Ich bin ein Berliner

We left for Berlin sleepy eyed. Some of us started to wake up as we realized that we were getting on the infamous Autobahn. Our driver took us on a shortcut through the countryside that was a patchwork of quaint houses and yellow flowered fields. Dr. Kleine reminded us to be enthusiastic and absorb the view and the experience.

Berlin was quite amazing. It reminded me of a European version of New York City. Or maybe I should say NYC is the Americas’ version of Berlin. We visited quite a few monuments and museums but the one that now has a permanent niche in my memory is the Jewish Museum. The museum is the design of Daniel Libeskind whose architecture evokes experiences reflecting the themes of the stories it holds. The Garden of Exile gave me a feeling of disorientation, the Holocaust Tower made me feel uneasy and “Shalechet” or “Fallen Leaves” nearly brought me to tears. The industrial sounds made by the clinking of metal as we walked over the plates became so loud and overwhelming that as I walked back I found myself being more careful. In a matter of seconds the metal plates became the people they represented and I felt guilty for walking on them. I think our tour guide was right to emphasize that this museum may be a story about the Jewish experience during the Holocaust but it was meant for a non-Jewish audience. The architecture cleverly and creatively makes one realize that we may be able to listen to stories of survivors and read about atrocities, but we can only come so close to imagining the real thing. And even such a superficial proximity to the truth is quite poignant and uncomfortable at times. For us, the harsh reality of many is an unfathomable nightmare.

The most unique and atypical memorial we were shown by our tour guide was that of the Bavarian Quarter. Our tour guide explained that this neighborhood of Berlin was wealthy and the residence of many German Jews. As a tribute to German Jews, there are signs posted up around the area with certain rules and injustices enforced on Jews. Each sign has a statement on one side, such as “Jews can no longer own or operate retail stores or mail-order businesses,” and a picture coinciding with the message on the other side. These signs are not large but serve as a quiet reminder for those who walk through the quarter. This memorial is one of the many manifestations of the German desire to remind themselves of their relatively recent history, as difficult as this may be.

Despite its bustling character during the day, the city streets grew quiet at night. I found myself wondering where all those people went as I followed Tatiana to a Latin themed club. The people at Havana were as diverse as the people in our class. I was surprised (for the second time) that some German people had such a passion for Latin music and dancing.

Berlin left an impression on me and I am looking forward to my next visit. For now, I can echo the words of former President Kennedy, “Ich bin ein Berliner.”