Berlin: A Zoo and a Wall

This royal bear stood right outside our hotel.

Our first stop this morning was to the Hauptbahnhof (main train station) to store our luggage and grab a quick bite to eat. When the kids saw a McDonald's and Dunkin' Donuts, there was no saying no. The train station, Europe's largest two-level railway station, is huge and sparkling. David commented that we could probably eat off the platform floors they were so clean. We could have spent quite a bit of time wandering through the different levels and checking out the stores, but we had plans.

Next stop, the Berlin Zoo. The Berlin Zoological Garden, which opened in 1844, is the oldest and most internationally well known zoo in Germany. With almost 1,400 different species and around 14,000 animals, the zoo presents the most comprehensive collection of species in the world.

By the end of WWII, the zoo area was completely destroyed and only 91 of 12,000 animals survived. The zoo and its aquarium were then reconstructed on the most modern principles, displaying animals in their natural environment.

Micaela with a memorial to service dogs.

Another great playground.

James and the Giant Peach

Here's almost two-year old Knut, the zoo's most famous resident. Rejected by his mother at birth here at the zoo, Knut was raised by zookeepers. He was the first polar bear cub to survive past infancy at the Berlin Zoo in more than thirty years. But a German tabloid newspaper ran a quote from an animal rights activist who said that Knut should have been killed rather than humiliated by being raised "as a domestic pet." This resulted in worldwide public outrage as fans rallied in support of his being hand-raised by humans. Children protested outside the zoo, and many e-mails and letters expressing sympathy for the cub's life were sent from around the world.

Knut became the center of a mass media phenomenon dubbed "Knutmania" that spanned the globe and quickly spawned numerous toys, media specials, DVDs, and books. It didn't hurt zoo revenue, either.

And a two-time Vanity Fair cover boy, too! But I felt quite sorry for this much bigger and less cute Knut. Less than a month ago, the trainer who raised him from infancy died suddenly, and as Knut paced back and forth in front of us, it seemed to me he was scanning the faces of the crowd. Was he looking for his caretaker?

Wow! A brown bear and wolves sharing the same enclosure? And the bear seems quite content with his situation.

Maybe not after all....Now get out.....

....and stay out!

No explanation needed.

We still had some time, so we hopped on a train and quite by mistake ended up at a Berlin Wall display.

Here on opposite sides of the Wall. These remaining pieces are situated where the Wall once stood.

People reading about the history of the Wall. We tried to explain to the kids as simply as possible what it was, but they weren't quite getting it.

Then, we came upon this photo in the display. David said, "See? People were jumping out of windows, trying to escape to the west at the last minute as the Wall was being built!" James said, "Why jump out of the window? Why didn't they just take the stairs?" We explained that in that moment, taking the extra 3 minutes to take the stairs could have meant the difference between freedom or "captivity," or possibly the difference between life and death. Ahh....they were starting to get it.

You can follow this path, which marks the former location of the Wall throughout the city. Statistics on the number of people killed at the Wall vary. Berlin's privately run Checkpoint Charlie museum puts the toll at 238 and estimates more than 1,000 people were killed at the Wall and in the heavily fortified and mined former East-West German border between 1961 and 1989.

The last person to be shot dead at the Wall was Chris Güffroy, a young East Berliner who decided to try his luck at escaping on 5 February 1989 (!), months before the Wall finally fell. He had wrongly assumed the East German regime had suspended its order to shoot would-be escapers on sight.

Yet Chris Güffroy was not the Wall's final victim. Four weeks later, 33-year-old Winfried Freudenberg died fleeing East Berlin in a gas-filled balloon. Freudenberg's balloon crashed in the West Berlin suburb of Zehlendorf and killed him instantly.

Just a few blocks away was the Holocaust Memorial consisting of 4.7 acres covered with 2,711 concrete slabs arranged in a grid pattern on a sloping field. The slabs (some say representing Jewish graves) vary in height and are designed to produce an uneasy, confusing atmosphere.

The whole sculpture aims to represent a supposedly ordered system that has lost touch with human reason.

Our stroll ended at the Brandenburg Gate. Next to the gate is the new American Embassy that was dedicated this year on July 4th.

And last, but not least, the Ampelmännchen (the little traffic light man). The East Berlin Ampelmann was created in 1961 by traffic psychologist Karl Peglau who theorized that people would respond better to the traffic signals if they were presented by a friendly character, instead of meaningless colored lights.

Following German unification in 1990, there were attempts to standardize all traffic signals to the West German forms, leading to calls to save the East German Ampelmännchen. The protests were successful, and the Ampelmännchen returned to pedestrian crossings, including western districts of Berlin. Some western German cities, such as Saarbrücken or Heidelberg, have since adopted the design.

The Ampelmännchen has become a sort of cultural icon. You can find him on t-shirts, keychains, cookie cutters, ice cube trays, post-its, etc. There's just something about the little guy that puts a smile on your face as you're crossing the street and leaves you feeling disappointed if you get the "normal" light at an intersection.


As a farewell to Berlin, we shared a packet of gummi Ampelmännchen on the train ride home.

Berlin

This morning, it was breakfast and a little sightseeing before we needed to meet up with James' team at the international school for their cross-country meet.

Becca getting an eyeful.

Every time Becca spied these banners which were hanging all over Berlin, she would call out: Guck mal! (Look!) Barbie!

"Berlin Sculpture" marks Berlin's 750th anniversary in 1987, two years before the fall of the Berlin Wall. The chain links, twisted and pulled apart, represent the turmoil of the city with its 4 sectors (American, British, French and Russian), separate but somewhat linked together.

What a forlorn golden man....until.....

Em cheered him up with a Euro.

The Emperor Wilhelm Memorial Church was constructed in 1891-1895. The broken tower was kept as a reminder of the destruction from a bombing raid in 1943 during WWII. A new octagonal church (not shown) and a freestanding hexagonal bell tower (right) were constructed in 1962 with blue-colored glass bricks.

Painted bears are found all over Berlin and visitors are welcome to climb all over them. This bear was covered with constellations.

James and his bud Fernando

Just before the race, dealing with some nerves

And they're off!

James finishing his first cross-country race in the middle of the pack.

Proud of their second place trophy.

After the race, James joined us for the rest of the weekend. We intended to go to the zoo, but it was closing early. We took this picture at the entrance anyway and we'll try again tomorrow.

We decided to take a bus tour of the city, but first had time to watch some street performers and...

....curl up with a fußball bear, and ...

....pose with a cool fountain (Emilie is always up for a photo), and...

....grab a bite to eat. Now, don't laugh. There are a handful of KFCs in the Frankfurt area, but we have yet to eat at one. In fact, the only American fast-food place near us is a McDonald's, and it's a pain to eat there (parking issues). So, we don't eat American very much at all. KFC, a distant second to Chik-fil-A I know, was a big treat for us.

By the time the bus tour got underway, the sun was setting. We couldn't get good views of the many sites due to the tarp covering the top of the double-decker bus, but the tour probably was the best use of our time. Here is Emilie in front of the Brandenburg Gate, one of the main symbols of Berlin. Berlin was celebrating their annual "Festival of Lights" and many of its sites were beautifully lit.

David was especially interested to tour through the former East Berlin. He had been in East Berlin the day before the Berlin Wall fell in November 1989 and described it as very desolate. The next night, word spread that the Wall had fallen, and David, his good friend Jim and hundreds of thousands of other people converged all along the wall to celebrate. David himself sat on the Berlin Wall that very night, right near Checkpoint Charlie.

As he drove through the area tonight, he marveled at the transformation. You can still see plenty of typical uniform East German apartment buildings, but now there is also plenty of shining new construction.

Traveling to Berlin

James was invited to participate in a cross-country meet with other international schools in Berlin, so we saw this as the kick in the behind we needed to take a weekend trip.

James left early today on the bus with the team and will spend the night at a youth hostel. God bless the people willing to chaperone these trips.

The rest of us hopped a train to Berlin. I wish it was really that simple. David bought train tickets and made seat reservations ahead of time and we were to have seats in a compartment (à la Harry Potter on the Hogwarts Express) on one of Germany's high speed trains, known as ICE. We could have flown, but did not want to deal with the stand-by issue. More importantly, we've always bemoaned having to drive long distances in the U.S. and have wished the U.S. had a more extensive, but less expensive train system. This was the perfect time to try a train trip.

We collected the girls from school and then had to take a taxi to the main train station to catch the ICE in time. With more time, we would have been more German and would have taken a bus to our local train station, then a local train to the main train station in Frankfurt where we would have caught the ICE.

So, we waited and waited for our train. Where was it? With only 10 minutes to spare, our train still had not arrived. David asked around, received several different answers, and in the nick of time found out that the powers that be were having trouble "turning trains around" so we needed to hop on a local train to a nearby town where the ICE would pick us up. None of this information was readily available, and we were lucky to get on that first train. So was every one else trying to get to Berlin and there were not enough seats to go around. I had forgotten that there are almost never enough seats on a train in Europe. You can reserve a seat, but there are plenty of extra people without reservations who sit in the aisles and in the spaces between trains. Getting to the potty involves stepping over many people. I had Bex on my lap and David stood in the aisle and we just needed to remind ourselves about the golden rule of traveling: Expect problems.

We disembarked at Hanau and waited about 20 minutes for our ICE train to arrive. And when it did, people literally ran for the doors. I trudged along, dragging Emilie and a suitcase, with David yelling at me over his shoulder, "Hurry up!" Once aboard, I snipped, "Why do I have to run for the train? If the conductor sees people walking to the door, won't they wait till everyone's gotten on?" David answered, "I don't want to find out." (Just a little bit of foreshadowing.)

We found our 6-seat compartment, where a gentleman was reading a book and settled in for the 4-hour trip. We had comfortable seats, had pizza for dinner from the dining car and enjoyed a fast, smooth ride, except for one thing. And her name is Rebecca. I don't know what got into this child, but for the entire 4 hours, she was a whirling dervish. Could not stay still for a second if her life depended on it. She climbed up and down the seats, writhed around on the floor and pretended to be a noisy horse. If we were on an airplane....well....I don't want to think about it. Plus, her double pink eye infection diagnosed this morning gave her blazing, icky red eyes. She looked like a crazed demon. The gentleman and then the young lady who sat with us later put up with her without betraying too much annoyance (or fright). I told David later that I was embarrassed and felt very bad for our fellow passengers. His response was, "Well, don't. We bought and reserved all six seats. They didn't have a seat reservation and technically, we were allowing them to sit with us." That made me feel a bit better.

We arrived in Berlin at about 10:00pm and I was able to convince David that a taxi ride to the hotel, rather than a bus or train ride with a transfer and then a 5-block walk, made more sense at this time of night with three tired kids. On the way to our hotel, I marveled at the energy and number of people walking around in the city. I haven't been in a big city at night in a while and was a bit surprised that people weren't already at home getting ready for bed, as they would be in little Liederbach.

Hessenpark

Today we visited Hessenpark, an open-air museum that has been on our must-see list for a while. Founded in the 1970s, Hessenpark was built to show how life was hundreds of years ago in Hessen, with people demonstrating all sorts of crafts and skills, such as farming, spinning wool, basket weaving, tending animals, beer brewing, bread baking and blacksmithing.

That was what we were expecting. Instead, we chose a time where many exhibits were closed and the majority of the buildings were covered in scaffolding as they were undergoing renovation.

The windmill wasn't scheduled to run during our visit.

Petting this donkey was the highlight of our time here, until it roughly but probably playfully headbutted Emilie in the gut. The hysterical tears are not pictured.

This basket weaver's fingers moved like lightening. He was the only person at the whole park we saw demonstrating a skill or craft.

A window on the building displaying some puppets.



On the way home, we stopped by Saalburg, the remains of a Roman fortification. We got out of the car and the temperature seemed to have dropped by 20 degrees and the fog was thick, too foggy for pictures. I found the photo below on-line.

The kids were bored and miserable and did not feel like traipsing around anymore, even if the fort was an almost 2,000 year-old authentic site this time.

Well, it wasn't. The fortification was a 19th century reconstruction. This was not the day we were hoping for. After staring at the wall and front entrance for a few minutes, shivering the whole time, we all got back into the car and drove home.

David said that the whole day made him feel like Clark Griswold from National Lampoon's Vacation movies. He tried to keep up the enthusiasm, but it just didn't work.

Wall-E and a few surprises

The kids have off all this week and with David unable to take off work due to important meetings, so we've been stuck at home. I just didn't have the guts to take an adventure alone with four kids. We needed to do something fun, so I took the kids to see Wall-E, the latest film by Disney-Pixar, in German yesterday.

At first, the screen was covered by a curtain, which opened and we viewed about 10 minutes worth of commercials. A bank ad, Eva Langoria nibbling seductively on a Magnum ice cream bar, an ad to encourage people to go to the movies, etc. Then, the next one shows a couple in bed gazing at each other longingly. There are close-ups of fingers caressing bare skin as sultry music plays. A message is displayed that says (as far as I can remember it): "You are this close. Talk to each other. Just say it." And then there's a closeup of a condom in a transparent wrapper being handed to the lucky guy. What!!!???? Are we not here to see a children's movie?

The lights came on and the curtains closed. We are here to see Wall-E, right? I thought to myself.

Thirty seconds later, the curtain opened again and it was time for the movie trailers: High School Musical 3, Ice Age 3, Madagascar 2 and an ad for a comedy for grown-ups about some bozo on a submarine. In the middle of the trailer, he dropped his pants and mooned us all.

I was shocked. Germans are more open about sex and nudity, but does the fact that this showing was for a children's film mean nothing? Brief nudity in commercials and even more in movies at night on German TV doesn't bother me and I know I can count on seeing naked bodies in the magazine and DVD racks at the store. And you should see the 2009 calendars on display everywhere. Believe me, there's plenty "on display."

But those ads before Wall-E took me by surprise. Our children are certainly getting an education here.

First Week of German Class

Many weeks ago, I went to our local Volkshochschule to be tested for placement in a German course. These Volkshochschule are found all over Germany and offer all sorts of continuing education courses: literature, art, dance, history, and many languages among others. I was placed in Level A, Course 2 (each level is divided into 2 courses), just where I was hoping to be put. I opted for the more intensive course, which would meet four days a week for four hours each day. My biggest concern was that I was out of school-mode and worried that I wouldn't be able to handle such an intense class, but a friend who took the same set of classes promised me that this was not a university-level course.

The first day I felt a bit unprepared: I was not given the book in advance (I had requested the books for Course 1 and 2, to look them over) and I wasn't even sure what other materials were necessary. When I got to the school, I didn't know where I was allowed to park (no parking lot) and then the classroom was locked and there didn't seem to be other people milling about. Was I in the right place? It put a whole new perspective on how brave our children were on their first day of classes at the international school over a year ago.

The teacher finally arrived, unlocked the door and suddenly there was a whole line of people entering the class, each one placing some sort of baked good or dish on a table in the middle of the room. And they all seemed to know each other and just chatted away. OK, now I really doubted that I was in the right place. I sat down next to a young lady and asked her if this was indeed German Course 2, and she said yes.

As I fiddled with my papers and pens, I heard a gruff voice right next to me loudly proclaim, "Enschuldigung! Sie sind in mein Platz!" (Excuse me! You're in my seat!). I turned my head and met the eye of the angriest-looking Eastern European woman I have ever seen. And when, in shock, I hesitated, she gave me a look that conveyed, "And if you don't move ASAP, I'm gonna knock your block off!"

My heart skipped a beat and my eyes quickly scanned the room. Everyone was staring at us, waiting to see what would happen next. I then proceeded to do an imitation of a terrified dog rolling over on its back in submission. I raised my hands, open-palmed up to my shoulders and said in German "No problem," gathered up my belongings and vacated my seat. Another woman patted one of the few remaining chairs next to her and said, "Here. Sit here." Someone else said something in a low voice to the big mean bully and she answered (in German), slapping her books down on the table, "Well, I'm sorry! But I've been coming here for a month and that's my seat!"

OK. I was in the Twilight Zone. Isn't this the first day of class? Why did everyone bring food and who is this dangerous person who looked like she wanted to punch me?

Once that was settled, the teacher announced, "I know this is supposed to be the first day of Course 2, but since we missed a day last week, this is really the last day of Course 1. We will have class, take a test and then have a little party."

Ahhh, that explains it. But during the next 5 minutes, I was having an internal struggle. These people, including that woman, are all probably signed up to continue on to Course 2. Everyone just saw what happened. I am basically persona non grata. I can end this now. I can get up, walk out and transfer into a different class. But this is the class that best fits my schedule. What to do?

To make matters worse, everyone had to tell what they did over the weekend. When it was my turn, I just answered questions the teacher fired at me. When I said that I was from the U.S., a surprised-sounding murmur went through the room. Was that a positive or negative murmur? And, I had to order my textbook from a bookstore somewhere and it would take a few days. Now, why didn't they tell me that when I asked about the books in the first place? I could have had the books all along! Thankfully, there was one other new student in the class who seemed almost as disoriented as I was.

I was still shaken that night while relating what had happened to David. Should I transfer? We decided that I should give it another day and see. I mean really! I am a grown woman, so why am I letting that brute make me feel like a frightened child? But she really was big and really did glare at me like she was going to sock me.

I had my plan for the next day. I sat in my car until the last minute, figuring I would be the last person in the room and could claim a free seat without a battle. That worked out OK. And there were even more new people the second day. But what to do about the break? We have a 20-minute break in the middle of the class and I had noticed the day before that everyone went downstairs to the school café and sat together. I was not comfortable trying to strike up a conversation with these people who already had their own established clique and saw me being humiliated the day before.

As I shuffled things around at my seat near the end of the break, the group sent an emissary. A Korean woman entered the room alone and asked in English, "Christine, why don't you sit with us downstairs?" What a difference that made. I told her that I would be happy to join them the next day. And I did and the class seemed to go much more smoothly.

I now know where to park, where to sit, I have my book, and joined the English conversation during break the next day. Much better. We have a two-week break now, so by the time classes resume, the slate should have been wiped clean. Though I won't be suggesting that that woman and I go see Sex and the City together at the cinema any time soon, I no longer feel intimidated by her. Gulp.