nearest station and ended up getting our Currywurst and Apfelshorle (sparkling apple juice). Currywurst is basically sausage with onions and tomato sauce cooked with yellow curry. Really cheap and really tasty. Definitely well worth the wait.

Our next stop was the Kaiser Wilhelm Memorial Church. The church was built in the late 1800's and was damaged in 1943. Local opposition saved it from being demolished and instead a new church was built alongside the old one. Inside the old church is now a museum with the history of the church and pictures from before the bombings. Part of the new church has a freestanding modern hexagonal bell tower where the original nave of the church used to be. Inside the new church is a wall of beautiful blue stain glass that gives this modern church a very peaceful and somber feel. I am completely in awe of the way Berliners have both rebuilt their city and preserved the past and managed to gracefully combine both to have a city that is itself a living, breathing memorial. Truly a city that has risen from the ashes.

We headed back shortly after buying some rope and clips for our laundry line that we lost on the Camino. A full day complete with a hot dinner waiting for us back at H and B.

Day 71 - Rain Date

It was a lovely morning, so we lingered over breakfast outside. I then gave Cz a haircut in the garden. It turned out quite nicely. Our long morning outside apparently used up all of the weather gods' goodwill.

We hopped in the car as rain started to pour down. We hoped that it would just be a passing shower, and headed towards Kreutzberg. It was not a passing shower. Accompanied by thunder and lightning, the rain continued unabated. We decided to go museum-ing at the Martin Gropius instead.

Our first stop was an exhibit of Scythian culture. The Scythians were a greoup of semi-nomadic people who ranged from Poland East through most of Russia and Mongolia. They were divided into several disitict tribes, but all of them expressed an amazing degree of sophistication in theior metalwork, horsemanship, and trade with the outside world. Their burial mounds indicate a strict social hierarchy, and the artifacts found in the mounds include both locally-made and imported metal, glass, bone, even leather and cloth goods.

The Scythians were active both before and durng the height of both the Egyptions and the Celts. It is interesting to note just how similar some of the motifs between the cultures are.

In some graves, women were found in full war-dress, and/or the attire traditionally associated with men. There is speculation that these are the Amazons described by Heroditus. Supporting this theory are occasional blond-haired blue-eyed women who appear in the modern nomadic population of Mongolian horse herdsmen. Genetic tests are being run on both Scythian mummies and these living women. Perhaps the Amazons are alive and well, and riding the plains even today.

After the Scythians, we went to another floor of the same gallery to see a showing of Cindy Sherman's photographs. As a photographer, much of her work is focused on subverting the idea of feminine beauty. She is famous both for the quality of her images, and for being her own model. In her younger years, she quoted famous film stills, putting herself in the rolls of the female stars. As she aged, she began emplying heavy make-up, prosthetics, and photographing dolls rather than herself. Cz and I are engaged in lively debate as to whether or not she is a hypocrite for saying that she is subverting beauty when she so clearly employed her own youth and beauty while she had it, but not using herself as her own model as she ages. Her looks are sort of a catch-22. Had she not been beautiful to start, she would have been percieved as simply bitter. As a conventionally beautiful woman, she can be percieved as a hypocrite. Perhaps this debate is what she intended all all along.

Day 70 - It's Good to have a King for a Pal

We spent most of today with another of my grandmother's sisters (She has two sisters and a brother, all living in Germany, and we are visiting all of them). Tante (German Aunt) took us to the summer palace belonging to a good friend of Kaiser Wilhelm II. It is a lovely estate surrounded by lush gardens and outbuildings. The grounds were used for hunting parties for the royals, and the house as political meeting point. In its history, the official function of the estate was much like that of Camp David - a place where the important members of the government would go to relax.

Ironically, the estate's chapel was the home of the Red Chapel, a group of young people (20's and 30's) opposed to the Nazis. The members of the group were discovered and executed, including, among others, the granddaughter of the estate's owner. Today, the chapel is a memorial to this brave group.

The estate is now both a tourist site - one can wander the grounds and climb the tower of the church - and a luxury hotel. Lucky for us, one need not be a guest at the hotel to partake of the delicious food, served on a terrace overlooking the grounds. We had a lovely lunch at the main house (hotel), followed by ice cream and coffee at the garden house (an adorable little cottage in its own right).

After our tour of the estate, we returned to Tante's apartment, where we had a lovely time talking and hearing various family stories. All of the family speaks English in varying degrees. The last time I saw Tante, she spoke hardly any English - today, we were able to converse quite nicely mostly in English, and with enough hand gestures that I could follow the German bits.

One subject she kept bringing up is how blessed Germany is to be war-free for 60 years. She and my grandmother, as the two older sisters, remember quie clearly the horrors of WWII. As we walked from Tante's apartment back to H and B's (the Aunt and uncle with whom we are staying), she described how the whole street had been fire-bombed and she and my grandmother had to run for shelter with the two little children. Every house on the block holds a memory for her, both for what stands there now, and what stood there before the destruction. As an American, sheltered by two great oceans from the horrors of war all around us (much of it our own doing), I find it hard to imagine living through such horror first-hand. I find myself seriously impressed with the fortitude of my own own family. I hope never have to face such things myself, but I know that I come from tough stock, and hope that I could face them with the same aplomb.

Day 69 - Home Again (sort of)

We took the night train from Brussels to Berlin, arriving at HBF at a little after eight this morning. We were met on the platform by my aunt and uncle (technically my mom's aunt and uncle, but that's just a technicality). They drove us to their home in Tegel where we spent a lovely morning raiding the cheese in their refrigerator, catching up online, and reading in the garden. When they returned from their errands we had yet another round of coffee and kuchen (did I mention how much I like the Germans' idea of afternoon snack), this time pflaumkuchen (plum cake) supplemented by luscious grapes from their garden. After coffee and kuchen, we headed into Berlin proper for a little sightseeing.

We visited Humboldt University, where both of my cousins studied, and also the site of a monument to university books burned under the Nazi regime. Empty bookcases under a glass panel in the plaza where the burnings originally took place. From Humboldt, we walked past various churches, and viewed the Berlin TV tower. Built on the East side under the GDR (or DDR, as it is known here), it was supposed to be testament to man, and defy the surrounding churches. However, sunlight hitting the reflective panels that form the round ball on the top of the tower shines a cross shape. Among the churches we passed were the French and Berlin Doms. One king, one of Friedrichs, maybe, was very francophile in his leanings. The Huegonots, (we think) were seeking asylum, which the German king granted. As a result, there were two churches built. Nearly identical except in ornament, one held services in French, the other in German.
Near the churches, we stopped for a drinks, and some music by a street performer. This is a prime location for performers, as most of the outdoor restaurant patrons are tourist or locals sightseeing, and are easily charmed. Sometimes disputes over the territory arise, but usually the same core of performers peaceably cycle thru.

Home again for dinner and a football (soccer) match on TV. England V Germany. Germany won.