On the Road with Julie

From my understanding, when Kennedy uttered these now famous words, some people thought he was accidentally referring to himself as a jelly doughnut. I also understand this to be false. Firstly, as I understand it, the pastries are called, ““Pfannkuchen” and not “Berliner”, but, more importantly, the use of the article, “ein” before Berliner is not actually out of place. If you were actually FROM Berlin, you would simply say, “Ich bin Berliner.” But, as a metaphorical statement, and a statement of solidarity, the “ein” makes sense. As I understand it, it is simply to claim alignment in spirit.

Each time I arrive in a new language and I hop on the phone with Ryan, he does his darnedest to be supportive to my linguistic pursuits. He starts uttering whatever he can find in his collection of words and phrases in that language. So, when I first hopped on the phone with him from Germany, Kennedy’s famous words came enthusiastically my way across the miles. Of course, as I continued trying out a few sentences of conversation with him in German and immediately maxed out his capacity, that phrase was also the only thing he had available to respond with.

Despite his limited (read “non-existent”) knowledge of German, his phrase was apropos to my short stay in the historically dense city.

I only had 2 full days in Berlin. I was hungry to see as much of it as I could, but more hungry to have a day of rest. I spent all day Friday laying in bed and watching German videos to warm up my German-learning brain. The only thing I put on my schedule that day was dinner at a restaurant around the corner. The stars were aligned and I just happened to book my Airbnb about 500 meters away from a local restaurant that served gluten free versions of classic German food. So, I got to kick off my stay with a gluten free, dairy free Schnitzel served with the traditional accompaniments.

I was determined to be a proper tourist all day Saturday, as much as I could. I headed over to Get Your Guide to look at all the different touristy things I could do. I booked a 3 hours bike tour followed by a 2 hour walking tour of the city’s World War II and Cold War sites.

I wasn’t sure how different the tours would be, if at all, but I went for it anyways. They ended up taking me by most of the same sites, but it was still worth it. Each guide had slightly different details to offer and, in a city where each site is loaded with so much emotional weight, it was good to visit them in rounds.

I don’t really have words to express the experience of visiting some of these places. It is one thing to study history. It is one thing to think about history. It is one thing to appreciate and value history. It is another thing entirely to stand in the physical place where that history occurred. To stand in the place where 20,000 books were burned, to stand and look at a building were horrifying plans were made, to stand at the point where parents and children, husbands and wives, friends and loved ones, were torn apart, overnight, for 28 years by an unforgiving iron curtain, to stand above ground where one person who decided to use their one life to bring suffering and destruction to the lives of millions and millions and millions of other lives begrudgingly surrendered their own life to defeat – well, that’s all quite another thing. I was intimidated to visit Berlin because I was intimidated to feel all of these feelings. But I felt them and Berlin does an amazing job of presenting, sharing and stewarding its history as a hub for some of the most impactful and intense history the world has ever known.

And, of course, around that history, there is an alive and vibrant city going about the business of thriving and turning through life day-by-day. I would have loved to have more time to get to know the city as a tourist. I would have loved to have more time to get to explore the history and the sights. I would have loved to have more time to get to know life in the city today.

It was cold and grey when I was there, so it is hard to fully get to know the place, knowing that, for many places, they come most alive when the weather invites it. The cold, grayness warmed me in its own way, as, for the first time on the trip, I was someplace that reminded me of home. Not in the layout, not in the buildings, but in that familiar winter gray. The buildings in Berlin were unlike any I’ve seen so far. When I first arrived at my AirBnB and walked the streets lined with equal-heighten buildings, all lined up in a long rows, it felt like walking through a line of massive soldiers standing at attention, shoulder-to-shoulder. While I appreciated it, I often found the architecture intense.

At one point, I had the thought that I felt like I was in the former Soviet Union. Then, I realized, gosh, I might be! I looked it up and realized that I was, at that time, in what was once East Berlin, many of whose buildings got built or rebuilt during the Soviet era after World War II.

There was so much I didn’t have time for, but I had a wonderful time in Berlin and felt really good about all that I managed to squeeze into my two short days there. Maybe next time Ryan and I get on the phone, I’ll be the one to say, “Ich bin ein Berliner.”