Out Of The Rubble

March 2, 2013--Dresden (continued)
As we left the platform, we took an escalator down below and into the center of the station. The first thing we saw as we came into the center, was a giant KFC. The second thing we saw was a Burger King. The entire room actually was filled with fast food brands—all of them American names. The room itself though was quite interesting. It had a big glass dome roof, and intriguing pillars all around. In the center was a place to exchange currency.

Lad’ka led us over to a map and showed us the historical district we’d be going to see. She pointed us towards a door that was back the way we had come, and we headed out. “I hope is right way,” she said.

“I need to get some Euros,” I said, before we were out of the main room.

“I have some,” Thibaut said. Lee and Leo said they did too.

“You can use exchange,” Lad’ka said.

“I’d like to use an ATM,” I said. The only koruna I had was in big bills and I didn’t want all of it back in Euros, not to mention I was a little leery on the rate I would receive.

We found an ATM on the back side of the exchange station. “How much should I take out?” I asked.

“I have 50 Euros,” Lad’ka said. “Is absolutely enough.”

I withdrew 50. It was a funny looking bill, much smaller than US or Czech money. It was sort of an orange color and really did look like Monopoly money.

As we left the station, I was immediately taken back by how westernized everything looked. It looked like a strip mall from back in the US. With the exception of a few empty vender carts in the middle of the street, I’d have thought I was back in the states. The skyscrapers were large overhead. The brands were Nike, Abercrombie, and Hollister. While the mannequins in the window were far more anatomically correct than any I’d seen back home, everything else looked pretty much the same. There wasn’t anyone else out or about anywhere. I’m sure if you listened really close, you could hear all the way back to Prague.

We saw a cart with some maps on it, and Lee picked one up. It turned out to be a map for actual tour given by a particular agency, but it was a starting place to get oriented. We needed to walk down to the information office and then turn right to find the square.  As we got further down, we started seeing more of the historic looking buildings through the streets off to the right. We were tempted to turn towards them at one point, but as we did, Lad’ka saw the information office just one more block up.

As we entered the square, we started to see cobblestones once again. What struck me as we looked around the square was not the mall and the clock towers juxtaposed next to each other, but the ominous silence. It felt just like Terezin had, except the company of the group made it less creepy.

Lad’ka pointed us over towards a massive building with a large dome.

“What is it?” I asked.

“Is church,” she said. “It was completely destroyed in World War. They rebuild it from…from…I do not know the word.”

“Rubble?” I offered.

“Yes!” she said. “They rebuild it from the rubble.”

“Like a giant puzzle,” I joked.

She laughed. “Yes. It’s a puzzle church.”

We approached the old building, taking pictures as we did. The architecture was beautiful with beautiful stone carvings and wooden doors on each side of the building. Outside of the church was a large statue of Martin Luther.

“Was he important in this city?” Thibaut asked as we photographed it.

“I don’t think so,” I said, but I didn’t know. We later learned that he had preached in Dresden although I can’t find any evidence that the events held any historical significance specifically.

As we walked around the church, we found a sign stating that the church itself did not open until 10:00. It was only a little after 9:00. The air was frigid, and I think we all silently moaned at the idea of staying out in the cold. Surprisingly, aside from my chilled fingers, I felt ok.

We walked down the way a little towards a building that Lad’ka told us was the art academy. We came upon another abstract statue, this one of a naked man curled in a ball weeping. There were two dates on it separated by a hyphen so I assume it was some sort of memorial. All of the signs here were now in German so we weren’t positive on anything.

Next to the institute, we walked up an impressive looking staircase that gave a great view of the city. Again, the historic buildings juxtaposed next to modern structures made it feel so different from back in Prague. It was beautiful in a way. It made the culture jump out more than just the architecture.

Walking along the wall—which we now stood on top of—we saw a variety of unique gardens and fountains. There was a sign—in English—that described a museum to tour the old Dresden fort. It too did not open until 10:00.

“Apparently Dresden is closed in the morning,” I said. The others chuckled in agreement.

I was taking photos of everything. Every building, bridge, tree...even every cobblestone seemed to make its way into my camera. “I feel like one of those crazy American tourists that I make fun of,” I told Lad’ka.

“No,” she said. “You are now a crazy European tourist.” It made me laugh, but it also made me smile a bit. In some way, it made me feel like I fit in. I’d made the cut, and Europe approved of having me.

But my American personality still bubbled to the top. The group was quiet and mulling around taking photos. Even as I type it I feel guilty admitting it, but just being in the city wasn’t enough; I wanted to do something. I suppose I could call it “Edgy American Syndrome” because it is definitely a product of our highly productive culture, but I was antsy.

“What do we want to do?” I asked the group.

There was a quiet pause for a few seconds as we gathered together and exchanged glances.

“Get warm,” Lee said. Everyone agreed.

“Maybe we find a café,” Lad’ka said.

We retraced our steps back along the wall, down the stairs, passed the academy, and towards the church. We found a café right next to the church and stepped inside. I ordered a hot chocolate, Lad’ka got tea, thibaut coffee, and Lee and Leo both got espresso. The hot chocolate was awesome, but we all were more interested in the small mints that came with the drinks. We debated rather they were candy or mints, before we decided to eat them. They were definitely more like chocolate, but with kind of a crispy center.

“Now do you guys speak English back home?” I asked.

“It’s all we speak,” Lee said.

“No, I don’t speak it at home,” Leo said.

“We speak French back home,” Thibaut said. “I like French, but I want to speak English here.”

“I wish I knew more languages,” I said. “I took Spanish, but I definitely understand it better than I can speak it.”

“Do you know German?” Thibaut asked Lad’ka.

She nodded. Everyone laughed and thanked her for being our tour guide.

When the waitress came to bring us our bill, it was very similar to paying in Prague. The waitress told us each how much it would be and we paid her directly. Since I only had the 50 Euro note, and my drink was only 2.50, Thibaut loaned me some money until I could get some smaller change.

By that time, it was 10:15. We went back outside and saw that there were more people starting to come out and about. It was still freezing, but the sun was starting to burn through the clouds.

“Shall we go see the church?” Thibaut asked.

“Sounds good to me,” I said.

“We can get out of the cold,” Lad’ka said shivering.

“When weather is bad, go in a church,” Thibaut joked.

“It’s worked for thousands of years,” I added, speaking a bit more metaphorically.

As we walked up the stairs and into the building, there was a sign by the door that said, “You are entering a House of God, please act accordingly.” Lad’ka pointed it out to me and shook a finger at me. Then she smiled and we laughed.

The church was called Church of Our Lady and had originally been built in the 11^th century. During World War II, when Dresden was heavily bombed, fires consumed the building, causing it to collapse from within. Only one wall and one small archway were left standing. After the war, leadership in Eastern Germany decided to leave the rubble of the church in place as a memorial to the war. After the Berlin Wall collapsed, a reconstruction project was launched to rebuild the church. The wall and archway were built into the new building, along with many other fragments of rubble that could be restored. The exterior was completed in 2004, and the interior in 2005, with a rededication service held on October 30, 2005.

 “I think churches are always cold,” Lad’ka said. As she said it, we entered the sanctuary and were hit by a gust of warm air. We looked at each other with wide eyes.

“Not this church,” I said with a smile.

“I think they are cold because they are churches,” she said. I didn’t quite understand what she meant and my face must have given me away. “Do you believe in God?” she asked.

“I do,” I said.

“Oh,” she said looking up, “I don’t.”

The inside of the church was beautiful. Not only was the air warm, but the colors of the room were vibrant pastel colors. Most of the walls and ceilings were yellow, with peach trim and sky blue highlights. There were a few lavender colored banners, wrapped around golden crosses  and marble statues. The room felt safe and cozy.

Lee and Leo walked around the room taking photos of everything, while Thibaut took a few pictures himself. I was snapping photos in all directions with Lad’ka following close behind me. There was a man in a collar standing up by the altar. He was older and balding and speaking German to a group of tourists.

“Is this a Catholic Church or a Christian one?” Thibaut asked me as we met near the front.

I chuckled a little. “In the US, we consider Catholics to be Christians. We would separate churches by Catholic and Protestant.”

“Yes,” he said. “That is what I meant.”

“I’m guessing this is a Catholic church based on the number of statues,” I said. “Protestant churches would probably just have a few crosses and maybe a Jesus statue, but not this many different saints.”

“I don’t know,” Lee said, who was now standing next to me. “There is no statue of Mother Mary.” He told us he had gone to Christian private schools before.

“The sign outside said something about a crypt,” I said.  Seeing a door off to the side  that people were flowing in and out of, I suggested we go try to find it.

As we walked through the door, there was a desk with two women selling tickets. It looked like the basement required admission. Lad’ka, Thibaut, and I turned back, but we realized that Lee and Leo had gone downstairs.  As we peaked back into the entry way with the two women, we realized the tickets were for a different tour. The basement was free. As Thibaut, Lad’ka, and I shrugged at each other, we headed downstairs.

As we walked down the stairs, we saw a sign that said photography was not allowed. This is a true shame because the two chambers under church were even more impressive and amazing than the sanctuary up above. The first, was a gallery outlining the history of the churches rebuild. The church had been a catholic church, but following the reformation, became a Lutheran church. It is now the site of a Protestant festival every October 31. The church had been remodeled several times before its collapse in order to expand for the growing congregation. There had also been a graveyard which was destroyed in the bombing of WWII.

The next chamber was the worship room. The ceiling, walls, and floor of the corridor were like that of a cave or mineshaft. In the center of the worship room was a large hollowed out boulder with a cement cross suspended over it. Five rows of chairs formed a circle around the rock. There were candles scattered around the room for light (although there was some electric lighting as well.) Off to the various sides of the room were tunnels and niches, each with different shrine-like displays. One had a few gravestones that had been retrieved from the rubble. It was dedicated to the history of the church and its leadership. Another was a dark prayer room with a candle and tablet of the 10 commandments in the center. Lad’ka and I found one staircase that was completely dark. She didn’t want to go up it, and I wasn’t sure tourists were even allowed to enter. When  Thibaut joined us, he and I decided to take a look. There weren’t any lights as we climbed the steps, but at the top was a look down into the crypt. It was beautifully carved and sculpted from red bricks. We went back down to get Lad’ka and eventually convinced her to come see it. Soon, Lee and Leo joined us with a flashlight app on Lee’s phone.

“Well that ruins the mood,” I said. We laughed once again.

Lad’ka and I sat in the front row of chairs while the others wandered around some more. Lee and Leo came over to join us.

“Is that like a well to throw coins in?” Lee asked, pointing at the hollow boulder.

“I think it’s actually a baptismal font,” I said.

“Oh,” he said a little embarrassed. “Coins would not be good.”

“What was up those stairs?” I said, pointing to the staircase they had just descended.

“Modern art,” Lee said with air quotes around the words. I went to take a peek. At the top were two sculptures called “Destruksion” and “Construksion.” The first looked like a pile of blocks that had tumbled over. The second was the same pile of blocks arranged into what looked like a tower from a game of Jenga. I smiled. It totally captured not only the story of this church, but the story of humanity: rising from rubble to be successful once again.

I have to say, if I was ever tempted to test German authority and break the law, it was in that worship room. It was so surreal to see what looked like some sort of hidden temple or secret chamber buried underneath the city of Dresden. It felt so safe and so sacred. It was certainly the most spiritual place I had visited so far.