Tourists of sorts in Berlin

Says Billy:


Berlin was a joy to visit. Aside from everyone speaking German all the time, Libby and I were ready to move in. The "Futurist" in me (i don´t know what this means, but Libby likes to call me one) loves the highly organized, efficient and easy to use train and subway system (and though we bought a day pass on our first day in town, we used the subway dozens of times and never saw any need to have a ticket).

The anti-G8 organizers decided to disperse the international visitors throughout the squats and radical collectives centralized in the Kreuzberg neighborhood. Enjoyably to us, the cold war division of Berlin into four quadrants means that there´s no real "downtown," but rather lots of distinct neighborhoods with their own cultural and commercial districts. Kreuzberg is a pleasant mix of Turkish and African immigrants and young vegetarian and leftist leaning Germans. As activist "ghettoes" go, Kreuzberg felt much more "integrated" with the "locals" than other cities, and the organizers tried to strengthen this connection by printing 5,000 anti-G8 newspapers and distributing them door-to-door throughout the neighborhood and having Volkes Kuche (People's Kitchen) in Gorlitzer park.

Gorlitzer park is a likably run-down place, about 12 blocks long and 2 wide, with a nice stone path running through the whole length and then across the river and further on into the old East Germany (right across the river we stumbled upon an artsy/anarchisty squat neighborhood of vagens, with a couple dozen campers and a huge social/theatre space, all tucked underneath the bridge and running along the river). The whole park feels (to be dainty) "under manicured" and across from the people's kitchen is a huge fountain that apparently was built with the wrong kind of stone and so it froze and cracked horribly. As a result, it looks like bombed out ruins. This adds to the general worn down look of the park. But all the same, the park was full of people, no matter what time of day we went, and there seemed to be a relatively contented mix of muslim women chatting together, young hipsters having picnics and groups of punks drinking beer. It was a good place to have a free meal and have a meeting about protesting the G8.

We got set up with an awesome place to stay. An apartment with 7 anarchists living together, right by the health food store and U-Bahn. We had our own room with Loft bed and were welcomed to leave our things and go off to Rostock for days. All the housemates we met were kind, hospitable and thoughtful radicals. Really, we talked about moving in!

On our last night in Berlin, we made a huge meal and sat and talked with three of the housemates. One was raised in a small town in East Germany and one was raised in East Berlin. Both were teenagers when the wall fell. So, we asked them to tell us about the "good side"* of life in East Germany. I know that I'm at such a disadvantage in trying to really understand communism or the cold war. I think the so-called "iron curtain" was so thick and full of thorns that it'll be incredibly difficult to tear it down now. So, I'm really grateful for the stories and descriptions our friends from Berlin gave.

In short, they told of a profound contradiction, or paradox. In East Germany, they had, "no political freedom," "everything was totally ordered - our whole lives were planned out," and, basically, "it was totally boring." "We lived in identical grey concrete boxes and just worked. Everyone who didn't want to work was punished for 'anti-social behavior'... then, suddenly, at 65, you didn't have to work and you were free to travel." At the same time, "food was really cheap," "rent was cheap," "books were cheap," "the cinema was cheap" "everyone was guaranteed housing and healthcare was free," and to top it off, "our schools were better than those in the West; we were all highly educated, with a high emphasis on literature, culture." In other words, meeting all of people´s basic needs is not enough. People crave - maybe need - autonomy, joy, play, even unpredictability.

Our friend from the small town in East Germany seemed stubbornly devoted to doing whatever he wants, whenever he wants. One housemate said that he sometimes goes weeks by himself and then suddenly rejoins the community. This seems a natural reaction to a highly organized existence. Still, he says he wants "No Government, but when a hospital needs built, I want someone to build it."



It's simple-minded and self-serving to say that communism is all bad and claim a victory for capitalism, but this is what has happened since the wall fell. There was some small discussion about "taking the best of both Germanys" but this was way less popular than simply scolding the communists and flaunting all the new commodities. Seems so much better to just face it, talk it out, analyse it, try and understand what communism really meant for people living "under" it. There's a lot to reject, even hate, and certainly laugh at, but it's so pitiful and horrible to deny, to pretend, to lie.

* We had gone on a "free" (because they don´t pay their staff anything, so they survive off of tips) bike tour earlier in the day, which had some highlights, but was disturbingly full of pro-capitalist propaganda - the same kind of nonsense my parents were fed when they were forced to hide under their desks because the Russians were about to bomb them to bits and somehow the desk would save them. We were told that millions of East Germans flocked to the West because the west had "Levi's and Coke" and in the east they only had "polyester pants and lemonade," and other such gems of wisdom. There were repeated references to how ugly the communist architecture was and how it was poorly built because the communists didn't have all the great wealth and technology that the west has.

Still, as tours go, it was mostly interesting, with lots of info. about the Berlin Wall and Nazism. Maybe my favorite thing was the "memorial to the murdered Jews of Europe," which was an intentionally vague field/grid of some 2700 grey concrete slabs of various heights (but same dimensions otherwise) right in the middle of the busiest area of Berlin.
I also really loved the memorial to the 20,000 books the Nazis burned in 1933. It was a whole bunch of empty shelves, enough to hold 20,000 books, and it was underground, so you looked at through glass on the ground in a plaza. There was also a plaque there with the quote, "if you start by burning books, you'll end by burning bodies."

In all, Berlin is really intense. So much of the tour took me to places where horrible atrocities had happened, or really ugly attempts at war or totalitarianism. It was hard to know how to take it all seriously enough on this brief tour through the city with a bunch of ignorant and arrogant Americans.