Berlin
If French is the language of love then
English is the language of advertising. It's everywhere in this city.
It's plastered on signs saying things that have no business being
said in English. Except that whoever wrote those signs thought that
the hip cultural relevance that my mother tongue provides might help
him to move product to a population that might not understand the tag
line that’s seducing them. That was the first thing I noticed when
I got off the plane. The second is that, much like in 1988, there are
still two Berlins. The amalgamation process is still going on. The
West you could easily be mistaken for parts of cosmopolitan Atlanta
or New York. In the East, the concrete bunkers the Communist built as
apartment building will last for 100 years, very attractive. At any
point, a lost tourist (ahem...hem) on the train can look out the
window and immediately see which side of the old wall he's on. But
the East had some surprising advantages like a really cool art scene
and great street food. Two euro get you a handful of surprisingly
good pizza and permission to use the counter attached to the
building. There is no amount of money that can get you a chair. Two
more euros gets you a Coke or water. And they have something here
called a doenner. It's like a gyro. I said it was a gyro but was
corrected. What is the main difference? The name. I just let it go,
not worth the argument. But they taste really good.
However, most of the interesting sites
are on the expensive west side. Like the Reichstag, which is awesome.
Never thought I'd find a legislative building so interesting. I
suppose getting boring. But the Reichstag looks like it was made by
aliens, but cool, modern, aesthetically pleasing aliens. Outside it's
the same standard marble building that houses crooks in any country.
The real catch is the giant glass dome that in no way fits with the
building resting on top. It looks like its from a video game, like
there should be lightning shooting out the top of it. Inside is an
aluminum plaque of a two story tall Black Eagle which actually more
closely resembles a Foghorn Leghorn love interest (picture to
follow). Above that is a MASSIVE polished metal spike that reflects
light from the glass alien dome into the legislative chamber.
References to the sword of Damaclese went unappreciated. Or maybe
they did appreciate it. They are German. Who can tell?
I also saw a ridiculous number of
other sites including the Pergamon Museum, which contains almost an
entire Greek temple that Germany kindly “liberated” from Turkey,
the Berlin Dom which I called a cathedral but was corrected (again
main difference: name), Checkpoint Charlie, two over decorated
castles and a lot of World War II and Cold War sites. It was great.
The people I met were great too.
Granted we had our prerequisite cultural differences. Apparently they
find us to forward (First rule of the club: Don't introduce yourself.
Just start talking. What can I say, Germans are weird. Second rule of
the club: Don't talk about fight club). And they are blunt. If you
aren't sure about the shirt don't wear it in front of them. Things
like that are swiftly punished. Punished in such a way as to make you
think they hate you. But it's nothing personal, just sport (hunting
the least deadly game: me). But they always helped me and were always
more then willing to listen while I corrected them on the proper way
to say things in their language.
Oh, and their bathing suits look...
uncomfortable. Bring your own or leave your modesty. There isn't room
in your bag for both.
In Berlin, there are yellow jackets
everywhere. I mean the insect, not the old school raincoat or Georgia
Tech Alumni (saw a lot of those too). They always told me to just
leave them alone which worked up until one flew by me and I panic and
flailed like a six year old girl. So after that I tried to take their
advice. One comes by, just stay still. That's how I figured out that
yellow jackets really, really like me. No, like isn't a strong enough
word. Yellow jackets have a deep and profound emotional connection to
me. They are drawn to me, to the core of my being. Yellow jacket
poets will write sonnets about me that will make future yellow
jackets cry for the beauty of the prose hundreds of years from now.
One very cheeky winged Don Juan landed on my face and tried to crawl
into my mouth. Germans think we are stupid for spraying insecticide
so much. NOOOOO.... In America bugs don't TRY TO FORCE YOUR MOUTH
OPEN! I felt violated.
Later ya'll
Madison
