Berlin - Gut, Schlechtes & Schokolade***

Last weekend was a three day Bank Holiday weekend here in England and Snake had been bugging us to go to Berlin for some time so off we went. We lucked out and the weather was extremely warm. In fact, we were unprepared completely for the weather to be warm - no sunscreen, mostly long sleeved tops, jeans etc. It was nice problem to have.

Berlin is a surprisingly interesting city. It is not as quaint as some of the other European cities we have visited, it doesn't have any of that old city charm. Mostly because quite a bit of it was bombed flat or burned during WWII. So quite a few of the buildings are a bit more modern than we are used to or if they "look" old, really they are restored or remodeled to look old. It also seemed sort of empty, the streets aren't full or bustling. There is history all over the city and it was fascinating getting a first hand look at it.

Our hotel was very close to Checkpoint Charlie, so that was our first stop.
Checkpoint Charlie was a crossing point between East and West Berlin, when the Berlin wall was still in place. There were other crossing points but this was the one assigned to foreigners and military personnel. There is an interesting display nearby on the fences, detailing the history of the Berlin wall and of the checkpoint. This hut is a replica, the actual hut is in a museum nearby. This one makes a nice photo op for the tourists, as do the "soldiers" standing in front. The uniforms are not really authentic and they appeared to this military brat to be a weird combo of US military and policeman. I think the other uniform is supposed to be Russian but I was a little unsure. The soldiers have a friend nearby who for a small fee will stamp your passport with "authentic" Checkpoint Charlie passport stamps. Kiki was all for it and had it stamped in her passport. Snake looked at it scornfully and told me he didn't want any "unofficial" stamps in his passport. But he was happy to take a paper with the stamps on it. For my sake.

After Checkpoint Charlie we wandered over to the Brandenberg Gate. This is the last gate in a series of gate through which one would enter Berlin. It was built in the late 1700s and has been the scene of many historic events over the past few centuries! It was the scene of the famous Reagan speech when he implored "Come here to this gate. Mr Gorbachev, open this gate! Mr. Gorbachev, tear down this wall!" There was a big bike race the day we were there and the grounds around the gate had a little festival so we wandered through there a bit. As usual with any kind of race, there were lots of sponsors handing out free goodies. Snake picked up a noise maker that much to Kiki's dismay was used successfully throughout the weekend to annoy and irritate her. The gate opens onto Pariser Platz, which is surrounded by a few embassies (the U.S. embassy is there, the modern monstrosity that it is) and some cafes and shops. We stopped and had some German sausage & beer and watched the world go by. And when the world was going by, so did these guys wearing weird white masks and operating this puppet kind of thing. Each person operated one limb or section of the body. I am not quite sure why, I guess it is some kind of performance art. Performance art is lost on me, much in the same way modern art is lost on me. I am not smart enough.

The next morning we headed over to the Reichstag, which is the German parliament building. It was the seat of the German government from 1894 until 1933 when it was set fire supposedly by a communist who was tried, convicted and executed for the crime. But he was most likely framed by the Nazi party, who used the "crime" as an excuse to suspend human rights in Germany. The government met elsewhere for a while and the building was further damaged by bombing in WWII. The building was restored in the 1960s but by that time Berlin was a divided city and the Bundestag, the German parliament, had been meeting in Bonn for quite a few years. After German Unification in 1991, the Bundestag voted and returned to the Reichstag. We went to the top and you get a beautiful view of the city.



So the Berlin wall. . . For something that dominated a city for so long and being pretty much the symbol of the city, it is really hard to find the Berlin Wall. Most of it has been torn down but there are remnants you can you go to, if you have the patience. We had heard that there was a pretty good size section still remaining in another area of Berlin that is not really near all of the historical sites. So we took a train over, transferred and found it. It was pretty amazing and it really does give you a good idea of what it must have been like to have this wall, just surrounding and dividing
the area. It is not as big or tall as I would have thought but something about seeing it fills you with a sadness or despair. It was really easy to imagine how demoralizing that wall must of been to citizens on both sides. The remnants are all brightly painted with murals. I am not sure how organized the mural painting is, if there is someone in charge who assigns panels. We spent quite a bit of time wandering past the panels, looking at the art work, reading some of the graffiti. I took a few pictures.









I think this is my favorite scene. I think it looks like souls escaping through an opening on the wall. I think it is haunting.



A view of the wall from across the street.


When viewing the wall, it is easy to forget that quite a few people risked and lost their lives trying to get to the other side. I wondered how someone could possibly monitor every square inch of the wall, why wasn't it easy to slip across. In actuality, many more
people were able to cross the wall then got caught. Supposedly there were over 5000 successful escapes and only 200 or so unsuccessful. But you paid with your life. East German border guards were encouraged to use their firearms even if the escapees were women and children. Near the Reichstag, we saw an exhibit of crosses that represented some of the people died trying to cross the wall. The last death was in February 1989, just a little over six months later the wall would come down.

We also visited a local concentration camp, Sachsenhausen. Not necessarily a "fun" activity, but I think a useful and educational one. This entrance gate has a slogan which was included in the gates at many concentration camps. Translation: Work will set you free. Hmmmm. Sachsenhausen was not an extermination camp per se meaning that it was not used for the "routine" extermination of Jews, but it was a death camp all the same. It is believed that over 30,000 people were executed there for a variety of "crimes", mostly political in nature. Several thousand prisoners of war, mostly Russian, including Joseph Stalin's son, were executed here. This camp was a training center for the SS officers who would later be sent to run and serve at other camps. The conditions at the camp were deplorable and prisoners were used as laborers in local SS factories. Over 100,000 Jews died there of "natural causes" which included exposure, malnutrition, disease, pneumonia, tuberculosis etc. Their bodies were then cremated and dumped into mass graves. During some restoration work recently, they found another mass grave filled with ashes. The mass graves are marked by low cement benches. Tourists coming to the site mark these benches with stones which I think is a Jewish tradition to show that the dead are not forgotten, sort of a remembrance tribute. It was humbling to be in this place. Where so many truly innocent people lost their lives at the hands of their neighbors. It is a dark period, not just in Germany's history but in world history. We would like to think that it wouldn't have happened in our country, but I just don't know. It is important to remember these types of horrible events and to be uncomfortable and sad. So hopefully we will learn something.

Kiki has developed
a real love of European chocolate (thanks Chizz!) and loves to try the local chocolate when we go into town. So she quickly located Fassbender & Rausch. The store was huge. Truthfully, while Snake will indulge every now and then, chocolate is really not his thing. So he and I spent some time looking around and came across these chocolate sculptures in the shop. The detail is pretty spectacular. This is the Reichstag, all in chocolate. And the boat, the Titanic. It is pretty realistic. Perhaps that is what happened to the original ship. I think a chocolate ocean liner would go down pretty quick if it ran into an iceberg. Just a thought.

Okay so Snake pointed out something pretty interesting while we were there. He noticed that Hitler's name was very rarely mentioned at any of the historical monuments we visited. Most of the literature and the exhibits mention the SS, the Nazis, the 3rd Reich, Himmler, and Goebbels etc. quite prominently. But unless absolutely necessary to whatever the event being described, you don't see Hitler's name in print. We wondered if that was in conscious effort or if it was just the by product of a country trying to move past a very horrible part of its past. After he pointed it out, I made an issue of trying to see if his observation was accurate and he was right.

Our last night we had a great dinner at a very old pub, Zur Ietzten Instanz. It claims to be the oldest built in 1621 and I don't think I can argue that. It seemed very old German, dark paneling, small rooms. We had some typical German food and of course a beer or two or four.

We enjoyed Germany in a different way then we have other trips. It wasn't a slap your knee, guffawing type of a good time. But it was good learning about the city and its history, all of it -- even the distasteful parts. And we brought home some great chocolate which sweetened our memories.









****Berlin - Good, Bad & Chocolate

Spring is busting out all over, or at least from my neighbor's chimney!

See?

What Did You Say?

So this past weekend was prom at Kiki's school. They don't have Prom at English schools. Most of the preparation is fairly similar to that of a prom that might be held in middle America, shopping, shoe buying, tux renting but there are a few twists. For example they serve alcohol at prom. You heard me, I didn't stutter. I have heard a number of reasons as to why that is but the fact is it is perfectly legal for 16 year olds to drink here. Now technically the law is that they can drink only with a meal and when accompanied by someone over 18, but truthfully 16 year olds have no problem being served in any pub with or without a meal (and some bars where food isn't even served). The school will tell you that they have a hard time booking a venue without some alcohol sales. I don't buy that. With a school as well connected as this one, I am sure they have someone in the parent population who has an "in" at a hotel or owns one. I think it is that way because it has always been that way. They limit the amount of alcohol a kid can have to 2 glasses of wine and I understand they are very strict about it but I don't know how it is monitored. That is one reason why they do not allow anyone under 16 to attend prom. No matter what. If you are a junior dating a sophomore who is 15, you cannot bring the 15 year old as your date.

So in the weeks prior to the prom, Kiki & I went shopping for a dress, purse, jewelry (no you can't wear something you already have!!!), hair clips, etc. About 10 days prior to prom we went to a florist in our neighborhood to order the boutonniere for her boyfriend. The florist didn't really seem to know what we were talking about when I said I wanted to order a boutonniere but with a little bit of mimicry and some strange hand motions, she figured it out. She wasn't very helpful when we asked if there were different options or flowers that could be used. So I decided we wouldn't order it there. We went to another shop a bit closer to the school. The woman there knew exactly what I meant when I said boutonniere but she advised me in England they are referred to as "button holes". Ohhhhhhh. She was doing probably about 75% of the flowers being ordered for the prom and she seemed to have it all under control. We ordered and went on our way.

It got me thinking about the number of terms or phrases that are completely different here than in the US and without a clear understanding of the UK meaning, you could be asking for something completely different or really something that doesn't exist at all. Now, we have all heard the obvious/common ones like boot for trunk of car, or fries are called chips here but chips (like Ruffles or Lays) are called crisps. But there are some other ones I have come across that have sent me to the internet or an English friend or two for some translation. If you are invited to a fancy dress party, it is not a reason to rush out to Saks and buy a couture gown. 'Fancy Dress' means costume party. I think that one is especially confusing because I have seen some costumes in my day that were so totally un-fancy. In the UK, public schools are really private. Here a public school means that the general public can attend the school . . . as long as the student can pass the entrance exam and their parents can pay the exorbitant fees usually associated with the school. The UK version of public school is called a state school. In the US, you would get your prescription medicine from a pharmacist, in the UK he/she would be called a chemist. I always imagine my chemist with working in the back room with test tubes, pouring lime green liquid from one tube to the other, leaning back, laughing fiendishly and then coming out with my medication (even if they are pills). It gives me a little shiver.

The grocery store provides unending confusion in this area. I giggle every time I see a package of pre-made cupcakes because here they are called fairy cakes. Biscuits in the US are baked doughy, bread type items. In the UK, generally speaking they are cookies. Although there are some "savory" biscuits which are really crackers. Courgette? Zucchini. Aubergine? Eggplant. Actually I think I like these words for those items better. They sound a little ritzy, don't they? I could take my courgettes and aubergines to my fancy dress party, but I think I should leave my zucchinis and eggplant at home. Good idea?

Jinxed

It's raining today! I can't help but feel responsible after yesterday's post. Sorry England.

We Are Going for A Record

I think I can finally say "Spring has sprung in London". Now I have to say, I am a little fearful to express that out loud and so boldly but after about a whole week of bee-yoo-tee-ful days here in London, I am feeling a little light headed. Actually my whole body is feeling a bit lighter. I think it is because I haven't been wearing my coat and scarf. So I went out for a walk in the hood and took some photographic evidence of the good weather. I am thinking if it doesn't last I can at least look back at the photos fondly and remember the time there were a few good weather days in a row. The days of no umbrella carrying, ah yes - I remember it well.

This is in the little park near our neighborhood. They always do the nicest flowers here. It just seems like there is something always in bloom. The parks in London are really used by the people, like their own backyards. The weather peeks over 55 and people run out to use them. Picnics, games, reading books, just hanging out. People actually sit in the benches (not sleep on them).



See the little green building in the background? These buildings were built between 1875 and 1914. They are little taxi relief stations. They were provided so that taxi drivers, (at the time horse & buggies) could safely get some food and rest during their shifts. Obviously they didn't want the drivers to stop in at pubs because the temptation to drink might be too much so they created these little stands all over the city. At one point there were over 60 or so. A driver could stop in, get something to eat, get out of the cold or rain, and take a load off for a while safely. They were only open for taxi drivers and the general public was not allowed to use them. There are still a few around today and they are considered historical landmarks. Taxi drivers still hang out at the ones remaining and some are open to the general public for a sandwhich or snack. This one is not very far from our house and I don't think I have ever gone by it when there hasn't been a cab there.

But I must warn you. I did something rash. I took the blankets off the bed. I know, I know. You are probably thinking "Wendy!!! Wait! Are you sure you're ready? It's risky, daring, throwing caution to the wind." True, true, all true. But I am a rebel, a risk taker if you will. I mean it snowed here just a month ago, but I am feeling ready. There comes a time in your life when you are ready to take it to the next level, or in my case take it off to the next level. So I took off the heavy blanket. Then feeling a little giddy, - I went all the way. . . . I took off the electric blanket, unhooked the plugs from the wall and put it in the closet. I must admit I liked it. I think I need more, another fix. Maybe I will take off the flannel sheets next. No WAIT! What they say is true, removing the blankets are the gateway linens! Before you know it I will be putting away the comforter. I have to resist. . . . I think I will take it one day at a time, one day at a time. Give me the strength.

Jersey Girls

Last night Kiki & I went to see Jersey Boys. It is a play about Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons - how they came together as a group, their story, rags to riches and all the pitfalls along the way. What can I say? It was fantastic. Kiki wasn't sure that she would know a lot of the music and somehow my singing in the kitchen of my repertoire of Four Seasons standards didn't help and didn't inspire her to want to see the show. But she had heard from some friends that it was good so we went.

I like how the story is told from the perspective of all four of the original members. So many times when you hear the story of the group, it is usually the story of the one breakout member . It was interesting to hear how the dynamics of the group and the things that were happening to them affected all of the members. And the music. Did you know one of the founding members had a hit before the Four Seasons with a song called "Short Shorts"? Yes, the Nair song. I hadn't realized that was a real song, not just a commercial jingle. My bad. Kiki didn't realize how many of the songs she did know. I was surprised to find out how many generations the Four Seasons actually covered. Kiki was a little "creeped out" when the older generation at the theatre got up and danced during the final number.

It was a hand clapping, toe tapping, old people dancing kind of an evening. Two thumbs up from Kiki & Wendy.

He Was the Best of Authors, He Was the Worst of Husbands

So the other day, I visited Charles Dickens' house here in London. It is the last remaining of Dickens' residences in London, the rest having been all destroyed. He only lived here a short time but it was a very important time in his career. It was in this house that he wrote Oliver Twist, Nicholas Nickleby and the serialization of The Pickwick Papers began.

It is always interesting learning a bit about famous people that you have heard of all of your life, you know their work or works, but don't really know much about them. I enjoyed learning about him and found out that he was quite the character. I believe that real creative souls have something "different" about them that breeds that creative flair. Whether it be an odd personality type, a fixation or strange upbringing, in my experience the truly gifted artist, writer or musician has something in their life that they can channel or draw upon that helps them create their art. Dickens was born into a middle class family. His dad had some wealth and the family enjoyed a fairly comfortable life in London with social status and a few servants to help them get by. Apparently his dad was not a great money manager and he fell into debt and was sent to Debtor's prison. In those days the whole family went with you. So Papa & Mama Dickens and all 8 children went as well. Well not all 8, Charles, age 12, was sent to work in a boot blacking factory to provide support for the family in prison. Apparently the conditions were quite horrible and the experience scarred him for life. However, it also provided inspiration for many of his works, Oliver Twist and David Copperfield, for example. He takes the character name Fagan directly from one of his overseers at the factory. Quite a bit of responsibility for a young boy and it apparently scarred him for the rest of his life.

Eventually Dickens marries. His wife has two sisters, one of which he moves in right away to help with the wife with the household and the TEN kids as they come along. Dickens has a weird connection with his 15 year-old sister-in-law. Not that any impropriety was ever suggested but when she died unexpectedly after two years he took it very hard. He grieved at the bed where she died and he wore her ring on his finger until he died about 30 years later. I think that is a bit strange. He moved in another sister-in-law and things moved along. It was when he lived in this house that he started to find some commercial success. The Pickwick Papers had been serialized and he was putting some money in the bank. For one of the first times in his life he had some financial security. Which gave him the opportunity to do the things he enjoyed, socializing, entertaining and hanging out with 18 year old actresses.

Dickens started getting groups together to perform his works and it was in this manner that he met Ellen Ternan, a young actress that he hired to play one of the female roles. In those days, actresses were considered very low on the social and moral Victorian ladders. They were basically considered prostitutes. The gossip started when Dickens started spending more time with this actress then with his wife and family. It was quite the scandal of its day, on the level of Burton/Taylor, Woody Allen/Soon-Yi, Gary Hart/Donna Rice. Dickens initially denied the affair but he eventually separated from his wife and moved out. Interestingly enough, the kids, except the oldest son, and his sister-in-law moved with him. The sister-in-law managed his household until his death. I guess it is a good thing Dickens died first, he had run out of sisters-in-laws.

Another thing I found interesting was Dickens' travels to America. He went twice to America to do reading tours. He had discovered that there was lots of money to be made in reading his works in small gatherings. He did this in a room in his home and then took his act on the road. He decided to to America, do some readings , make some money and check out this "New World" everyone was talking about. I think he recognized quite a bit of potential in the country but there were several things that disturbed him. He spoke out quite vociferously against slavery, chewing tobacco and the American press who he felt didn't take seriously their obligation to inform the American public. He also lobbied Congress passionately about copyright laws. At that time there were no copyright provisions between various countries. So Americans could print and copy as many English authors as they wanted and not pay the authors a pence. Dickens obviously thought this was unfair and but was especially peeved about all the money he was missing out on. It fell on deaf ears and Dickens was rebuffed. It didn't stop Dickens from speaking out loud, long and often. Congress wouldn't budge but decided to fire the ultimate shot at Dickens. They told him, basically, that they thought him coming over to the US and making all that money on his speaking tour was cool but they had been thinking. Since he was earning that money on US soil, shouldn't he be paying taxes to the US government on it? Dickens hightailed it back to the UK and still was an advocate of enacting copyright laws but did it from a distance.

The house itself, truthfully, is not all that interesting. Old furniture, old clocks, his writing desk. It was learning all these tidbits that made it remarkable. We tend to romanticize our famous figures, thinking they are all "nice guys". It is surprising when we remember that they were in fact human beings, with all the good and bad that goes along with that. Dickens was, and is, still an extremely popular author. Did you know that not one of his books or short stories has ever gone out of print? That is amazing feat for any author let along an author whose last work, The Mystery of Edwin Drood, was published posthumously in 1870. Actually I think I might enjoy his works a little more knowing that he was a real person. Now - I am going to see what dirt I can dig up on Dr. Seuss.

Snake's On The Plane

Snake has some business to tend to in the United States. I don't know - something about tending to his portfolio. (Joking!) So we went off to Heathrow yesterday. Always a fun trip (not!). We get to the airport and I, of course, go into "Mom-mode" organizing him, bossing him around a bit. Finally he turns to me and says "Mom, I can handle this - backoff". So I let him. And he did - beautifully. Printed out his boarding cards at the kiosk thing, dropped his bag and made his way to the security line. With a quick hug and kiss, he was off through security - crossing that line where no moms are allowed to go.

Or so I thought. I got a call about 4 1/2 hours after his scheduled departure time. From Snake. On the plane. Apparently United loaded them all up, pulled away from the gate and then discovered a mechanical failure. Which they attempted to fix while they were still on the plane. So they had been on the plane for almost 5 hours, no food, just water and waiting. Oh, they put one of the movies on, National Treasure II. What is United trying to do - kill them??? It was decided that the flight would be cancelled, a new airplane part obtained and the flight would go out at 9:00 a.m. the next day. Bummer.

So Snake and I decided he would just take Heathrow Express home. He & his sister have taken many flights with us over the past two years, they know the airport pretty well, he knows how to get to the Heathrow Express train platform and had enough money to buy a ticket. I figured I would see him in about an hour. The train comes into Paddington station which is a short walk from our flat.

About an hour later, I get another call. From Immigration. Because he is under 18, Her Majesty's Customs officials consider Snake to be a minor, unaccompanied and they won't let him go through Immigration and Customs without knowing an adult is waiting for him on the other side. When I made Snake's reservations, I specifically called United and asked if he was an unaccompanied minor and they said no. Apparently they don't consider them minors after 14. I explained that to the Immigration officer and he said that may very well be, but the government didn't and he would be held there until I got there. I was assured he would be well taken care of. So I hustled down as quick as I could. Visions of Snake being held with drug traffickers, or shoppers trying to skirt by duty laws or grandmothers trying to bring in tea bags from countries on the quarantine list filed my head. Oh the humanity.

When I get to Heathrow, I call the number I am given and told Snake will be brought out immediately. Immediately about 40 minutes later. He is there, looking tired and a little pale. I showed my ID to a very disinterested United employee and we went off on the train. When we are settled, we discuss his "adventure". When he was told that he would not be allowed to go through customs until I got there, Snake was told to take a seat on the bench at Immigration. You know the one, it is in front of the big line where people are sent to sit until they can be suitably interrogated for whatever offense they may have committed. Snake sat there for about 2 1/2 hours. Apparently watching the Colbert Report on his Ipod. All total - he spent about 7 1/2 hours at Heathrow not going anywhere. He wasn't offered any food or even offered the opportunity to buy a snack from a vending machine. So the first stop we had to make was for a Snake snack. Fortified, he was able to see a bit of humour in the situation.

I spent some time complaining to United today about the discrepancy between their minor status and Customs & Immigrations minor definition. I really didn't get anywhere but don't worry, I am penning my letter already in my head. If I had been told Snake was considered an unaccompanied minor to begin with, I would have left to go pick him up the minute he told me the flight was canceled because I would have known they wouldn't just let him walk off the plane. Conservatively that would have saved at least 1 1/2 hours off his waiting time.

So today we had to get up even earlier today to get to Heathrow. This time I made sure he texted or called me every step of the way. His last text said they were starting to go to the runway. I waited to leave the airport until he was pretty sure the plane was going somewhere. So he is off. Or at least I think so. Keep your fingers crossed.