"Niemand had die Absicht, eine Mauer zu errichten," waren de befaamde woorden van SED-partijvoorzitter Ulbricht, kort voor de bouw van de Muur. Binnen enkele weken viel echter al het eerste slachtoffer. Günter Litfin werd op 24 augustus door DDR-grenswachten doodgeschoten tijdens zijn vlucht van Oost naar West.

Keine blasse Ahnung
In het Berlijn van vandaag is weinig te merken van de 'Jahrestag des Mauerbaus'. De meeste toeristen hebben 'Keine blasse Ahnung' en fotograferen Checkpoint Charlie, zoals op elke andere dag.

Symbool
Natuurlijk zijn er de officiële plichtplegingen. Kransen worden gelegd door de Berlijnse burgervader Klaus Wowereit (SPD) en andere politici. De president van de Bondsdag, Norbert Lammert (CDU), noemt de Muur een symbool van "Entsetzlicher politischer Verirrung und damit verbunden mit vielen menschlichen Tragödien". Maar om hoeveel slachtoffers gaat het nu?

Checkpoint Charlie vs. Gedenkstätte
De instanties komen er niet uit, zo meldt der Tagesspiegel. Volgens Alexandra Hildebrandt, directeur van het Mauermeseum, stierven er 1.303 mensen. Waarvan 185 DDR-burgers tijdens hun vluchtpoging over de Ostsee, 74 bij de buitengrens en 222 bij de Berlijnse Muur zelf.

Het Gedenkstätte Berliner Mauer en het Zentrum voor Zeithistorische Forschung in Potsdam geven andere cijfers. Zij gaan uit van 136 dodelijke slachtoffers bij de Berlijnse Muur. Het verschil in de aantallen die de organisaties naar buiten brengen, zit in het feit dat Hildebrandt lichamen meetelt van overledenen die zijn gevonden in de grenswateren en DDR-grenswachten die zelfmoord pleegden. "Viele waren überfordert und haben Selbstmord begangen, auch sie sind Opfer," reageert Hildebrandt in der Tagesspiegel.

Meer slachtoffers
Het Zentrum voor Zeithistorische Forschung ziet dit anders. Zo zegt een medewerker: "Wer unter den Grenzern Selbstmord beging, tat dies meist aus privaten Gründen. Außerdem sind Wasserleichen ungeprüft zu Maueropfern erklärt worden.“

HIldebrandt laat weten dat haar onderzoek nog niet is gesloten. Ze verwacht dat het aantal dodelijke slachtoffers de komende jaar alleen nog maar zal stijgen.

Zie ook: 'Die Berliner Mauer: feiten op een rij'

(Bron: Der Tagesspiegel)

Go on then. ;)

If you're in the dark, and by which I mean asking the question "...when the fuck was Rio in Germany?.." I'll explain. I was away from the 17th to the 21st. Hence the lack of updates on the days surrounding those dates. We went to Brandonburg gate, the Berlin TV Tower, Charlottenburg Palace, some crappy wee lake, Sachenhausen Concentration Camp, Berlin Zoo and Checkpoint Charlie. We went with a couple of lenient teachers so the crack was thick and fast. There's enough to write a whole book on it, never mind a blog. Hence the request. You wanna know, and I'll let you know.

Bundestag/Regierungsviertel: Echt schön gestaltet (Architektur) und ich weiß jetzt noch sicherer, dass Politiker gerne und viel um den heißen Brei herum reden. Liegt wohl in der Natur des Debattierens.

Museumsinsel: Pergamon Museum. Verdammt ist das riesig! Mit den richtigen Worten vom Lehrer eingeleitet (kein wörtliches Zitat, war eigentlich besser formuliert): "Hier seht ihr, was zur Kaiserzeit an antiker Kunst geraubt wurde."

Checkpoint Charlie: Ist das überhaupt ein typischer Schulklassenpilgerort? Auf jeden Fall aber ziemlich langweilig. Total eng, überfüllt, zu viel Text und vorallem zu viel Ostdeutsch. ;)

Story of Berlin: War meiner Ansicht nach mit Abstand am langweiligsten. Naja ich bin auch einfach zu faul zum lesen. Im Anschluss waren wir dann im "Placebo Bunker" im unteren Teil eines Parkhauses. 2 Wochen, 3600 Menschen, keine kaum Chance.

Fernsehturm: Etwas unfreundliches Personal, bietet einen guten Überblick. Preis gerechtfertigt?

Geschlafen wurde im Jugendgästehaus Central. Schön billig, eigentlich ziemlich ideal für Schulklassen/Jugendgruppen (sagt ja schon der Name), nur die "Badezimmer" könnten ruhig einen besseren Zustand haben. Vorallem ein "Thermostatischer Einhebelmischer" (das musste ich googlen...)bei den Duschen würde einiges an Wasser einsparen. Allgemein ist der Zustand der Bude dem Preis entsprechend. Was aber stört sind gewisse Angestellte: "Ich hab nen Anzug an und bin hier der Obermacker".

Berlin, Berlin, wir fahren nach Berlin :o)

Because of a business meeting with Jamba, I was once again in Berlin and also had the possibility to a enjoy a teeny city trip. Having beautiful weather and running around from ‘Unter den Linden’, through ‘Tiergarten’ to ‘Kurfürstendamm’, I saw among other things the ‘Fernsehturm’, ‘Humboldt Universität’, 'Brandenburgertor', ‘Reichtag’, ‘Potsdamer Platz’, ‘Sony Center’, ‘Checkpoint Charlie’, ‘Siegessäule’, ‘KaDeWe’, ‘Kaiser-Wilhelm-Gedächtnis-Kirche’. The evening view on the roof the Reichtag and the hot chocolate in ‘Reinhards’ at the Kempinski Hotel Bristol were just great :o) 

It so happened that the Berlin House of Representatives – across from the Federal Ministry of Finance – had a open day. So I had a quick look at the office of Walter Momper (the President of the Berlin House of Representatives), at the gallery of honorary citizens of Berlin and inside the plenary hall. Outside they had a big party with live music by police orchestra and varied catering.

A couple of weeks later someone then writes an email with some suggestions, everyone says ok and then completely ignores all the follow-up emails expecting the initial email -writer to take care of everything.

A week before arrival we book a flight and show up completely unprepared (Hell, this time I didnt even bring a phone number of the guys (I got a new phone), I was lucky someone texted me or I would have had to wonder the streets in despair).

It is then time for complaining.

It seemed that Joel had booked us a working mans' villa in an area that was mostly inhabited by the 'little people'. To make things worse it was an hour and a half away from the city in the chaos that is Berlins' public transport. Nice.

Even though we all had a chance to weigh in on the matter of accommodation It was obviously Joels fault for not arranging things too our standard when he has been trusted with such an important task. And while we were complaining most of the trip, our accomplishments were twofold:

1. We revolutionized the world of tourist picture taking

Have you seen those boring and static pictures in front of equally boring tourist attractions? Well, no more. A revolution in tourist-picture-taking called 'Jumping Pictures' is sweeping the globe, and you too can be part of it! This is how it works:

When the Photo Taker (A) is about ready to impress a photo on the 'Photo Device' the Photo Subjects (B) tighten their leg muscles. When 'A' signals the all-clear, 'B' release their leg muscle and trust themselves in an upward vertical motion. 'A' then presses a button on the 'Photo Device' after which a 'Jumping Picture' has been made resulting in glorious pictures as can be seen below.

Jumpin' it In front of Checkpoint Charlie.

2. We rocked happy hour like it has never been rocked before

Because of the 'housing-situation' we had decided to only leave the house once a day. We go out to the city in the morning and come back the next. Since you can only take jumping pictures for so long there had to be a fair amount of drinking.

Think of Happy hour. An upscale sushi & cocktail bar at 6. Five guys. 2 hours. A table full of cocktails & sushi and a bill that could support a small African nation. It was awesome and a real bro's weekend.

Cause True Bromance Never Dies,

Bart - "Blog-Rockin-Beats since '00"

PS. I'm happy to report that me and the Swede found a new apartment! Everyone is welcome! It's very near to Frederiksberg Center, very roomy and in a great area and building. It's only for five months though so we are on the lookout for a new one (tips anyone?).  Also, I'm coming to Holland the 29th of May, hit me up on +4531667820 for an opportunity to meet the kid. First come, first serve ;).

(Theatre of Pompey)

Random phrases one picks up in life sometimes stay with you and keep playing in that background song of the mind. A few such words in my own little background ditty pull me to a Europe I want to explore.

The Ides of March : 'Beware the Ides of March' said a soothsayer to Julius Caeser. And sure enough on the 15th of March (the 15th day of a few months were called Ides by the ancient Romans), Caesar was assassinated in the Theatre of Pompey in Rome. There are many reasons to visit Rome, but for me personally, none as compelling as the vision of the soothsayer talking to Julius Caesar and the ensuing murder in one of classical buildings of ancient Rome.

Checkpoint Charlie : Some of the greatest 'spy vs spy' novels of my young days had an inevitable setting. Checkpoint Charlie, that brutal and brooding bridge separating communist Berlin from its capitalist part. Germany is not a country on my top list of holiday destinations - for some reason, I can never find a great enthusiasm for it. But the one thing that I would like to explore in Germany is Checkpoint Charlie and the peculiar psyche of a city torn apart by ideologies. It does seem to be one of those defining European things.

Frosted Fields of Juniper : Paul Simon sang -

...and when you ran to me

your cheeks flushed with the night

we walked on frosted fields of juniper and lamplight

i held your hand...

And no one one growing up in an urban (& the slightly westernised part of) Indian metro in the seventies and eighties could have escaped the good Paul. Nor did I. And have wanted to see 'a frosted field of juniper' ever since. Of course, once I figured out that Gin is made from Juniper berries, the idea kinda took firmer root (so to speak).

They grow in northern Europe and there is a little town in a quiet corner of Europe, where a granny's house sits in the middle of a field of Juniper.

Anyone for my European trip?

So, only 4 months after we set the wheels in motion (ie, jumping through all the required hoops) my new Fuehrerschein is here.

It started with having an American driver's license from a state that has reciprocity with Germany. Then having that translated and 'notarized' and taking that to the ADAC with my passport (and all the other official documents that they said they would not need but did). Then we (the German and I, because they were only in German) filled out forms, paid our fees, and went off, expecting to be notified of the license arrival in 11 weeks. We were told it could not be mailed, which was itself problematic, of course, because we were expecting to leave Berlin before it would arrive. I would then, apparently, need to fly back to Berlin to pick it up.That was mid-November.

In mid-January we received notification that the license would be held up because my motorcycle certification could not be transferred unless I took a written and practical test, so I said that I would take the license without the certification.

We received the letter stating that the license was in March 19th. What with all of our illnesses and the holidays, I went to the correct Landsamt, off Friedrichstrasse, to pick it up Monday. It's located just down the street from Checkpoint Charlie (so now I know the U-Bahn stop for that museum).

After going in the wrong entrance and being sent around, providing my letter, my passport, and my driver's license in one waiting room, I was sent to another. In that room a gentleman asked who I was, handed me my Fuehrerschein and bade me a cheery fare-well, while retaining my US license.

In my oh so pitiful German, I tried to explain to him that I actually needed to keep my US license. After my second sentence, he sent me along to another room. In that room, a woman explained to me, in extremely rapid German, that Germany would allow me to have only 1 license and that I should use my German license when visiting the US.

Once again, in my so slow German, I explained that I needed the license, that the German one did not have my motorcycle certification, that US citizens are not allowed to drive on German license, that although my husband, with a visa, could use a foreign license, I a US citizen was specifically not allowed to.

She offered me the option of paying 100Euros every time I needed my USA license and that they could keep it somewhere that would require my asking for it a week or two in advance, which I said was both exorbitant (zu tueur fur mich) and unbelievable (unglaublich). I asked her what she suggested I do, in a city where the average apartment costs 300Euro a month, and she just shrugged. So I said thank you and left.

I assume that the answer is to get another US license when I am in the States and I assume that is what her shrug was suggesting that I do and I think that's just great: to need to break the law in order to be legal.

Another typical German experience where the letter of the law absolutely is more important than the meaning behind it. Sometime soon I will blog about our experience with German banks and with German American Express.

So, only 4 months after we set the wheels in motion (ie, jumping through all the required hoops) my new Fuehrerschein is here.

It started with having an American driver's license from a state that has reciprocity with Germany. Then having that translated and 'notarized' and taking that to the ADAC with my passport (and all the other official documents that they said they would not need but did). Then we (the German and I, because they were only in German) filled out forms, paid our fees, and went off, expecting to be notified of the license arrival in 11 weeks. We were told it could not be mailed, which was itself problematic, of course, because we were expecting to leave Berlin before it would arrive. I would then, apparently, need to fly back to Berlin to pick it up.That was mid-November.

In mid-January we received notification that the license would be held up because my motorcycle certification could not be transferred unless I took a written and practical test, so I said that I would take the license without the certification.

We received the letter stating that the license was in March 19th. What with all of our illnesses and the holidays, I went to the correct Landsamt, off Friedrichstrasse, to pick it up Monday. It's located just down the street from Checkpoint Charlie (so now I know the U-Bahn stop for that museum).

After going in the wrong entrance and being sent around, providing my letter, my passport, and my driver's license in one waiting room, I was sent to another. In that room a gentleman asked who I was, handed me my Fuehrerschein and bade me a cheery fare-well, while retaining my US license.

In my oh so pitiful German, I tried to explain to him that I actually needed to keep my US license. After my second sentence, he sent me along to another room. In that room, a woman explained to me, in extremely rapid German, that Germany would allow me to have only 1 license and that I should use my German license when visiting the US.

Once again, in my so slow German, I explained that I needed the license, that the German one did not have my motorcycle certification, that US citizens are not allowed to drive on German license, that although my husband, with a visa, could use a foreign license, I a US citizen was specifically not allowed to.

She offered me the option of paying 100Euros every time I needed my USA license and that they could keep it somewhere that would require my asking for it a week or two in advance, which I said was both exorbitant (zu tueur fur mich) and unbelievable (unglaublich). I asked her what she suggested I do, in a city where the average apartment costs 300Euro a month, and she just shrugged. So I said thank you and left.

I assume that the answer is to get another US license when I am in the States and I assume that is what her shrug was suggesting that I do and I think that's just great: to need to break the law in order to be legal.

Another typical German experience where the letter of the law absolutely is more important than the meaning behind it. Sometime soon I will blog about our experience with German banks and with German American Express.

So, only 4 months after we set the wheels in motion (ie, jumping through all the required hoops) my new Fuehrerschein is here.

It started with having an American driver's license from a state that has reciprocity with Germany. Then having that translated and 'notarized' and taking that to the ADAC with my passport (and all the other official documents that they said they would not need but did). Then we (the German and I, because they were only in German) filled out forms, paid our fees, and went off, expecting to be notified of the license arrival in 11 weeks. We were told it could not be mailed, which was itself problematic, of course, because we were expecting to leave Berlin before it would arrive. I would then, apparently, need to fly back to Berlin to pick it up.That was mid-November.

In mid-January we received notification that the license would be held up because my motorcycle certification could not be transferred unless I took a written and practical test, so I said that I would take the license without the certification.

We received the letter stating that the license was in March 19th. What with all of our illnesses and the holidays, I went to the correct Landsamt, off Friedrichstrasse, to pick it up Monday. It's located just down the street from Checkpoint Charlie (so now I know the U-Bahn stop for that museum).

After going in the wrong entrance and being sent around, providing my letter, my passport, and my driver's license in one waiting room, I was sent to another. In that room a gentleman asked who I was, handed me my Fuehrerschein and bade me a cheery fare-well, while retaining my US license.

In my oh so pitiful German, I tried to explain to him that I actually needed to keep my US license. After my second sentence, he sent me along to another room. In that room, a woman explained to me, in extremely rapid German, that Germany would allow me to have only 1 license and that I should use my German license when visiting the US.

Once again, in my so slow German, I explained that I needed the license, that the German one did not have my motorcycle certification, that US citizens are not allowed to drive on German license, that although my husband, with a visa, could use a foreign license, I a US citizen was specifically not allowed to.

She offered me the option of paying 100Euros every time I needed my USA license and that they could keep it somewhere that would require my asking for it a week or two in advance, which I said was both exorbitant (zu tueur fur mich) and unbelievable (unglaublich). I asked her what she suggested I do, in a city where the average apartment costs 300Euro a month, and she just shrugged. So I said thank you and left.

I assume that the answer is to get another US license when I am in the States and I assume that is what her shrug was suggesting that I do and I think that's just great: to need to break the law in order to be legal.

Another typical German experience where the letter of the law absolutely is more important than the meaning behind it. Sometime soon I will blog about our experience with German banks and with German American Express.

Über die Friedrichstraße und den Checkpoint Charlie ging es weiter zum Alexanderplatz.

Mittagessen bei Burger King bevor es mit der U-Bahn zur Ebertstraße ging. Von da war mal wieder laufen angesagt. Am Stadion Friedrich-Ludwig-Jahn-Sportpark vorbei zum Mauerpark, über die Bernauerstraße Richtung Gedenkstätte Berliner Mauer.

Der Abschluss des heutigen Tages wurde mit dem 100er Bus vom Alex Richtung Bahnhof Zoo zurück gelegt. Noch kurz in den Spandaue Arkaden einkaufen bevor wir der Abend ganz gemütlich ausklingen ließen. Bis morgen zum Spieltag.

Glück auf

"der Schalker"

Die Sandsäcke machen klar, auf welcher Seite sich der "Feind" befand.

In wie vielen Filmen und Reportagen habe ich diesen Grenzübergang gesehen?
Ohne Grenze verliert diese Sehenswürdigkeit von ihrem Schrecken. Zum Glück.
Nur noch eine Bretterbude mit Historie.

Wer mehr über den berühmten Checkpoint Charlie in Berlin erfahren möchte, kann bei wikipedia nachlesen.

Freshened up to kick start our day and decided to go through past of Germany. Took metro and got off at Potsdamer platz. Had coffee at Starbucks just outside the metro exit as it was too cold.

From here we walked to Checkpoint Charlie - a crossing point between East and West Germany during the Cold War and Berlin Wall Memorial. The scenes blur as present dissolves into the past. Images flash through our mind of 1989 when news flashed with headlines of demolition of Berlin wall. The wall no longer divides east and west instead the city straddles past and future.

As this is close to Friedrichstrasse known for upmarket shopping area like Lafayette; strolled there on our return towards metro station of postdamer platz we visited Helmut john’s Sony centre - skyline is a mixture of buildings marked by WWII shrapnel and glass-steel giants - a symbol of new Berlin office-cum–shopping centre.

In Berlin, the past is everywhere like Gendarmenmarkt - a classical square in Berlin whose name dates back when city was occupied by Napoleon. This square is bordered by two cathedrals - the French Cathedral and German Cathedral with Konzerthaus (Concert Hall) - home of the Berlin Symphony Orchestra between the two cathedrals.

Then we visited darling of berlin - bust of Nefertiti which was adorned at the Exhibition Hall of Kulturforum (culture forum - This museum often houses temporary exhibitions during which the permanent collection is usually not on display) near to Potsdamer Platz as Egyptian museum was closed.

On way to Brandenburg we went to see Siegessäule (Victory Column) close to Tiergarten which stands in centre where five roads meet.

After having late light meal, we once again set off to see the past which expresses the euphoria and great hopes for a better future for all people of the world. This city’s divider was also the world’s longest canvas that stretched for miles covered with graffiti painted on east side - open air Gallery close to station Ostbahnhof.

Came back to Zoologischer Garten took some night mode shots of Kaiser Wilhelm church and after all sight seeing it was time to eat; had awesome Portuguese dinner at one small restaurant nearby and then headed towards our hotel.

Hier gibt´s mal Videos. Video 1 zeigt eine Mini-Stadtrundfahrt mit der Linie M41: Hauptbahnhof - Kanzleramt - Schweizerische Botschaft - Bundestag/Reichstag - Brandenburger Tor - Denkmal für die ermordeten Juden Europas (im Dunkeln, Anm.) - Potsdamer Platz.

 [googlevideo=http://video.google.de/videoplay?docid=6889654522139953262]

Video 2 zeigt einen Teil der Gedenkstätte an die Berliner Mauer in der Bernauer Straße.

Video 3 zeigt das Ganze von oben.

Video 4 zeigt die Markierung der Berliner Mauer am Checkpoint Charlie. Diese Markierungen gibt es überall, wo früher die Mauer stand. Man kann so auf bedrückende Art und Wiese erahnen, welche Dimensionen die Teilung der Stadt angenommen hatte.

Video 5 zeigt das Brandenburger Tor mit musikalischer Untermalung.

Video 6 zeigt das Olympiastadion.

Video 7 zeigt James Ruskin im Tresor Berlin.

Several weeks later, my exhange group made an 11-hour bus trip to Berlin. On the East German border at Checkpoint Alpha, prominently armed, grave border police in fitted olive uniforms boarded our bus and, without looking at or speaking to anyone, collected all of our passports and took them off the bus. They made us wait more than an hour, our anxiety growing, before they returned with the box and waved us through. Each passport received an East German stamp. The road from there to Berlin was bounded by walls so tall that we couldn't see over them even from our bus seats way up high. I guess the communists didn't want you to see the glorious living conditions on the inside, or everybody would want to move there. Several hours later down that road we were easily waved through the checkpoint at the West Berlin border.

A few days later we crossed into East Berlin to see the sights. At the famous Checkpoint Charlie, stone-faced border police once again boarded our bus, collected all our passports, and made us wait for a long time before they returned our passports, stamped again.

In East Berlin I walked in the Alexanderplatz, stood in line to buy a communist propaganda rag, er, newspaper (the top story that day was essentially how President Reagan was an idiot), drank beer and laughed with teenaged East Berliners, and tried to use a fetid underground open-pit public restroom. Shudder. I held it until we got back to the west.

In Berlin, I bought a book called Durchschaut die Uniform, or See Through the Uniform, telling stories of border guards -- not only about the distasteful jobs they did, but about the people they were. The last page showed two pictures of four border guards, the first with their stony faces and the second with wide smiles. The second photo seemed so strange! But I got the book's point, which was to have a heart because these guards were real people. So I decided to put on a pleasant face for them on the way home. As we left, we passed back through Checkpoint Alpha. Dour border police boarded our bus and collected passports. When they took mine, I looked them in the eye and smiled. It was met with indifference. They just took our passports and inspected our bus for things we were not allowed to take out. Thankfully, they didn't think to inspect my shoes, into which I inserted a carefully folded East German 5 Mark bill. Currency was high on the list of things that were forbidden to take out. Today, I can't believe how stupid I was to do that. Anyway, inspection successful, they left and we were free to pass through. We made our way back across free Germany to Krefeld.

A few years later, when I renewed my passport. I was really pleased that they returned my old passport so I could keep those stamped mementos of my visit. I wish I knew where that old passport is now.

Six years later, Iraq invaded Kuwait and the United States rode in on its white horse ostensibly to save the day. It was war, and I was draftable, so I was nervous about what might come.

The next day, I went to work, where my co-workers were subdued and serious. I worked as best I could while I listened to news reports on the radio. Midafternoon, the receptionist called from the main building. "Uh, Jim?" she said. I could hear concern in her voice. She paused. "Uh... Jim, there's a man from the FBI here to see you."

My mind reeled for several seconds. My passport! They must have a file with my name on it, calling me a suspected communist! They've come to take me away!

"Jim?"

"Um. Yes. Tell him to drive across the street to this building."

I stepped outside to await my doom. Under the gray sky I paced, wondering what the internment camp would be like. Before long, a gray Chevrolet sedan turned in and parked. Out stepped a doughy man in a gray suit. He approached, showed me his ID, identified himself, and asked, "Are you James Grey?"

"Yes," I replied.

"Is there a place where we can talk privately?"

I thought, "Talk privately? Aren't you here to purge the land of communists in the name of national security?" I was growing dizzy, but I said, "Sure, come inside." I led him to an empty room and we sat down.

"Mr. Grey, do you know a man named Robert Woolf?"

I've heard stories about what happens to cars that are accidentally shifted into reverse while going 40 miles per hour. Namely, the car's transmission suddenly disintegrates, distributing its pieces along the road. This is what happened to my brain at that moment.

In shock, I managed to say, "Yes, I know Bobby." Where the heck was this going?

"I need to ask you some questions about Mr. Woolf."

Bobby, a college friend and roommate, was a sharp, smart guy who majored in computer science and is now well-respected in his field. His senior year, as he looked for his first job, he applied at the National Security Agency. He was pretty jazzed about the job, but he never heard back from them. He applied for other jobs and eventually accepted one in the Silicon Valley. He used to e-mail me complaints about the traffic out there.

"Is this about the NSA job? Don't you know that Bobby accepted another position?"

The agent paused. He may have swallowed. He said, deliberately, "Yes, every person I talk to tells me that. But I have to do these interviews anyway."

So for twenty dull minutes he asked me questions about Bobby's associations and character. I told him what I knew and he went on his way. I felt sorry for the guy having to drive all over the place talking with people Bobby knew, needlessly looking for skeletons since Bobby no longer wanted that job. I tried to empathize with the guy, but he'd have none of it. He stuck to his questions until he had no more to ask, and then he got back into his gray sedan and drove away.

I learned that it's fruitless to try to connect with a government official doing a distateful or useless job. They just want to get it over with.

But at least there was no internment camp for me!

Mi sveglio di soprassalto, il treno è fermo, sbircio fuori dal finestrino e vedo che siamo fermi alla Bahnhof Zoo. Siamo a Berlino e mi conviene scendere di corsa, prima che il treno riparta per Varsavia. Mi ritrovo fuori con i miei compagni di viaggio, sono insonnolito dopo una nottata in cui mi hanno svegliato di continuo: il controllore delle ferrovie federali, i Volkspolizisten per il controllo passaporti, il controllore delle ferrovie della DDR, le guardie di frontiera alleate, di nuovo il controllore delle ferrovie federali. E ogni volta a tradurre per i miei compagni, in viaggio per l’Europa con l’Inter Rail in questo luglio 1984.

Arriviamo all’aeroporto di Berlin-Tegel. E’ il mio terzo arrivo a Berlino, il primo dalla riunificazione della Germania. Ogni volta che sono venuto qui l’ho fatto con un mezzo diverso. La prima volta in pullman, arrivando dal corridoio internazionale e accolto dalle tre bandiere di Stati Uniti, Regno Unito e Francia, le potenze alleate che governavano Berlino Ovest, la seconda in treno e ora in aereo. Sarà un viaggio singolare in una città che già conosco, una sorta di pellegrinaggio nei luoghi che mi hanno colpito le altre due volte e in altre che non conosco, ma più che altro cercherò di cogliere cosa è cambiato rispetto alla Berlino di “prima”.

Lascio il mio albergo vicino al Kurfürstendamm, al centro di Berlino ovest, per prendere la metropolitana. Dalla fine della guerra tutte le linee sono interrotte per rispettare i confini tra le due Berlino, ma una linea dall’ovest prosegue sotto il territorio dell’est, senza fare fermate tranne alla stazione della Friedrichstraße dove c’è uno dei punti di passaggio. La coda è abbastanza lunga ma finalmente arrivo davanti alla porta del controllo passaporti. Si sblocca con un rumore elettrico ed entro, mi trovo faccia a faccia con me stesso e da dietro la parete a specchio mi arriva un “Ihre Reisepaß bitte!” Mi ritorna il passaporto e la porta in fondo si sblocca per lasciarmi uscire, esco con un senso di sollievo, il fatto di essere chiuso in un corridoio senza poter vedere l’interlocutore mi aveva insinuato una discreta ansia. L’Unter den Linden mi porta in Marx-Engels Platz, dominata dal Palast der Republik, un palazzone con una sconcertante facciata a vetri arancione e un enorme stemma della DDR. Il traffico del Kurfürstendamm è solo un ricordo, solo poche auto tutte uguali, Trabant celestine o verdine o grigie o beige.

Si comincia il giro con Alexanderplatz, dominata dalla torre della TV, l’edificio più alto di Berlino, visibile da tutta la città. La piazza è un enorme cantiere e ancora non ha trovato una sua fisionomia, ma è chiaro che si cerca di toglierle lo stile sovietico impresso dalla DDR. Il cammino verso la porta di Brandeburgo passa per Unter den Linden, tutto rinnovato, e per la Schloßplatz, che una volta era la Marx-Engels Platz, dominato dal duomo annerito e dallo scheletro del Palast der Republik, in attesa di essere demolito. Non si sa ancora cosa prenderà il suo posto, forse la ricostruzione del castello degli Hohenzollern. Questa piazza mi pare che rappresenti la situazione di Berlino: si sta tentando di cancellare da questa città quasi tutta la storia del ventesimo secolo, i 40 anni di DDR e, prima, gli anni del nazismo. Per trovare una storia degna di avere cittadinanza nella capitale tedesca, bisogna andare indietro a Weimar, al Kaiser Wilhelm II.

La porta di Brandeburgo riporta alla mente quelle fantastiche immagini del novembre 1989, quando proprio lì migliaia di persona scavalcavano il muro e lo rompevano a martellate. A me ricordano quando la vedevo dall’altro lato. Ci ero arrivato percorrendo un deserto viale alberato, passando davanti ad un monumento ai soldati sovietici, liberatori di Berlino, e terminando la mia passeggiata conto il muro che mi divideva dalla porta. “Achtung! Sie verlassen jetzt West-Berlin”. Attenzione, state lasciando Berlino ovest, i cartelli dell’amministrazione inglese, suonano un po’ assurdi. Non si poteva scavalcare il muro per andare a est, ma molti avrebbero voluto farlo in senso inverso. Oggi invece accanto alla porta è rinato l’hotel Adlon e, nel viale che avevo percorso 22 anni fa, c’è un palco con delle ragazze che ballano al ritmo di Britney Spears.

Niente più Zil nere con i vetri oscurati che sfrecciano a tutta velocità, niente più soldati americani e della DDR che si fronteggiano al Checkpoint Charlie. Oggi il Checkpoint è diventata un’attrazione un po’ kitch per turisti. Due ragazzotti, vestiti da poliziotto della DDR e da soldato americano, si fanno fotografare con i turisti. Mi ricordano un po’ i centurioni che fanno lo stesso al Colosseo.

La storia non abita più a Berlino. Nel 1984 vi si respirava tutta la drammaticità del ‘900 dal nazismo alla seconda guerra mondiale alla guerra fredda, con la cortina di ferro che la tagliava in due, ognuno qui poteva sentirsi James Bond, spionaggi e controspionaggi ti attraversavano la strada quotidianamente, dentro le loro auto scure. Oggi tutto questo non c’è più e molti berlinesi hanno atteso tutta la vita di potersi sbarazzare della loro storia recente.