It's Halloween for me before it is for you!

Happy Halloween! It's Halloween here already, so I can start acting like a maniac and blaming it on the day before anyone else! Oh wait, I already do that! And how will I be celebrating? A full day of lectures and a tour of the Red Light district in Amsterdam--ooh, scary...
I can go trick or treating before anyone else can--haha!!! Except I don't have a costume, and few people celebrate it here. Except for the little girl I heard screaming at her mom last week "Mommy, Halloween costume, I want a Halloween costume!" in Dutch, so I don't know how I picked it up, but I did. Iveta has promised that we can trick or treat her room, and she will have candy for us, but that is just to make sure we don't get bored and "trick" her. I have plans for the evening (not Halloween) but otherwise I would "trick" regardless of the "treat." It had better be a good treat, that's all I have to say. I miss the wonderful commercialism of Halloween, because I really want some Pillsbury Halloween cookies with the pumpkins or bats on them! Just give me a pumpkin cookie cutter and some cookie dough, and I'll be a happy camper! I already have the chocolate sprinkles for decoration--the Dutch seem to be obsessed with them! And I desperately want to carve a pumpkin! If I didn't have plans for Wednesday, I would hunt down a pumpkin and carve it in the hostel, and make pumpkin soup with the insides, and put the jack-o-lantern in the window of the hostel. Or if I couldn't do it in the hostel, I would carve it on a street corner. In a country that has legalized marijuana, I figure I wouldn't be any further out there if I carved a pumpkin on the a street corner!

People

I've finally met up with cool people! (Molly, thanks for the cool vocabulary!) Oh I have been looking forward to this since NOISE! Wonderful people were at NOISE, and now many of them are here in Utrecht! Before I left Berlin, I emailed Katha and Stephanie, and I heard back from them right away! When I got to Utrecht Sunday night, it was an amazing feeling to know that I was in the same town as lovely people!--I am a little starved for stress-free companionship at this point.
Then on Monday morning, I was eating breakfast when I heard someone call my name, and Elaine is standing at the front door of the hostel, just having got in from her flight from the U.S., here to spend a day with the program. A nice person! The world was made right when Iris (van der Tuin) and Marta (Zarzycka) walked into our room at Drift 23. Next Domitilla and two other Utrecht gender studies students talked with us about their experiences as Utrecht gender studies students and their involvement with the student organization Ask Annabel. Then we had a lecture by the one and only Rosi (Braidotti) on her article "Identity, Subjectivity, and Difference." I never thought I could actually understand psychoanalysis, and apply it to issues of class! Rosi just talked, and knowledge flowed out of her very being, infecting us like wonderful feminist viruses (seriously, that is a legitimate simile from NOISE).
Then on Tuesday we met Gloria Wekker, who gave us an amazing lecture on the construction of Dutch identity and multiculturalism, followed by the always lovely Rosemarie (Buikema) who gave us an amazing and incredibly enlightening lecture about Dutch migrant art during the 20th century.
Wednesday evening, I was in the grocery store, trying to figure out how to weigh my carrots on the scales, when I was going to stop and watch a girl weigh her produce on the scale. She turned around, and it was Katha! I just had this feeling that I would meet up with her at some random place rather than the two of us planning on getting together! So we had this giant hugging scene in the middle of the produce section at the Plus store and we talked in English probably too loudly for too long, but neither one of us cared. And she did show me how to weigh my carrots on the scale, and we made plans for this Saturday night.
Then on Thursday, Iveta tells us that we are required to go to two of the three Bienalle lecture focusing on Dutch identity while we are here. So Martha, Ashley, Leah and I go, and while we are waiting in line to get in, we see Katha, along with Somaye from NOISE and several other MA students. It was so lovely to see them once again, and be with nice, "cool" people.

If you have a ticket to A-dam...

If it's Wednesday, it must be A-dam. My life changed a little bit when I looked at the train schedule at the station and saw "A-dam" used as an abbreviation for Amsterdam, and "R-dam" for Rotterdam. What can I say, I'm easily amused and it made me happy early in the morning. Amsterdam is less than 30 minutes away from Utrecht by train. On Wednesdays we go into A-dam for lectures with NGOs, and yesterday we were at the IIAV, the International Information Center and Archives for the Women's Movement. It is housed in a former church, and it can be a borderline religious experience stepping into the place, as it has nearly everything about the Dutch and international women's movements. We had a lecture about the European Feminist Forum, which is a network of feminist affinity groups that advocate for social change at national, regional, and international levels. In the afternoon we had a lecture about masculinity and violence, which is always a welcome change for me in women's studies. I always like discussing masculinity because I spend so much time deconstructing the concept of "woman" and femininity, and also because I think the group as a whole needed a little bit of male energy and a lot of male perspective--just to counterbalance all the estrogen in the air.

For lunch we went to a neat little Turkish restaurant, where we sampled their assortment of pita concoctions; I had the one with feta cheese and spinach. We all had baklava, and then while everyone was having their tea chasers, I tried two of the cookies from the bakery case, which, despite being bright yellow and pale brown, were actually fairly good. All this and a drink for less than five Euros!

Iveta got us train tickets all the way to Amsterdam Centraal (our stop was one stop before Centraal) in case we wanted to go into A-dam. Surprisingly, I was the only one who wanted to take advantage of it! Which of course was fine with me. I realized that in all of this traveling, this was my first time entirely on my own since Bologna, and the first time trying to figure out trains on my own--sheer bliss! I didn't really know what I wanted to do, except just to take advantage of my ticket to Amsterdam and walk around to try and get a feel for the city. I did find the map that I wanted to get, but "feel for the city" part was a little bit more complicated. First of all, the weather yesterday was cold, wet, and dreary--typical October Dutch weather. I had to be realistic with myself that I would not see the A-dam of a postcard, which was probably the most important part. Secondly, I did not venture far beyond the train station, just walking down the main street, past the royal palace (I think), and back up to the train station. I only spent about 45 minutes or so there, but it was enough time for me to get a picture in my head of how the streets run and to find out that despite its size, shops and businesses in A-dam are just like those in any other Dutch city and close around 6:00. I was so proud of myself when I went back to the train station and got right onto a train headed to Utrecht Centraal--I'm a pro at this! It felt unbelievably good to be traveling alone, on my own terms, without other people stressing me out, and discovering Amsterdam and the Netherlands for myself. And discovering, for instance, that I don't think you really need a ticket for the commuter trains in the Netherlands, because I never saw a conductor or any sort of authority on any of the trains I took. My next scheme is to test this hypothesis perhaps head to Belgium next weekend, without a train ticket to Rotterdam--I know, it's crazy, but I think it just might work! Or maybe I'll just take advantage of the 30 Euro student fare that Ashley found on the internet.

A block away from "the end of the world"

Only a few bits of the Berlin Wall are still standing. The only way you can really see how the Berlin Wall split the city in half is on certain tourist maps. As I was looking at one the other day, I noticed that the red line that marked where the Mauer once was seemed to be only a block or two away from my apartment on the map.
Then Tuesday evening I had a great conversation with Sabine about the neighborhood. It seems she has lived in this part of Kreuzberg since she came to Berlin about twenty years ago and has seen so much of the neighborhood change. She enjoys living in this part of Kreuzberg, with its eclectic mix of everyone from traditional Turkish immigrants to hippy artists and everyone else in between. She told me that her building, which once was part of social housing, was sold in July to a private owner, and that now she expects her rent to triple. The building next door was sold a little before Sabine's, and the landlord drove the previous tenants out, changed a few windows, and charged high rents to "yuppie" students--or rather the yuppie students' parents. Twenty-four buildings were sold along with Sabine's, and she said that if what happened next door happens in all twenty-four of these buildings, Kreuzberg will change forever, and not for the good in the eyes of Sabine and many of her neighbors. Don't you just love gentrification? The residents have formed a type of housing union, and have been fighting the city and the landlords, which is really inspiring.
But all of this still somewhat shocks Sabine, because she lived here before the Mauer came down. She told me, "You could go for a block in two directions, and there was the wall. No one wanted to live here; it was really the end of the world. Now everyone wants to live here." I learned so much during the conversation, about the Berlin, the neighborhood, and Sabine.
So after we talked, I naturally set off to see the Mauer--or where it once was--for myself. I walked down Adalbertstrasse in the opposite direction of the U-Bahn station. Along the way, I literally stumbled upon a "stumbling block." Carolyn pointed them out to us on our tour of Berlin on Saturday. Stumbling blocks are little gold plaques that are about the size of any other stone in the street, but they small memorials to Jews who were killed in the Holocaust. They are outside homes and other buildings, and they basically say that a victim of the Holocaust lived here when they got their deportation papers, where they were deported two, and when and where they died. They are meant for everyone to stop and remember that a person from the Holocaust actually lived here, and that now we live in the same place. This stumbling block was only about 100 meters from my apartment. I definitely mentally stumbled upon it, and I was so surprised when I saw it that I think I actually stumbled across the stones. It's language is simple but straight to the point: "Here lived Klara Winkler, born 1887, deported in 1943, killed at Auschwitz."
I walked a little further down Adalbertstrasse, remembering that Sabine said that although the Mauer doesn't stand there anymore, there is a park where it once ran. I came to the corner of Adalbertstrasse and there it was, a park the ran straight down the middle of the street. If I didn't know any better, I might have thought that it was just a neighborhood jogging path down the middle of the boulevard. There are few signs actually saying what the park signifies, just a few inconspicuous blue street signs that say "Berliner Mauerweg." As I stood on the corner of Adalbertstrasse, I realized that I was doing something that was not possible twenty years ago--I looked east down Adalbertstrasse. Then, I crossed Bethaniandamm to the park. There are no traces of the Mauer left, the park is even slightly below street level, below the foundations of the Wall. It was an intense, almost eerie feeling. But actually, I think it goes beyond using the noun "feeling." I was standing where the Berliner Mauer once stood, and for me, words can't even begin to describe what was going through my head. I tried to picture the scene twenty years ago, with the Mauer winding its way like a snake through the scene, with barbed wire and armed guards with machine guns along the top, but I really couldn't grasp it. When I crossed Adalbertstrasse into the former East Berlin, I realized that even though I did something that was impossible twenty years ago, today it is very unremarkable. If I stopped in the middle of the street trying to take it all in, I would end up as a hood ornament on one of the cars careening down Adalbertstrasse and turning onto Engeldamm! Crazy Berlin drivers! The park is now an absolutely beautiful neighborhood space, with benches hidden in small groves of trees and bushes, and jogging paths run along each side. That's what it is now, a jogging path.
There are two churches, one on either side of the park. Thomaskirche is in the former West, Michaelskirche in the former East. Both are large red brick Evangelical/Lutheran churches with large grassy parks surrounding them, but their present states are testament to the two very different histories they have, just a few hundred meters apart. I first went to Thomaskirche which is an absolutely lovely neighborhood church. There are services at 10.00 each Sunday, and on Thursdays a theater group meets that is devoted to giving voice to women's experiences. The inside is a mix of old and new, the original dome, above the new chairs and alter. It is a very welcoming space, and there are several binders near the door that have very detailed histories of the division of Berlin. Even though I had studied the building of the Mauer and the Berlin airlift in German class, it was completely different to be in Berlin, less than fifty meters from the Mauer, reading about this as local history, and although it a significant period in world history, I was reading the account of a neighborhood, of people who had experienced this; my new neighborhood, my new neighbors.
After I left Thomaskirche, I walked to Michaelskirche. When I got to the front, I was frozen in my tracks. I looked up at the facade of Michaelskirche, first at the gates that prevent anyone from entering the front, then at the mural above the doors and then through a circle where a window once was. There was nothing there. The light of day shone to the opposite side of the church, revealing only a hollow shell where the nave once stood. The church looked to have received a direct hit by a bomb, and because it was on the east side of the Mauer, it had not been restored or demolished. Just left there. On the right of the facade is a small playground. At first glance, it may seem like a ghost, a testament to the horrors of war and then a totalitarian state, but as I walked around, I found a different history being written. The back part of the church is being restored, probably so it does not collapse, people walk their dogs around the church, and small children were learning how to ride bikes across the street. Michaelskirche still looks out over its neighborhood, and is still part of the residents lives. As I was walking around, the clock struck six o'clock--the clock in the bell tower of Michaelskirche. Even though it stands on the edge of ruin, remarkably the bells still chime the hour, just as they have since the nineteenth century.
I can only imagine and begin to understand what it was like to live on Waldemarstrasse twenty years ago. It must have been rather unnerving to live so close to "enemy territory." It really was the end of the world. Life continued on both sides of the Mauer; people lived in their apartments, children played, church bells chimed--parallel lives, only audible to each other, with governments, ideologies, and fears embodied in the Mauer that separated them. Today there is no Mauer through Kreuzberg, no separation between east and west, just Berliners, their neighborhood, and their memories.

I finally found it!

Ever since I got past immigration at Heathrow, I have been on a quest for the little pink bars of scrumptious heaven, so much better than the holy grail--Yogurette chocolate bars. The size of Kit-Kats, filled with strawberry yogurt goodness. It has been a heart-wrenching love affair for too many years to count. OK, so they are probably ordinary chocolate bars, but I happen to absolutely love them! It was the first thing I bought the last time I came to Germany. I had hoped beyond hope that their reach extended beyond the borders of Germany, but they weren't in any duty-free shops in Heathrow or Gatwick. Nor were they in anywhere in Bologna, Krakow, or Prague. I had just about given up ever finding them again, when I ventured into a Lidl for the first time in Europe. I know, Lidl's are nothing special--a grocery store where you can buy many things in bulk quantities--but I had seen them everywhere else I'd been, but had never gone inside. Actually, I thought the one down the street from Alma Mater in Bologna was a big laundromat, and even though I eventually figured out that it was a grocery store, I could never get away from it being a laundromat. Anyway... So I was in the Lidl, not really finding anything resembling the macaroni and cheese that I was craving, when I saw them! Yogurette bars, there in their pink strawberry goodness. It was better than finding the holy grail! I proudly walked to the cash register, bought my Yogurette bars, and barely made it home and made myself finish my Chinese take-out before I dove into them, because I knew that after eating a Yogurette bar, nothing else could possibly measure up. Last night as I was scouting another local grocery store, I found more of them--a bulk package with 30 strawberry Yogurette bars and another kind of Yogurette that has mixed berries and is in a lavender package! I didn't get them last night, but when I go grocery shopping today, you can believe those are at the top of my list! I absolutely love this--rediscovering things that I love about Germany and finding even more things to love!

Think local, eat global!

On the last day of NOISE, Katharina said to make sure to go to Kreuzberg when I made it to Berlin. I even wrote it down in my planner so I wouldn't forget. Well, Katharina, I did a little better than that--I live in Kreuzberg! Kreuzberg is amazing, and huge! Kreuzberg is one of the especially alternative areas in Berlin, and I have spent days wandering around, and still there seems to be more! My U-Bahn stop is Kottbusser Tor, which connects to the U-1 (which goes to the East Side Gallery on one end to the Kufuerstendamm on the other) and the U-8 (which has so many neat neighborhoods, including Mehringdamm, along it). Kreuzberg is also home to a large immigrant community from all over the world, but we have mostly Turkish immigrants and their families in our neighborhood. At first I was a little hesitant to use my German, because most of the time I have (what sounds to me like) a pronounced American accent, but Sabine said not to worry, because there are so many people from different countries that I would fit right in. I'm just adding to the linguistic diversity in the neighborhood--how amazing! I live near Oranienstrasse and Adalbertstrasse, which have so many great clubs, restaurants, and cafes, as well as little alternative shops that you really can't find anywhere else. There is even a random Italian bookshop on Oranienstrasse that really has more books in German than in Italian, but nonetheless has many books in Italian and some great feminist postcards. I haven't been into the African store yet, but that will change. Along Mehringdamm and Bergmannstrasse there are a neverending supply of awesome second-hand clothing shops and eclectic shops selling all sorts of things from around the world. My favorites are Checkpoint (second-hand clothes) and Alt-I can never remember its name but it's on Bergmannstrasse (for everything from Indian hammocks to scarves to pillows and chairs and so many other things I could go for broke on. Then there are the endless parties within a ten minute walk from my house--amazing! But probably my favorite thing about living in Kreuzberg is the seemingly infinite amount of ethnic restaurants--Turkish, Lebanese, Syrian, Chinese, Thai, Italian, Vietnamese, Indian, and I know I am forgetting so many more! I literally can't stop eating! And it is all sooo good! When I told Kellie about what I had eaten in my first three days alone, she couldn't believe that I hadn't eaten any "German" food, and I told her that I can't do that because if I want to eat what is in my neighborhood, I can have Thai for lunch and Lebanese for dinner (which is a terrific combination, might I add). I love it! I have yet to get around to sampling Turkish food, but considering the fact that my cousin Kriss lived in Turkey for two years and now considers Cajun food to be blah and mild, I might hold off for a few more days if I want any tastebuds left. I love that I live in a place where if I want to "think local," I automatically "think global!" Amazing!

Find, Stalk, Buy!+Real Freedom=AMAZING!

I have finally found good tofu! I went to a great little Thai restaurant (where the waiter spoke German to me and scared me!), where I actually found tofu that tasted amazing and not disgusting! It was "ein schoenes Tag" (a beautiful day), as the waiter said. Actually I mentally freaked out when he started speaking to me in German, but when I realized that all he was saying was that the weather was nice and that he wasn't trying to talk about politics with me, I calmed down, and said that I would rather speak German than English.
After an amazing lunch, I hopped the U-1 to one of the many great flea markets in Berlin. I ran into Olivia and Stephanie, who had just been there, and said that it was amazing, which it was! I had to repeatedly ask myself how many bags I really need (but those purses were so cute!), how many jackets I have room for in my suitcase (none), and on and on! I knew if I started buying things right away, I would have easily blown 100 Euros in twenty minutes! Of course, I have been saving my money for Berlin because I knew that the shopping is amazing and there is so much to do, but I could not imagine how awesome Berlin is!
After I got through there, I went to the opposite extreme on the other end of the U-1--the Kufuerstendamm! Another thing I was brainwashed into absolutely wanting to go to! As we were pulling out of the station at Warschauer Strasse, a German tourist who was sitting across the aisle from me got really excited. "Is that the Berliner Mauer/Berlin Wall?" Her companion, obviously a Berliner, nonchalantly replied in the affirmative, which got this woman so excited. I turned around and looked out of the window, and sure enough, there is was, the East Side Gallery.
A short 15 minutes later, I was ascending the steps out of the Kudamm U-Bahn station. The first thing I saw was the Kaiser-Wilhelm-Gedaechnis Kirche (Kaiser Wilhelm Memorial Church). It was bombed during the war, leaving only the facade and bell tower standing in ruin. The spire pierces the sky in a broken edge that stands as a stark reminder to the devastation of war amid the bustling street filled with high-end stores and die-hard shoppers. On either side of the original church are blue-glass buildings, one is the new church, and the other the new bell tower. The ground floor of the bell tower is a fair-trade shop featuring handmade items from all over the world, as if to say that given the site's history, it was taking a step forward to rebuilding a more peaceful and just world. All in the name of tourism.
I went up and down the Kudamm, knowing that I wanted to be back at the church by 6:00 for Gottesdienst (Sunday services). The Kudamm is to Berlin what Michigan Street is to Chicago--many amazing stores to keep my shopaholic heart content and high prices to break my bank account. I had to employ my shopping strategy to keep me from buying everything in sight--find something I really like, think about it, maybe go back to the store just to make sure I really want it, and then go back a few days later if I actually plan on buying it. I wanted to find the KaDeWe, or the Kaufhaus des Westens, which is the largest department store in continental Europe. When the store has to have its own information desk at the entrance, with maps in twelve different languages, you know it's big! I didn't have much time before church, so I headed for the food floor. I need two hours for the food floor alone! It has everything imaginable, including a selection of American food like Betty Crocker cake mix and Kraft Mac and Cheese. I can make God's cookies if I wanted! There are so many types of meat, and if you wanted you can choose which swimming thing you want to take home and cook, but obviously that didn't interest me. I was in love with the chocolate cases, the pasta case, the bakery case. Oh my gosh! This was one floor! I have to go back, as cheesy and touristy as it sounds!
Then I went to church at the Gedaechtnis-Kirche. The new sanctuary is round and very modern with walls made of square of blue glass. I have been used to going to church in large, ornate Catholic churches, so to come into this one was a pleasant change--especially when the pastor processed down the aisle and I saw that it was a woman! Welcome to being back in a Lutheran/Evangelishe church! The church was obviously meant for tourists, as it did not have a congregation with the "regulars" and being right in the middle of the tourist and consumer heart of Berlin. The pastor was amazing--I love it when the pastor genuinely loves what she is doing, sharing the word of God with the congregation. For the first time, I could understand the readings, the prayers, and the sermon, and not simply because of the rituals of the service! The scripture reading was the one (which I can't remember to save my life) when Jesus is asked about the greatest commandment. Another Godspell scene! Of course, it is to "love the Lord your God" with all your heart, soul, and might. "And the second is like it, to love your neighbor as yourself." One of my favorite verses. Then the minister talked about freedom in her sermon; I really hope that it wasn't a service staged simply because of the church we were in. She said that we cannot truly be free when war and conflict are rampant in our world, and where people must stand on the streetcorners, begging for spare change. She referred to one person in particular on a specific corner of the Kudamm, and you could leave the church and find him exactly where she said. Freedom, she said, (and keep in mind this me translating from German) is a condition between God and man, and between man and man, and if we miss both of these crucial points, we can never be "free." A much better point than invading, "liberating," and killing. It was one of the best services I have been to in a long time. Despite the fact that there wasn't communion and I had a hard time paying attention after a certain point in the service (but I am so used to Father Randy's five-ten minute homilies at Loretto). I hadn't been to church since Krakow, and going to a Protestant service with a woman (for a refreshing change!) was amazing! Another dream come true, another once in a lifetime opportunity! Another truly amazing day in Berlin!

I LOVE BERLIN!!!!!!!!!!

Guten morgen, Berlin! I stepped outside my building, threw my arms up in the air, took a deep breath, and did a little happy dance!
I was all excited to start massacre the German language! I went into a little store around the corner and asked for orange juice! I went down the street to a bakery and order two croissants! All in German! OK, so I only needed to know about ten words to do it, but let me live in my excited little world! And then I navigated the two U-Bahn trains to Mehringdamm perfectly! I was so proud of myself! I am so amazing!
We had an orientation meeting with our site coordinator, Ipek, who is a really famous German-Turkish lesbian DJ in Berlin. She was named one of the top 100 women in Germany, and after being with her for a couple of hours, I can see why--she is amazing!
We spent most of the day on an amazing tour with a Canadian expat, Carolyn, who will also do an anti-racism workshop with us later this week. If we only have one good tour besides Krakow on this trip, I am glad that it was Berlin--the guide in Prague really had no idea what she was doing, and we had a good tour guide at Auschwitz I, until we got to Auschwitz-Birkenau and she met us in tears because her daughter-in-law died while we were en route to Auschwitz II. Anyway.
We started off at Friedrichstrasse, and before we left the U-Bahn station, Carolyn told us how the U-Bahn ran when Berlin was divided. The line we took, U-6, started in West Berlin, went through East Berlin, and ended in the West. The trains still ran through East Berlin, but no one could get on or off, as they were technically going through a different country and "enemy territory." The stations in East Berlin were called ghost stations. Armed guards with machine guns would patrol the platform to make sure that no one got on or off. We got on the U-6 at Mehringdamm in the former West, and got off at Friedrichstrasse in the former East.
Friedrichstrasse was home to Berlin's cabaret scene during the 1920s, when the German economy was in shambles and money was spent as soon as it was earned because of constant currency devaluation. Another site the Carolyn pointed out to us was what was known as "The Palace of Tears" during the communist period. If someone wanted to leave East Berlin, they would have to go through a long, awful process of applying to leave, be harassed by the police for wanting to leave (including their family), and be turned down, repeatedly. If they were finally granted clearance to leave, they would have only 24 hours to pack their belongings, say goodbye to their friends and family, and get to the train at Friedrichstrasse, knowing they would never see their family again. As Carolyn told us this story, I actually cried.
We went to Alexanderplatz, which was the center of East Berlin, is one of the centers for Berlin today, and has a world clock (that is not on daylight savings time). The Fernsehturm (t.v. tower) towers over Alexanderplatz and Berlin. It was built as a show of the East's industrial and political superiority, but in the course of building it, they realized that they did not have the technical knowledge about how to build it and had to import it from outside the Soviet Union. In addition, it was supposed to answer back to the crosses on top of the churches in West Berlin, but when the sun shines on the ball, it shines in the shape of a cross. The joke was totally on them!
We went to Rosa-Luxembourg-Platz, which has a memorial (sculpted by a woman) dedicated to the 2000 women who protested their Jewish husbands being deported by the Nazis. After protesting outside the prison where their husbands held, the Nazi commissioner relented, never deporting the majority of the Jewish prisoners, and bringing back the 25 that had already been sent to concentration camps. It is the only known instance of civil disobedience against the Nazis working during the regime. Woman Power!
We walked through Museumsinsel (Museum Island), and Carolyn told us so many anecdotes about each of the places. About how the communists tore down the imperial palace, and put up a palace to communism on one part of the site and a parking lot on the other. Now the communist palace is being torn down, because it was built with asbestos. Go figure! But the princesses' palace is now home to the largest cake bar in the world, so I am going to have to take part in the German tradition of "cake time" an afternoon or two this week. I like "cake time" much better than "tea time"--I don't like tea but I love cake.
Then walked along Unter den Linden, which is like the Champs-Elysees of Berlin. Unter den Linden is another one of those places that we had learned about in German class, so to actually be walking down Unter den Linden was another dream come true! I was dancing with excitement! On Unter den Linden there is a memorial in front of the law school at Humboldt University dedicated to the book burnings that took place there. In the middle of the square there is a white glass square in the ground, where you can look down into a room that has empty bookshelves that can hold twenty thousand books, the number of books that were burned. When you stand on top of the glass, you can only see your feet, which the architect meant to ask "what would you have done if you had witnessed the book burnings?" A bit further away from the glass is a plaque with the famous Heinrich Heine quotation "Where they have burned books, they will end in burning human beings."
We took a bus down Unter den Linden (which is under massive construction right now, especially down by the Brandenburger Tor), on which I got my first glimpse of the Brandenburger Tor! I was so excited! I had stopped taking pictures because I didn't want my camera batteries to die before I could get a picture of myself in front of the Brandenburg Gate! Before we went to the Gate, we visited the Reichstag, which is the seat of the German Parliament. At this point, I had so many inappropriate lines from "The Producers" going through my head! We stopped in front of a line of jagged stones, which Carolyn said were a memorial to the government officials who spoke out against Hitler and had been killed. When I went over to look, the first one I put my hand on was a stone for an official named Ernst Grube. I completely froze, and I don't remember what Carolyn said after that. I know, there is no possible way that there is any strong familial connection after hundreds and hundreds of years, but I read "Grubb" when I looked at the name. (Grubb is my mom's last name.) Grube/Grubb. The resemblance, particularly when you (try) pronounce it correctly, is too frightening, He was killed in 1945 at Bergen-Belsen. I was not expecting it, and it obviously really shook me up. I definitely cried at this point, but I didn't want to try to explain it to anyone.
Oh, then the Brandenburger Tor! Actually, I thought it would be bigger than what it was. But nevertheless, I was at the Brandenburger Tor, I couldn't believe it! I was in Becki Roams travel heaven! As we were trying to get a group picture (the first one of the entire trip) we found ourselves surrounded by a completely random dog parade! Hundreds of dogs walking their humans, and some of the dogs and humans were dressed in matching sequined costumes. A dog parade at the Brandenburger Tor--amazing!
The rest of the day was just as amazing, and I felt like I sampled so much of Berlin in one day, but yet I hadn't even begun to scratch the surface! Leah, Leah's ex-boyfriend, Ashley, Martha and I got some Italian food on Mehringdamm for dinner. When we entered the restaurant, the owner asked us how many of us there were--in Italian! Without missing a beat, I automatically answered "cinque"--I knew I couldn't put that Italian away! Then that evening Teddy, Joanna, Mahina, Kristen and I went out a party on Oranienstrasse--I live in the neighborhood where everyone goes to party! Amazing! Amazing, amazing, amazing!!! I LOVE BERLIN!!!

Herr Langton said to go to Dresden and Leipzig...

Be excited, be very excited--a train directly from Prague to Berlin! Not like the three trains from Krakow to Prague! We could set our bags down on the train once, and we would be whisked away to Berlin. At least that's what we thought. It would not be a typical travel day for the Antioch group if something didn't go wrong.
Initially, our train to Berlin was half an hour late, but at least it came. I settled into my window seat, looking forward to five hours of pure relaxation and silence. Even though I had articles to read for Germany, the only thing I wanted to do was write. And so I wrote for an hour and a half straight, and if you want to read the scenery-fueled nostalgic mess, see the next post. Anyway.
As soon as our train crossed the border into Germany, I became so excited! I was back in Germany! I was back in Germany! My countdown to Berlin was nearly over! For those of you who I got to talk to online while I was in Prague, you also knew what the countdown was, because I told you each time I talked to you. That was also when they stopped having the announcements in Czech and English. Soon after we crossed the border, the conductor came over the loudspeaker and said (in German) that the train was stopping in Dresden and not continuing on to Berlin. I went to the next compartment and told Iveta what the conductor had said, and she would not believe me, "No, our tickets say that this train goes to Berlin, we are not stopping." After I tried to reiterate that I was not making this up and that the train really was ending in Dresden, she still would not believe me. Fast forward five minutes. The conductor comes on again and says "Deutsche Bahn is striking today, and therefore this train will be ending in Dresden and then going back to Prague." I translate again, and this time another girl goes and tells Iveta, and Iveta listens to her. Between Iveta and I talking to the conductor, we learn that lo and behold, the train is stopping in Dresden, but there may be a train to Leipzig, and from Leipzig we may be able to get to Berlin. I take the blame for the Deutsche Bahn strike and for our travel plans getting so screwed up, because whenever I travel, someone goes on strike. It happened with Aer Lingus, so it was no surprise that it happened with Deutsche Bahn! And I had been so excited to get to Germany and start trying out my German, but we hadn't been in Germany twenty minutes, and I was burned out from using my very rusty German to translate between conductors and the group. I was not ready for this! But of course I was still crazily excited, trying not to sing and dance in the train. I was in Germany, on a train that was going on strike, I could *somewhat* understand what people around me were saying, and I would eventually be in Berlin--what could be any better!?
Once we got to Dresden, we basically ran to a train that would take us to Leipzig. Once we got to Leipzig, we had no idea what to do next, but we would be in Leipzig, which was supposedly one step closer to Berlin. This train was a regional train from Dresden to Leipzig, and was not ready for the passengers of a large international train to come on at the last minute. So everyone going to Berlin piled onto it--baggage in the aisles, people on top of baggage, people on top of people, it was beautiful. We had about ten people plus our obscenely oversize luggage crammed into the entrance of the car. But as we were pulling away from the station in Dresden, we went passed the opera house in Dresden, which was all over our German textbooks. I got really excited, and people laughed at me. Once we left Dresden, the scenery was still rather beautiful, and I didn't have to look out the windows...I mean there was a gorgeous guy who was crammed into the entrance with us, and he spoke perfect English and was incredibly nice. The problem with being where we were was that anytime the train stopped, we prayed that no one would want to come on because that would mean we would have to rearrange all of our stuff and cram even more people into the already overcrowded space. I groaned whenever they said "Austieg rechts" (right, my side of the train) and breathed a temporary sigh of relief when it was "Austieg links" (the left side). After another part of the car cleared out, Joanna and Ashley took their stuff and ran to the other part when we pulled into a couple of stations. I eventually found myself holding some of Mahina and Ashley's stuff, as well as trying to corral my swivel suitcase, and I just jammed myself into the corner and put my sweatshirt against the wall and slept. I had not been able to eat anything since breakfast, I was on three hours of sleep, and I was tired of translating. Feed me and I'll translate, darn it!
Once at Leipzig, we ran to another train that would take us to Berlin, and we still haven't figured out why these last two trains were running if Deutsche Bahn was on strike. I don't remember much of the last train. I was tired, and the floor was the most comfortable train floor ever. I was a little irritated at this point, because I just wanted to relish being back in Germany and savor the moment, but instead I had to deal with grouchy train attendants and other grouchy people. We were all grouchy. But my mood soon changed...
Oh BERLIN!!!!!!!! I kind of like Berlin right away! Despite the fact that we had to take three more S-Bahn trains to get to the restaurant where we would have dinner and meet our host families. The restaurant was an Indian restaurant called Assam, and it is my new favorite Indian restaurant. I looked at the menu and realized that I could read it! And then I had no problem ordering in German! And they had Spezis! My first time having a real Spezi in Germany!!! Oh my gosh, what could be better?! Even more excitement! A Spezi is a German drink that is basically Coca-Cola and orange Fanta, and is the only way I will ever drink Coke. Danke, Herr Langton. The food was amazing, and even though I can't remember what was in it, go to Assam and ask for #17 and a Spezi, and you will have found happiness in Berlin!
On the other hand, I was rather nervous about the homestays; or rather, choosing my homestay. Our site coordinator, who is totally amazing and does things her way, has us choose our homestays. She has a list of families, their neighborhoods, how many students they take, and the vegetarian/pet/smoking situation. At this point in the trip, I kind of wanted to stay in one of the few one-student homestays, mostly so I could practice German and explore and experience Berlin entirely for myself. There was one homestay in particular that was in Kreuzberg, was a single woman, wanted one student, was a vegetarian, didn't smoke, and had a cat. Perfect. So I chose Sabine.
As I was getting my luggage together, the waiter randomly asked Sabine if I was American, when I shocked him (and Sabine too) by answering in German. He kept asking questions, and wouldn't let us leave until the general story had been established that yes, I was an American student, I was from Chicago, I speak a little German, and I will be in Berlin for two weeks.
Sabine had plans for the evening, so after she left I collapsed and had the apartment all to myself. I basically have the front of the flat to myself, with my room (which is her son's room) and the living room with the t.v. Oh the television! I have not watched t.v. since coming to Europe, so I just spread out on the couch and watched t.v. It felt so, so good just to sit in front of the one-eyed monster and let my brain... Zack, you can watch Nickelodeon here, but you might not like it because it is German and has SpongeBob. Everyone else: remember the awesomely bad '90s shows like "Pete and Pete" and "Clarissa Explains It All"...I never thought that my first night in Berlin would give me flashbacks...in German...

The last day in Prague

Thursday, my last day in Prague. Being in Prague was another dream come true. Sometimes I had to pinch myself to make sure that I wasn't dreaming. Prague is definitely a place I would love to come back to. Even though I really enjoyed it, I felt a little guilty that I wasn't feeling the same way about leaving Prague that I felt about leaving Bologna. In Bologna, I had to force myself to buy my postcards because I knew that it was inevitable that I would have to leave. In Krakow, I eagerly bought my postcards, ready to leave Krakow and go to Prague. But in Prague, I bought my postcards, knowing that I was another step closer to Berlin, and I would miss Prague more if I wasn't leaving Prague for Berlin. But I don't think I even scratched the surface of Prague, and there are so many things that I did not get the chance to do. Prague Castle, Astrological Clock, Wenceslas Square, the crazy dancing building, Mala Strana, Josefov, Alfons Mucha and Jan Saudek art exhibitions, all check. But there is so much more--to much to list and make myself sad that I didn't do! Naturally, I tried to pack everything into my last afternoon!
If there was one thing that I would be disappointed if I left Prague without doing, it was going to the World Press Photo Exhibition. I really enjoyed the lecture about the World Press Photo competition we had at NOISE. The exhibition doesn't come to the United States, and if I ever wanted to see it if I wasn't in Europe, the next closest place would be Toronto. So this was really a once in a lifetime opportunity! Student admission was 50 CZK, or less than $2.5. I had to do this! We saw some of these pictures at NOISE, but I enjoyed going through and analyzing the images for myself. I noticed nearly everything at the exhibition that Marta had said in her lecture! The "high standards of photography" that is constituted and reaffirmed by middle-class white men for middle-class white audiences. Women portrayed as highly sexual or as the epitome of vulnerability and victimization. "One person's trauma relates to another person's trauma." The "pornography of misery." The first pictures in the exhibit were pictures of animals and the environment (including series of a seal eating a penguin), followed by row after row of sports photos. I should probably interject here that at this point I had hardly seen a photo of a woman or a picture taken by a woman. The sports then gave way to the heavy, political photos. The first I saw was of a rescue effort in the Canary Islands, where relief workers and vacationers alike were rushing to help a boatload of African refugees that had washed up on shore. That part was profound, but the photo focused on women in bikinis bent over a male refugee, giving the dual image of the ever-nurturing women and the objectification of women's bodies. There was another image of (I remember correctly) a Guatemalan or Nicaraguan woman lying dead in the street, her body full of dozens of bullets. The female victim. I nearly missed the photo of the year--the one of the young Lebanese women in the convertible returning to their neighborhood at the beginning of the most recent Lebanese-Israeli conflict--because it was randomly stuck in with the other photos. I looked for "power relations, intersectionality, and cultural meanings" in the pictures, and was disturbed at what I saw. Naturally, I was disturbed by the images, how we live in a world with so much conflict, violence, and hate and order them as the least of our priorities (or make them priorities for the wrong reasons). It brought the rest of the world into my sheltered, educated, middle-class realm, so of course this images would shake my individual world. But I was also further disturbed by the choice of subjects and the photographers' motivations in taking the photos. Did they just sit idly by and watch these events happen, thinking that they were doing their part by bringing these events and issues to the rest of the world? I know that the photographer who took the photo of the African child and the vulture killed himself shortly after taking the photo. Did the photographer in the Canary Islands put down their camera and help? Did the photographer in Guatemala/Nicaragua cry after taking the photo of the woman lying in a pool of her own blood? I thought of my own reluctance to take pictures on the trip. There have been so many times that I have wanted to take pictures, to freeze a moment in time for me to remember the message or the scene in the picture. But that ruins the picture for me, it shatters the moment, and I am the only one benefiting from it--when you take a picture, you are literally "taking" something with nothing benefiting the subject of the picture. That is why I have so few pictures of people,
After I left the exhibition, it started raining, and I didn't have an umbrella. Instead of backtracking a few minutes to grab my umbrella from the apartment. I wanted to go back to the castle, just because I thought there was a 6:00 mass at St. Vitus at the castle. It was a big step for me, because it was my first time at the square or across the river since Saturday. I had my confidence and independence back, but I still looked over my shoulder every so often. As I crossed the Charles Bridge, I remembered that I had not made my wish at the statue of St. Wenceslas. So like every other good tourist, I stopped, in the yucky, drizzly rain to touch the statue and make my wish. I won't say what I wished for, because then it would come true, silly! I overheard a German tourist telling an Indian tourist "If you touch the statue, then you will come back to Prague," at which point the Indian tourist responded "Yeah, if you can afford the plane ticket!" It made me laugh and put a smile on my face! When I got to St. Vitus, I found out that mass wasn't until 7:00, and since it was not even 5:30 and I was hungry and still had a paper to write that evening, I decided to cut my loses, not go to church in the Czech Republic, buy some postcards, and head back to the apartment.
Coming full circle from our first night in Prague, Joanna, Mahina, Olivia and I went back to the same Thai restaurant where we had our first dinner in Prague. We downed amazing Thai food and mango juice, reminiscing about the last two weeks. A great day capped off with great food and great people--the perfect way to finish off an amazing two weeks in Prague.

So Vienna looks a lot like Prague Castle

Despite the early morning and slight disappointment about not being able to go to Vienna, I was determined that I was not going to waste the beautiful afternoon lying in bed, which seemed to be the order of the day at Soukenicka 28. I grabbed my purse, put up my "Roam" away message, and set off, camera in hand, ready to commit camera terrorism in Prague.
The day was so beautiful--blue sky, white puffy clouds, sunshine illuminating everything. I took a right from my house, passing the house of the ambassador of the Democratic Republic of the Congo, and in hindsight we should have had some sort of message protesting the violence against women and girls that is epidemic there right now (among so many other human rights violations). Instead, I took the back way towards Old Town Square. I wound my way through the narrow medieval streets of Josefov, past St. Agnes Convent, the Spanish Synagogue, and numerous other places not being assaulted with tourists on a Saturday afternoon. I able to stay close to a tour in German, which is how I learned that the St. Agnes Convent was founded by a Czech king's sister in the 13th century. If I remember right.
When I made it to Old Town Square, there was a street performance of five older men, obviously a group of old musician friends who enjoyed playing jazz. I am always entertained by the proliferation of jazz on the tourist streets of Prague! I thought I would hear the same classical music that I did in Krakow, but instead Dixieland was juxtaposed on Prague! The group was pretty good, and I loved it when they imitated Louis Armstrong in Czech--some music truly is "world" music! I am not sure if anyone else in the crowd caught it, but the trumpeter had a blue Union Army cap on, very ironic as they were playing Dixieland! It was the absolute perfect way to enjoy my gelato-esque gelato in Prague!
Then I hit the tourist trap that is Karlova Street, which starts at the tourist trap of the Astrological Clock at Old Town Square and ends at the tourist trap of the Charles Bridge on the other side. The Charles Bridge is touristy for a reason, because not only is the bridge one of Prague's many architectural masterpieces, it offers great views of the city Stare Mesto (Old Town) on one side of the Vlatava River and the hills with Letna, Prague Castle, and the Eiffel/Prague Tower on the other. But I was on a mission--I was headed for the castle.
Prague Castle is one of my favorite places in Prague. There aren't too many places that I have been where 800 years of history is so accessible and absolutely beautiful. It is slightly surreal to me knowing that I am wondering through the national seat of government and passing through the president's residence as much as I want and totally without a security clearance! (Except for the armed guards posted around the grounds with their guns and bayonets--I found out that I am a little scared of them.) It is also a great place to come just for some peace and quiet, meandering through the gardens, sitting on the walls and letting the breeze and the view sweep me away. Some say that Prague is the Paris of Eastern Europe, I may be tempted to say there is some truth to that statement. Prague is an inspirational place, for literature, knowledge, activism, scenery. It is enchanting, whether I was looking down on it from one of the hills or looking up at the buildings as I walked to class. Prague does have a magical aura to it, similar to Paris, but uniquely Prague. There is even a miniature Eiffel Tower in the park across from the castle! I found myself comparing Prague Castle to Versailles, and I have to say that I like Prague Castle much better than Versailles. Versailles is basically a testament to the wealth and decadent desires a few kings, and while it is a beautiful place to visit to see beautiful art and architecture and learn about an important period in French history, Prague Castle has layer upon layer of history and experience, which makes it much more intriguing to me.
The climb up to the castle is a little steep, but once I got up to the castle, the city of Prague spread out below me. One of my goals was to take advantage of fresh batteries in my camera and snap as many pictures as possible at Prague Castle. And I reverted back to my Disney Princess/Feminist Queen fantasies. I realized (and you will probably disagree with me) is that the world needs a feminarchy, perhaps just to take care of the problems of patriarchy. Prague Castle would be a great seat for the feminarchy--it is in a castle, it already has the government offices, the castle has great views of the city...And of course I would live in the castle, but I wouldn't need the whole castle. I thought off all the amazing feminist transformation that the space could be used for: shelters, schools, job training programs, so many other programs needed to remedy the problems caused by patriarchy. And I would keep a small part for myself, which of course would be my rose garden. That would be mine and mine alone, where I would retreat to at the end of long days from saving the world. That was a lot of feminist language for me! All the while I snapped pictures, exploring each passageway or path that I came upon, and occasionally just sitting on the castle walls and trying to take everything in. My camera told me that it was time to head back with the batteries died, so I left the castle and walked to Mala Strana back the Charles Bridge.
That was when I saw him. I was about a third of the way between the castle and Charles Bridge, and surprisingly there weren't many people around. I noticed a creepy looking guy on the other side of the street, and when he crossed to my side of the street, I crossed to the opposite side and headed down a different street. I looked back and saw that he was staring me, watching me walk down the street, and not really bothering to hide it. I was being followed. I immediately grabbed my pepper spray and hid it under my shirt, ready to use it. There weren't many people on the street, so he would be able to see if I ducked into a store or restaurant. I kept heading for the Charles Bridge, thinking that I would be able to lose him in the crowds of tourists on the bridge. But once I got to the bridge, he was still following me. I had to stop at a crosswalk, when he caught up to me and was about twelve feet away from me. He knew that I knew he was following me. I was ready to turn around and use my pepper spray, and then run, but for some reason I don't know how I managed not to completely freak out and panic. I got back onto Karlova, which weaves and winds and has wall-to-wall tourists. It was hard to keep moving at a fast pace, but I could zig-zag in and out of crowds, trying to put as much space, crowds, and turns between the creeper and me as possible. I looked back when I got to Old Town Square, and took a different way back to Soukenicka, which was still through a touristy area, where I knew the side streets and could zig-zag back to Soukenicka. I think I lost the creeper around the square, but I was still scared. Fortunately, Leah, Ashley, and Martha were going to grab some dinner, so I was able to go out with them, but I kept looking over my shoulder. Rationality told me that I had lost the creeper, I handled it the best way that I could, and that it was a freak incident that could happen anywhere, but I was so shaken up. That was the scary part for me, not the incident itself, but that it shook my confidence so much. All the nights I was alone coming back from Notre Dame, the six weeks in Europe, the first Friday night in Bologna where I took the wrong bus and was stranded for half an hour (didn't tell you about that, did I?), the nights in Bologna and Krakow where I was out until ten or eleven at night by myself...the nights, and this was during the day in a crowded area. I had to work my confidence back up to step foot outside the apartment by myself, if nothing else to go to school.
As I looked at the pictures I took throughout Prague that day, I knew that I had an amazing day, and I wouldn't let one scary incident ruin my day, ruin my great time in Prague, and shake my independence.