From Friday, April 6 until Monday, April 9 I was in the capitol of jelly donuts. (Editor’s note: Research JFK’s “Ich bin ein Berliner” if you do not get the reference.) I left Marburg with five other people destined to Berlin Hauptbahnhof via train. I highly recommend reserving a seat on the train, unless you want to spend 95% of the 4-hour journey sitting on the floor, which in retrospect was not too shabby.

Arriving at our destination I begged to find the Jugendherberge (hostel) first, but the siren song of the city had already occupied the listening receptacles of my comrades. Weighed down with luggage we staggered towards the Reichstag, which was viewable from the Hauptbahnhof. We had two hours to kill before the last two of our comrades arrived. This venture proved painful as my shoulder began to feel as though a thousand daggers began to stab at it. Hearing is the physiological response to vibration detected by the eardrums and the electrical impulses sent to the brain that follow. Listening is the process whereby one critically ponders over the stimulus sent via the ears. I was heard, but not listened to and therefore; the pain in my shoulder would distract me over the next few days. The siren song would not sway me until later that evening.

The initial journey had sapped some of the strength from my comrades and it was clear early on that the night would end early. Here is where my first tip to those traveling abroad comes in handy: Purchase your own travel ticket and avoid group tickets. The few cents you save ends up ensnaring you to the group. Go ahead, do yourself a favor, and pay the extra money. After settling on a local Kneipe (bar) and drinking a few rounds we were ready to head back to the Jugendherberge, with the exception of myself. Night presents itself with opportunities that are not available in the daytime. Second travel tip; Go see that point of interest at night. There are less people, it is quieter, and you may be astounded at just how different the place looks. The Reichstag, Brandenburg Gate, Checkpoint Charlie, the Kaiser-Wilhelm-Gedachtniskirche, and other Berlin locales look much better to creatures of the night than they do during the day. I even stumbled across the Denkmal für ermordeten Juden Europas, but I will explain more about that experience later. It requires its own section to properly do it justice. When I came back around 3 in the morning, the others will still awake in bed chatting away. We all had a very lengthy, exciting, and fun-filled day.

My day began at 8 a.m., the women shortly thereafter, and my male colleagues before the sun reaches its epoch. By now I had a rudimentary grasp on the Berlin public transportation system and jumped off at the Zoolögischer Garten. From the station one can see the remains of a church, once resplendent in glory along the skyline, reduced through Allied bombing campaigns to a skeleton of its former self. The Kaiser-Wilhelm-Gedachtniskirche stands in stark contrast to the modern world around it. It stands as a reminder of the pile of rubble that the political goals of the NSDAP reduced Berlin to. This church is a reminder of the antithetical reality of Hitler’s vision of Germania. The ultra-chic Kaufhaus des Westens is just down the street.  Whether or not Hitler had expensive shopping malls included in his vision remains unknown to this day.

I spent some of that afternoon at the Denkmal für ermordeten Juden Europas. As I promised, more on that experience later.

By this point I met up with the two other guys and we proceeded towards Checkpoint Charlie. Before we got there though, we made a requisite stop to a stretch of the former Berlin Wall. The guide I carried with me gave no indication that there would be an installation at the location. Topographie des Terrors was a pleasant surprise that chronicled the Nuremburg Trials and adoption of Vernichtungspolitk (extermination policies), which sentenced many of the top Nazi officials to death. This leads me to my third travel tip: Expect the unexpected and roll with it. Realize that you will discover interesting things and always run late on your planned timetable. After the short delay we headed to the spot where Russians and Americans stared each other down for decades. Let me sum up Checkpoint Charlie in one word: sham. Let me now sum up Checkpoint Charlie in more than one word. The two guards that stand outside the place are in American soldier uniform, have American medals, and are holding an American flag. They are German. This place is still a great photo opportunity and should not be missed. Do not buy pieces of the Berlin Wall from the Museum am Checkpoint Charlie, because they cost double than everywhere else. I learned this the hard way.

Tip number four: Take naps when needed, especially if you plan on staying out late in Berlin. All that wandering and consumption takes a toll on your body. You will actually enjoy more if you are fully rested.

Every year, usually in the spring, Jesus rises from the dead to feast on the brains of the living. Wait a second, that can’t be right. In fact I think that may be borderline blasphemy. Okay, I know this because I was imprisoned in a maximum security Christian grade school. Oh yeah! Easter in Berlin was spent at the Denkmal für ermorderten Juden Europas. The irony of this event did not go unnoticed. What better way to observe the resurrection Jesus, by visiting a memorial commemorating the very people who do not believe in his divinity?

The official German memorial to the Jews systematically destroyed by the Hitler regime between 1933 and 1945 is as beautiful as it is controversial. It stands alone covering a whole city block. The entire space is a matrix of cement monoliths that bear no insignia, names, or identifying marks. The “Stille” are dark grey and rectangular in dimension. The outer perimeter of the memorial has very small Stille, while the innermost section has the largest. The horizon line of Stille is uneven, as are the walkways in between the stone blocks.

I first discovered this monument walking alone in search of night photos. Without much aforethought I began to head into the heart of the monument. Walking in between the Stille I felt a bone chilling cold, but not because of the night temperature. I had become lost and disoriented with only the clear sky above to guide me. I could see neither end nor around the corner. I could hear voices, but not those of anyone familiar. The Stille stood silent above me leering overhead as I wandered not knowing my direction. The ground below my feet rose and fell, but I still could not pinpoint my bearings. Occasionally I would meet people for brief periods as they passed by. Sometimes I would understand what they were saying, sometime I would not, and sometimes they would say nothing. I felt lost, I felt helpless, I felt like only God above could see where I was going. I left with a sharp pain in the middle of my heart. Monuments are typically solemn and silent reminders of the past. This one confronts what the Jews refer to as Sho’ah head-on, in order to teach the ever-forgetful current and future generations not to make the same mistakes of their forefathers.

The morning after my initial visit to the Jüdisches Denkmal, I made my return to visit the museum underneath the Stille. The first room of the museum laid out a timeline of events that led to government-sanctioned destruction, all of which I had reviewed during my studies several times before. The second room unexpectedly wrenched the heart from my chest. On the floor were small entries from letters written by Jews detailing their accounts. A woman wrote that she had seen Nazi officials left behind the corpse of a Jewish woman with her baby. The baby was still alive and suckling upon its dead mother’s breast. Another visitor handed me tissues while I sat with my head buried in my hands. Your gesture was much appreciated, whoever you are. I cannot write anymore about this place.

A few minutes away by foot is the Reichstag, which I highly recommend visiting. From the top of the Reichstag one can look out into the city, and see all the Grenzbezirke (districts) of Berlin. You can the look down into the glass ceiling and see democracy in action when the Abgeordneten are in session. It was here in the rotunda that I learned that Hitler never set actually set foot in the Reichstag. Instead, according to history, the Nazis burned this building to the ground as a means to gain the legal authority to suspend civil liberties. With emergency powers allocated solely to Hitler, Germany plunged into darkness. Fortunately, legitimate democratic government returned to the Reichstag in 1999.

By Monday we had worn out our welcome at the Hostel and packed up. We locked up our baggage at the train-station because we still had time to kill before our train home. The rest of the day was spent strolling around the city, in search of “must-see” places. I stumbled across the Deutsches Historisches Museum, which chronicles German history from its very early Celtic and Roman origins up until the modern day. Tip number five: A lot of German museums are closed on Mondays, but not all.

We certainly did see much more of Berlin than detailed here. Three full days, however, is not even enough to scratch the surface. During my time there I took just over 650 photos, of which over 100 are available on my flickr.com account. I have also collected my favorite Berlin photos in a set for you to see.

Berlins Schätze, die ich nicht gesehen könnte, müssen auf mich warten. Bis später meine Lieblingsstadt des ehemaligen Ostdeutschlands, wir wollen in der Zukunft treffen. Ich verspreche dir Berlin, ich will zurück sein.

My next post will be on the fertile grounds of Deutschland. I’ve waited nearly two years for this day to come. Operation Übertaco operatives are to rally at the Comfort Inn in Gurnee, Illinois before the flight tomorrow from O’hare. To my friends who could not join me, I will find your deutsche Doppelgaenger.

Today I went to see Holocaust survivor Henry Golde speak on campus at the urging of my girlfriend. I was not disappointed at his tale of survival through 10 different concentration camps. When finished with his tale I had the opportunity to ask him a question that had been in the back of my mind for quite some time.

The First Amendment of the US Constition guarantees the free exchange of ideas and this area of thought is protected. What can a teacher of German say to someone who denies the holocaust ever happened? Mr. Golde went into detail about a local Wisconsin librarian who attempted to remove books from schools mentioning the holocaust since it was a “hoax.” His account was poignant and even funny in how he dealt with the situation. The thing that stuck out most about his answer though was only a brief snippit. People may deny and/or refute the mountains of evidence, but what happened to Mr. Golde’s family?

Am I to understand that one day millions of people just decided to never see their family members ever again to support a radical conspiracy against the Nazis? Thank you for putting that into perspective Mr. Golde. Shalom.

According to my friend Drew the local dialect of Sheboygan, Wisconsin uses the word “schnibbel” to describe a scrap piece of paper. I had an inclination that this word had German roots so I whipped out the translator on my Tungsten C. Sure enough schnibbel is derived from the masculine/neuter German noun Schnippel.

The thousands of dollars I will be paying well into my 50’s for my college education has payed off. Thanks Drew.