Saturday, on a beautiful spring evening, I was one of 17,000 Berliner who came out to the amphitheatre at Wuhlheide to watch Peter Fox, city poet extraordinaire. The concert was great, with the inevitable and anticipated highlight Schwarz zu blau, Berlin's unofficial anthem, in which he sings of all this city's vices, only to conclude: ich weiß, ob ich will oder nicht, dass ich dich zum atmen brauch - whether I like it or not, I need you to breathe... Yes. :)
The doorbell rings. Through the peephole you see two strangers. You don't want to open the door because they look like they might be Jehovahs. But maybe they're not. Maybe it's something important. So you open the door anyway.
"Blablabla... God... blablabla..." You were right, they are Jehovahs.
You don't want to be saved and you don't want to unsave them. You just want them to go away. You consider slamming the door in their face, but they're people too, God's people no less. So you wait for them to pause and you think about the nicest way to tell them to fuck off.
The pause comes. They've asked you a question you didn't bother to listen to. Something about God, obviously. They look at you with open, expecting faces. You say you're not interested and wish them a nice day anyway. You quickly start closing the door, cutting off any possibility of further discussion. They wish you a nice day too. Their last words are cut off by the sound of the door closing.
But no matter how fast you close the door, a bit of guilt always manages to slip in. Damn you, catholic upbringing.
Last weekend Joke and Katrien came for a visit. The sun was out and scorching most of the time and my city was showing itself at its best. The girls loved it, and who wouldn't? From the irresistible charm of my neighbourhood - unique little shops, sunny terraces, broken beer bottles and abundant graffiti - to the clashing sights in the centre of town - historic and modern, communist and capitalist, reviled and admired, abominable and breathtaking - this city is unlike any other. I love it and I call it home.
And I take pride in it, and in the life I'm building here. I want to show my friends how good life is here and let them know that I am happy. Next opportunity: tomorrow, when the family comes over for a long weekend. :)
It's another beautiful sunny day and it promises to be a hot one, and not just because of the sun. It's the eve of May 1st, Labour Day, in Berlin also known to some as Mayhem Day.
On the eve of May 1st it's something of a tradition in Berlin (or in certain parts at least) to throw stones and bottles at police and/or other symbols of our cruelly oppressive capitalist society. You may also care to set fire to a few expensive automobiles or smash the windows of offensively bourgeois boutiques. Well, it's a tradition, so nobody's really perturbed by it anymore, except perhaps those unfortunate enough to find their private property damaged.
Except, this year... well, there's something in the air. The powers that be are holding their breath, fearful that this year will be... special. There have been signs throughout the year of increased 'subversive' activity. Anarchists (Autonome, they call themselves) have been setting fire to luxury cars and the vehicles of police and... public transport companies - another enemy of the People, it seems.
There has also been vandalism against some popular bars in Friedrichshain and new posh housing projects in my beloved Prenzlauer Berg. These are singled out as symptoms, if not the cause, of the continuing Gentrifizierung of Berlin. Twenty years after the Wall came down Berlin is still in transition, ever changing and evolving. In recent years it's gained the reputation of one of the hippest cities on the planet and has attracted a new generation of immigrants, from backpackers and partygoers who are just passing through, to yuppies who are here to stay - at least for as long as Berlin is the place to be.
Prenzlauer Berg and Friedrichshain are probably the districts which have changed most since the Wall fell. Many of the dilapidated houses have been renovated and upgraded, and with their great array of bars, restaurants, clubs and small shops these are the most popular areas to live in nowadays. And, sadly, also some of the most expensive. Prices have increased significantly in the last few years and there's no indication that that's going to change soon. So there is definitely legitimate concern that these central parts of the city will one day soon become unaffordable for all but the superwealthy, as is already the case in London and Paris.
Nobody seems particularly happy with this evolution, but no one seems to know how to stop it either. Even the left wing parties (who hold the majority in Berlin) seem uneager to take any kind of legislative action. And so a few radical groups have taken to random acts of vandalism, which they excuse with vague anticapitalist and antiauthoritarian ideas. Nothing new there, but with the recent financial crisis and the public uproar over bank managers and their bonuses these forces seem to be growing stronger.
There's an anticapitalist demonstration planned for tomorrow in the centre of town - motto: 'We won't pay for your crisis' - and another demo of the extreme right wing party NPD in another part of town. And then there's also the finals of the Euroleague basketball this weekend. One of tonight's semifinals is between two rivalling Athens clubs, known for their violent hooligans...
So... Berlin is holding it's breath. Maybe it'll be a quiet 1st May after all, but these street posters don't bode well...
In any case I'll be careful not to park my car next to a BMW or a Mercedes tonight...
Good news: Pro Reli has failed miserably in its attempt to promote religion to semi-compulsory status in Berlin high schools. In the end they didn't even come close. They needed some 612,000 (i.e. 25% of all Berliners with voting rights) and a majority in yesterday's referendum, and they got neither. Just a little over 700,000 people came out to cast their vote and 51.3% voted against the proposal.
The biggest surprise - to me at least - is what the electoral map looks like. You can trace the trajectory of the Berlin Wall almost precisely: former West-Berlin districts voted overwhelmingly yes (i.e. for religion), former East-Berlin districts voted overwhelmingly no. The only exceptions are Mitte and Kreuzberg-Friedrichshain, which happen to be mash-ups of former East and West districts...
On Sunday the people of Berlin get to vote on religion. To be precise, on religion as a subject in school. As it is now, all pupils in Berlin get Ethik (ethics, zedenleer) as a compulsory subject. They may also choose to take a religion of their choice as an additional subject. So everybody happy, no? Apparently not.
Religious groups (mostly catholic and evangelical) have been lobbying for some time to make religion a compulsory subject, i.e. pupils would have to choose between Ethik and a religion of their choice. Early this year the Pro Reli movement finally collected enough signatures to force a referendum on the issue.
The debate has been heating up in the months leading up to Sunday's vote, with both sides claiming to be fighting for Freedom. Pro Reli claims it's making a stand for freedom of religion. The governing left wing majority is warning that a yes vote would rip apart the fabric of society and divide future generations of Berliner along religious lines. And although that may be overdramatizing the situation ever so slightly they are of course right.
Pro Reli's pro choice stance is nothing more than a marketing trick. In fact they want to do away with pluralism. The only subject which stands to lose by this so-called choice is Ethik, where all pupils are acquainted with all major religions and philosophies and where independent thinking and tolerance are encouraged. What the Pro Reli movement is saying is that Ethik is not compatible with religion and therefore pupils (or their parents) will have to choose.
This is a choice Berlin cannot afford. In a city with 195 different nationalities, where approximately 1.3 million are officially affiliated with one of the major religions (evangelical, catholic, muslim, jewish) we cannot afford to let each retreat to his own set of values. When violence against gays in Berlin is on the rise, particularly in predominantly muslim neighbourhoods, we cannot afford to stop teaching the common values this society is built on and we cannot allow anybody to turn a deaf ear.
So I hope the majority will vote Nein on Sunday, which would be a Ja for Ethik.
As a kind of postscript to last Sunday's visit to the Deutsche Sprache exhibition we went to a reading by Jonathan Franzen last night, entitled Sex, Literatur und die Deutsche Sprache. Yep, in German.
Jonathan Franzen is currently in Berlin to work on his next novel. He studied German literature in college and spent a year in München in the early 1980s. Last night he read from the German translation of his last book, The Discomfort Zone, commenting on certain sections and answering questions afterwards.
Mr Franzen was very shy but oh so sweet, endearing, charming and funny. His German is quite good, but as the night went on and fatigue crept in he began to struggle more and more. Still he courageously continued in German, only briefly reverting to English a few times when he really got stuck. I knew exactly how he must have felt. I even recognized some of the mistakes I've made so often - das Idee instead of die Idee...
In the Q&A round after the reading somebody asked what his impressions of Berlin were. And his answer was surprising. He said Berlin was like "a slow party". The city seems at times quite empty to him - I suppose it would if you're used to New York - and he said he had the feeling that the people who live in Berlin really choose to be here, and they really take the time to live, to enjoy life.
Hmm, yeah, that sounds about right. :)
(signing copies after the reading)
Over the weekend Annette and I went to an exhibition on the German language in the Deutsches Historisches Museum. Highlight for me was a 13th century copy of Van den Vos Reynaerde, written in Dietsch, the common ancestor of Dutch and German.
I like to think I've made a lot of progress in German over the past year, but the cases continue to give me a hard time, much to Annette's amusement and occasional exasperation. But I may soon have something to grin about as well: Annette's been thinking about taking a Dutch course. And I must admit that there's a part of me that can't wait for her to fall into all the traps of my language, which is so similar to hers, but not quite the same.
As we walked back from the museum to the tram I gleefully introduced Annette to some of the false friends among Dutch verbs: the Dutch zullen sounds quite like German's sollen, but in fact means werden, not to be confused with the Dutch werden, which is the past tense of worden and the equivalent of wurden. Or this one: the Dutch durven means sich trauen and has nothing to do with the German dürfen - that's mogen in Dutch, which is sometimes (but not always) the same as mögen in German.
Ah, think of all the fun we're going to have! :)
Yes, this one's about film, again.
One thing I didn't count on when I moved to Berlin was the wealth of movie going options in my new hometown. Coming out here I just knew that I would not have to hear George Clooney speak German. Although dubbing is still predominant, new films are also released in the original version, with or without subtitles.
But Berlin has so much more to offer. There are 97 cinemas in the city with a total of 284 screens (and no, I did not count them myself - not this time). So far I've explored 11 cinemas. Apart from the usual multiplexes (of which CineStar Sony Center is my favourite) Berlin has a wide variety of smaller independent cinemas, each with their own charm.
There are the old temples, such as Delphi near Zoo Station, which has a vintage painted poster of Billy Wilder's Berlin classic One Two Three hanging in the lobby, or Kino International on Karl-Marx-Allee, a wonderful piece of Ost-architecture and possibly the most beautiful cinema I've ever set foot in.
And then there are the ones with special programmes: Babylon in Mitte, with its oddball retrospectives (soccer films last month), Zeughauskino, the cinema of the Deutsches Historisches Museum at Unter den Linden, and of course my absolute favourite, Arsenal, the cinema of the Filmmuseum at Potsdamer Platz.
This week Annette and I discovered another gem: Tilsiter Lichtspiele in Friedrichshain, which claims to be the oldest cinema in Berlin (founded in 1908).
It's just a bar and a small scruffy screening room with 37 seats (yes, I counted them)... and at the back four very old but comfortable couches.
This then must be the ultimate movie going experience: sharing a dark room with other people, flickering images, the sound of the projector purring... and the comfort of a couch and someone you love to cuddle up to.
I hate to be an old drag and bitch about the weather of all things, but it was snowing yesterday.
It's the end of March, people. I know winters are supposed to be a bit harsher in Berlin than in Gent, but this is too much. My body is yearning for sunshine and a bit of warmth. There was one afternoon two weekends ago when it was warm enough to go out with my winter jacket unbuttoned, but last night it was freezing again. When will this end?
So for lack of any signs of spring we are warming ourselves these days to the prospect of another summer in Italy. Orvieto is looming big in our minds, with plans and dreams of wedding presents, wedding menus, dancing, reuniting with friends and celebrating the union of our dearest darlings. :)
First there's a few extra kilos to be shed, though. I guess last weekend's dinner party was not helpful then. I cooked a classic Flemish menu of stoverij met frietjes, Belgian beers and chocolate mousse for dessert.
I stressed all day about ingredients and my own cooking skills and then relieved the tension by stuffing myself and being a competitive little prick in the after-dinner Trivial Pursuit game, which Annette and I won... of course. ;)
After all that the plan for next weekend is... no plan. Nothing. There may be a movie, there may be an exhibition. There may be some shopping or another home cooked dinner of fish to go with that bottle of Pouilly-Fuissé that we've been saving. But there are no obligations, there's nothing planned. If anybody invites us to do something this weekend, anything, the answer is: no, thank you. This weekend is for laziness and the opposite of stress.
