March 22, 2013
Back in the room, I took a shower before getting into bed. I
grabbed an extra pillow out of the closet and spread out my sleeping bag
beneath the quilt. The pillows were perhaps the most comfortable I’ve ever
slept on. I lay in bed for a bit, and journaled about the day so I could retype
it to the blog later. When I finished, I turned on the TV for a few seconds to
relax into bed.
It opened to the obligatory hotel porn channel. Flipping
through, I found CNN, BBC, and Fox. All of them were doing stories on the 10th
anniversary of the invasion of Iraq. Most of the other shows were in German. I
found one that I would call the German Colbert
Report. The stage and format of the show looked identical, and the bald
host’s body language bore a striking resemblance to Stephen Colbert.
But the show was entirely in German, so after a few minutes
I switched it off. Turning off the light over my head, I left the bathroom
light on (mostly to keep the monsters away) and drifted off to sleep…well
actually, I tossed and turned, played with my iPod, checked Facebook, sent a
few emails, listened to music, turned the light on, adjusted my pillows, turned
the lights off, rechecked Facebook, rolled over again, then rolled back, set an
alarm on my iPod, and went to sleep.
I don’t sleep well in new places.
March 23, 2013
My alarm went off at 8:30. I snoozed it once, and got up the
second time it went off. It was my Dad’s birthday so I sent him a quick email
to wish him a Happy Birthday.
When I got out of bed, I rolled up my sleeping bag. Getting
dressed, I layered with all of the clothes I had brought (minus my pajama
pants.) Ivana and Lubos were running late, so I took some more pictures of the
room—there really wasn’t much of a view and my windows were frosted over
anyway—and again played with my iPod.
They knocked on my door about 9:15. Apparently none of us
were morning people, because we barely said a word the elevator ride down.
“Do you want to eat breakfast at restaurant here?” Ivana
asked.
“It doesn’t matter to me,” I said. “Whatever you guys want
to do.”
“It is six euros to eat here,” she said.
“That works for me,” I said. “Unless you want to go
someplace else. I am flexible.”
They talked to each other a bit in Czech. “Ok, we will eat
here,” Ivana said. I gave Lubos the 20 euro bill that I had and they bought my
ticket while I waited with our stuff. When they brought me my change, took our
bags out to the car and then went back to the bar to get breakfast.
The breakfast was served buffet style. There were rolls with
butter and jelly, slices of ham, slices of cheese, scrambled eggs, and a
mushroom dish. I took a little of everything but the mushrooms. Juice was at
the end of the bar and I poured a glass of OJ. It was warm, but tasted very
good.
All of the food was good! Ivana thought that scrambled eggs
were very funny looking and said she’s only ever had them in Germany. Lubos had
also gotten a bowl of cereal and yogurt and said it was his favorite brand. We
also talked Ivana’s trip to America this summer and her plan to see the Grand
Canyon, San Francisco, Los Angeles, Las Vegas, and New York while she is there.
As we were eating, a family came and put their jackets on
the chairs around the table next to us. They were all wearing matching neon orange
t-shirts with all four of their names on the back of each of them. When they
went to get food, I got a little snobby.
“We should have gotten matching t-shirts,” I said. They
laughed.
“They must be Americans,” Lubos said.
“It is pretty popular in the US,” I said. “When I went on
SCUBA trip with my friends, we all wore matching shirts so we knew who was in
which dive group.”
After breakfast, they each had some coffee and I had a cup
of black tea before we headed out to the car. As we drove into town, a Bruno
Mars song played on the radio. I couldn’t help but feel that the city was
familiar. It was very modernized, but not in a western way. I mean, it did look
like any US capital city, but it felt different. It was modern yet without
being compact. The buildings were not built on top of each other. The streets
also were not congested. There were people out and about, and cars were driving
all around, yet there weren’t crowds or traffic jams.
“This is interesting building,” Ivana said pointing to a red
structure on our one side. It definitely looked like it could be a court house
or municipal building of some sort.
“What is it?” I asked.
“I don’t know,” she said. “But it looks historical.”
“That’s the classic tourist line, isn’t it?” I joked. “I
don’t know what it is, but it looks cool anyway.”
They both laughed.
We parked on the side of a street across from the mall and
next to a tall structure with what looked like a giant silver disco ball on top
of it. As we got out, we saw a machine to pay for parking. I offered the coins
I had to pay for the machine and Ivana bought a ticket for an hour.
Lubos started scrolling through his iPhone to find info
about the giant disco ball. It turned out be a TV tower and was the
quintessential landmark for Berlin (like the Space Needle in Seattle or Eiffel
Tower of Paris.) There was a restaurant at the top.
We were also parked next to a nice looking church. Lubos
looked it up and found that it was called St. Mary’s church. “Who’s Mary?”
Ivana asked. I couldn’t tell if she was joking or not, but I decided not to get
into a religious conversation.
As we walked around taking pictures of the tower and the
church, Ivana noticed I had my one hand in my pocket. “Here,” she said. “Take
my gloves. I have more in the car.”
“Thank you,” I said as she handed them to me.
“You are a hero for not wearing them,” she said as soon as she
had them off. “Is too cold.” Lubos gave her the keys and we walked back over to
the car for her to dig out her mittens.
In the space between the TV tower and the church, there were
weird cement barriers. Ivana and I stood on them talking while Lubos took a
panorama photo of the area. As we waited, Ivana looked down and saw that there
was a sign saying “Do not stand on barrier.” She translated it, we laughed, and
hopped off.
The TV tower restaurant also had tables outside on the
ground level. They were buried in snow and Lubos wanted a picture of the two of
us sitting at them. Ivana wanted a picture of Lubos and I in front of the
church. We all took turns trading off cameras and snapping photos for each
other as we walked around the little square.
As one end of the square was Neptune’s Fountain. It was a
huge blue and green fountain decorated with various mermaids and sea creatures.
We took pictures with it and I pulled out my triangle for a commemorative Boy
Scout photo.
Looking at Lubos’ phone, Ivana picked a location for us to
go see. I didn’t catch the name, but I gathered it was some sort of square.
When we got there, there was a Biergarten going on. Just like the Easter
festival in Prague, various vendors were selling their wears, playing music,
and preforming. Perhaps the most entertaining were the people WEARING grills
around their waists, walking around, selling hot dogs.
I was definitely more interested in mulling about the
culture than they were. It’s been my observation actually that people from
other countries aren’t quite as interested in examining culture and immersing
in the differences. I don’t know if this is true or just my perception, but I
have a theory on it. I think the blended cultures in America—the exposure to
traditions from Europe, Asia, Latin America, and Africa—has created a different
perspective and curiosity for the world than someone who is has grown up in,
say England, for example (where there is both a definitive history and blood
line.)
As I was taking photos every which way, they continued wandering
ahead. Every now and then they’d stop for me to get caught up.
“Don’t get lost,” Ivana said. “You don’t have mobile now.”
“I’m sorry.” I said. “I just find it all so cool.” They
laughed.
I did stop them at one point to try some homemade
chocolates. I bought a series of chocolates on a skewer, but was quite
surprised when I bit into it. While I am a big fan of chocolate covered fruit,
not only was I not expecting the sour taste, but I am not convinced that green
grapes should be covered in chocolate.
Lubos and Ivana also bought a treat. They split a marzipan
that was shaped like a potato. Offering me a bite, I tried it, and they
definitely had found the better sweet.
We walked around and between a few more buildings. In the
sun, it wasn’t too bad as long as the wind stayed down. When the gusts picked
up however, they blew with gale force, freezing the body’s very core. In the
shade, and the wind, it was miserable.
We walked down by a little canal and took some pictures of a
large building across the way. Much of the city seemed to be under
construction, but even so, the sprawling vastness of it was beautiful.
Our time on the parking meter was almost up. We started to
walk back to the car, when Ivana asked if I wanted to see inside the church. I
said I did, and we walked in. The inside felt very warm—not just physically,
but spiritually too. It wasn’t very ornate or decorative, but it looked quite
grand. Perhaps the most unique feature
of this particular sanctuary, were the pews on one side of the aisle did not
actually face forward, but rather ran perpendicular to the altar.
“Can you take a picture of me?” I asked Ivana, handing her
my camera. She smiled and agreed.
Looking at the LED screen of my camera, she looked puzzled.
“Is dirty?” she said. I came over and rubbed the corner of my scarf on the lens
to clean it. She snapped a few photos. “Is still dirty,” she said.
I looked at it. The image did look blurred. I looked at the
lens, then back at the LED screen, then back at the lens. It wasn’t actually
dirty. Ice crystals had been forming on the lens. When we entered the church,
they turned to condensation. Scrubbing it with my scarf had only made it
worse.
I breathed onto the lense and whipped it again. The display
looked much better and she tried a few more photos.
As we prepared to leave, one series of paintings caught my
eye. Along one wall was a set of murals all depicting Jesus returning from
heaven. In all of them, I found a few ironic points. (1) Jesus was always
Caucasian. (2) His beard was always well trimmed and his hair immaculately groomed.
(3) He was always carrying a sword or a spear of some type.
Not to spark religious debate, but seriously?
Outside, Lubos told Ivana something in Czech and she said he
needed to use the toilet. We walked across the street to the mall and went to
find a restroom. When we’d found one, he went in while Ivana and I waited
outside. I couldn’t help but notice how deserted the shopping center looked.
There were hardly any customers anywhere.
When Lubos returned, we went back to the car and began
driving across town. We were still in West Berlin (and had been thus far…with
the exception of our initial drive in.) As we drove around, there were more
cool looking buildings. We briefly considered parking by one that had a large
green roof and looked holy, but Lubos thought we could find a more central
location.
“That looks like something good to see,” Ivana said as we
drove by one building. I agreed, it looked very significant, but we didn’t know
exactly what it was.
As we passed one open area, Ivana pointed to a monument. It
was a series of probably over 100 grave stone like fixtures, of various sizes
and shapes.
“What is it?” I asked.
“Is a place for dead people,” she said.
“Like a cemetery,” I said.
“Yes!” she said. “Is for the millions of Jews killed.”
Probably just a monument then I decided.
We found a place to park and paid for another 2 hours.
Walking back towards the center, we were in kind of a strip mall like area. At
the end we were approaching, there was a large arch with a green chariot and
eagle-like fixture on the top.
Ivana was reading the details from Lubos’ phone. “This is
the busiest street in Berlin,” she explained.
Lubos pointed at something, and they both laughed. I looked.
It was a Dunkin’ Donuts.
“Do you feel at home?” he asked.
I laughed. “They are more popular on the East Coast, but yes
I have had them.” I like Krispy Kreme better.
There was a display in the middle of the strip that talked
about the holocaust. Looking at the pictures and very few English captions, I
realized that many of these glass storefronts had been destroyed in the krystallnacht
(“Night of Broken Glass”) when the Nazi’s invaded Jewish owned businesses. What
was now Dunkin’ Donuts had once been someone’s livelihood…and that livelihood
had once been crushed and ripped away.
As we got closer to the arch, we were drawn into the sea of
tourists. There were a number of performers in amusement park costumes (Mickey
Mouse, Mario & Luigi, etc.) as well as different people dressed as
historical era soldiers posing for photos. There was one guy who was selling
“German Visas” out of a card board box…if that isn’t a tourist scam, I don’t
know what is.
There were just as many police on the strip as there had
been in the Dresden train station. They again had big guns and travelled around
in packs. All three of us commented on it, and I shared with them Lad’ka’s
lesson about them being around for safety. It was the same thing my friend
Vikki had told me before I left.
As we walked under the arch, we noticed a fire truck with its
latter deployed up to the top of the display.
“Maybe there is a cat,” Ivana joked. Whatever it was, it was
creating a lot of commotion.
We rounded the corner and walked by one of the buildings
Ivana had pointed out on the drive in. It didn’t show up on the iPhone so we
weren’t exactly sure what it was called. “We will go to the cemetery now,” she
said. The way she pronounced it sounded more like “symmetry.”
As we walked along we passed yet another building that Ivana
pointed to. This time, she was pointing at the roof. “It’s your flag,” she
said. Sure enough, billowing above the roof tops was Old Glory. “I like your
flag,” she added.
“Thank you. I do too,” I smiled.
The holocaust memorial was very beautiful, and we spent some
time maneuvering through the maze like valleys created by the large stones. The
ground was caked in ice and the unstable cobblestone walkways were slick and
lacked any friction what-so-ever. The icicles that were formed on the graves
were just as beautiful as the monuments. They were also an ironic reminder that
this was the third day of spring.
As we walked back towards the arch, we saw that the fire
department was in fact scrapping ice and snow off the top of the arch. Like a
good tourist, I stopped to get a picture.
Crossing the street, we went over towards a building that
looked like it could be a capital building. It was larger than all the others
and had a giant German flag billowing in front of it. Ivana thought it was the
capital of Berlin, but Lubos said it was nothing special. He found it on his
iPhone and apparently, it had been used by the government prior to WWII, but it
was leveled during the war. The reconstruction was part of an effort by the EU.
Now, it appeared to just be some office space and a tourist attraction.
Ivana also pointed out the view we had of the Berlin railway
station. I don’t remember if she said it was the largest in Germany or the
largest in the EU, but it was significant in one way or another.
As the end of the strip was a giant golden tower. We started
walking towards it as our final stop before lunch. The walk was allegedly 2km,
but it didn’t feel that long to me. Ivana and Lubos talked to each other in
Czech most of the way. I snapped pictures of the frozen parks, and tried to
keep my nose warm from the freezing wind. It had really picked up and despite
my layers, I was frozen!
“I do not think this city is very good for tourists,” Ivana
said in English.
“Why’s that?” I asked. There certainly were a lot of tour
buses and guide services everywhere.
“It is a lot of parks and not a lot of attractions,” she
said. She was right, but I think the reality is that the city is very spread
out and harder to see on foot.
We made it to the tower and snapped a few photos of it. We
were really on the wrong side to get good shots and the sun was casting odd
shadows. The tower was encircled by a round-about, and the only way out to it
was through an underground tunnel.
We went through the tunnel, the walls of which were
decorated with LED tv screens that sensed heat and lit up to show silhouettes
of people walking by. We took a lot of photos of it and in front of it, trying
to capture the cool light effects.
When we came up out of the tunnel at the base of the tower,
Ivana said, “I don’t like it. It is too far away and not that pretty to look
at.” Most of the tower was stone and marble, with the only real gold being a
giant eagle on the top. We inquired in the office about the price to go up in
the tower, but Lubos said it was fairly expensive. We only had 15 minutes left
on our parking meter anyway, so we decided to walk back.
On the way, we passed a communism memorial we hadn’t seen on
the way up. It had several old tanks and cannons on display. Ivana and Lubos
talked about it in Czech and I couldn’t gather if they thought it was cool or
creepy.
As we walked along, Ivana pointed at one of the buses.
“Look!” she said. I followed her finger and saw what she had recognized. The
name on the front of the bus was my last name. “We need picture with it!” she
said. I gave her my camera and she took a picture of me with my bus.
The driver laughed at us, but we all felt like good tourists.
By the time we walked back under the arch and to the car, we
were way over our time on parking. Luckily, we didn’t have a ticket. Climbing
inside and blasting the heat, we decided we should go to East Berlin for lunch
and then would see the wall.
