Day 5- Yet More Berlin

The Germans have a saying, "wie die Katze um den heissen Brei herumgehen". I don't know what it means, either.

We continue with Berlin near Checkpoint Charlie and with a tour group heading into the east part of Berlin. Quite honestly, the tour kind of dragged from this point. We saw some opera houses, symphony halls and museums (all from the outside) and there is not much you can really say. Yes, they were very nice and the architecture was interesting in its own way, but it was certainly not the stuff of either fairy tales or grandiosity or fine, subtle detail. It was architecture, it was old. However, it was Prussian old, not the rest of Europe old so I believe it the structures were about the same era as you might find in Boston. It think it was Neo-classical but I am no art student so don’t quote me on that.

Other than that we saw a piece of modern art commemorating the time the Nazis raided the library nearby and removed hundreds of books for summary burning in the square out front. This was a very memorable piece of artwork because manner in which it was executed. It was rather unnoticeable unless it was pointed out, as it was underground. It was a white room with several empty, white bookshelves representing the empty bookshelves of the library and all the knowledge destroyed. This would be a good concept except for one thing, that being an oversight by the artist that was the block of lucite through which one was supposed to view this thing. A piece of lucite itself is clear. However when you put one in a busy city square and everybody and their brother walks over it, it tends to be scratched to nearly opaque, meaning you cannot figure out what you are looking at until somebody else, like a tour guide, informs you what it is and why it is there. Presumably the artist is fuming somewhere about the miserable philistines daring to tread upon his small, unmarked window that is flush with street level.

We looked around, we poked around, we saw some museums from the outside, we saw the television tower the East Germans built in order to impress the West. I have to say, it was one very big, very shiny television tower. It was neat to look at, though I seem to remember it never actually managed to transmit television programs.

An interesting bit about the TV tower was the debate that ensued upon the sunlight hitting the large, shiny globe that was attached to the tower. The globe was created from several squarish panels. As the sunlight hit the thing, it reflected off in a cross shape, greatly amusing the West. However, the East claimed it was actually a "plus for Communism" and nothing was really achieved or important about the story, but I can’t remember much else to tell you. Come to think of it, that really isn’t an interesting bit at all.

We ended the tour near Alexanderplatz, a square in eastern Berlin where the democracy demonstrations really took off in the closing overs of the communist rule of East Germany. We heard a history of how it all happened and I have to say it was a pretty interesting story, though I have big sections of it missing from my memory, so I won’t bother relating it. Once again, I advise you to do reading on your own.

Either way, we hooked up with a gentleman by the name of Rex on the tour and he was very helpful with such things as showing us where the hell to go. Rex was taking a break between assignments for his consulting firm. His previous job was in Stockholm, Sweden and he did not have too much trouble convincing any of us to visit the place (in the summer, obviously). We wandered the streets of Berlin while Rex filled us in on Germany. Information like the fact you can't find any movies in English. They don’t subtitle, they translate into spoken German. They also have a break midway through the flicks so people can visit the snack bar and load up on more beer.

We grabbed a meal at a nearby restaurant and immediately figured out that there was not way in hell we were going to order properly. For instance, what the hell is "Fruhstucke"? Well, it’s "breakfast", I can tell you that now, but we were wondering about this for a while. To save significant time and trouble, we just ordered the schnitzel, as we at least had an idea of what it was. I mean "we" excepting Troy, who was trying to order from the dinner menu. The waitress attempted to inform him that was the wrong time of day for that part of the menu but failed due to both of them speaking different languages and her apparent distaste for us. We all eventually figured out which menu from which to order and things got rolling. Fortunately, "beer" sounds the same in German as in English and we got those without incident. However when Troy did actually get his food, he dug into something that turned out to be refrigerated cold. I liked it; it tasted like pickled herring. Everyone else tasted it and hated it because it tasted like pickled herring. Incidentally, the prostitute at the bar appeared to hate us either despite or because she was originally from the US (she spoke German to everybody else, and occasionally blurted out a rather loud sentence in English to no one in particular). We found out later that the area we were in was well known for being a great place to find a hooker.

Rex filled us in on his job, he works for a telecommunications consulting company at which point I began grilling him on job openings in Europe, since I happen to work in telecommunications. However, his company apparently makes people work in the US for a bit before they ship them overseas. Damn. Rex also filled us in on something we had long suspected, that being American jobs suck.

In Europe, you start with one month of vacation and have the luxury of taking at least a week when travelling anywhere. None of this long weekend crap, and if they go someplace, they stay for the full week instead of, say, travelling to five different cities all around Europe in that same week as we were forced to because Americans, of course, start with two weeks of paid vacation.

We decided to go from there to get the free beers from Planet Hollywood for which we were given coupons (another plus from our tour) and eventually made our way back to the train station to grab our bags and leave Rex to other adventures. We headed to our hostel courtesy of the de facto free public transportation system and checked into what would be our finest sleeping arrangements.

The Circus Hostel was originally at a different location. However, they moved to a new location not but a few days previous and, upon their move, decided to put in all new stuff. Brand new pine bed frames with brand spankin’ new mattresses and glaringly white new linen. This was some fine living for smelly backpackers. The linen, incidentally, was a remarkable experience, if for no other reason than what Rob did with it.

To explain Rob, I must relate this story: one morning, while we were eating breakfast at Rob’s girlfriend’s apartment, it came to our attention that Rob may actually have a talent; that being the manipulation of some manner of Hungarian crepe in a polished and smooth manner. All present, were literally agog at the fact Rob could pick up, move, apply jelly to, spin into a tube and eat this crepe-thing with quick, nimble movements, while neither tearing this thin little pancake even one bit nor accidentally sticking a fork into his arm. To understand why this was so remarkable is that this is the same Rob who has accidentally stabbed himself and once knocked himself unconscious, so simple motor skills are something we took as a loss with Rob. However, he can suddenly shock you with some surprising abilities.

I mention this because the Germans have a unique version of bedding. Just hear me out, it will make some sort of sense, eventually. The krauts have one regular sheet that is applied to the mattress in the standard mattress-covering manner. There is the pillowcase, of course, as well as the comforter. There is also a sheet designed like a large pillowcase into which one puts the comforter, protecting it from the grimy person using the bed. I believe the proper term for this sort of thing is "duvet". Guess what three people didn’t know any of that.

I just used the silly thing like a regular sheet. Troy slid into it like it was a sleeping bag. Rob... well, we were discussing this sheet as we were making our beds and attempts were made to put it around the mattress. These all failed due the opening being way too small, and Troy and I were discussing other possible uses for this sheet when Rob asks, "You mean its not supposed to go around the mattress?" We both turn around and see that Rob had somehow gotten this thing halfway up the length of the mattress. It was not entirely unlike seeing somebody pour half of a two-liter bottle into a coffee mug and being genuinely confused as to why he shouldn’t have been able to do that. This, presumably, is the same sort of Robness that improves his Spanish the more he drinks.

Rob removed this enormous pillowcase from the mattress and I’m not sure how he used it that night, though I imagine he might have just thrown it onto the floor or, something else that wouldn’t surprise me, slept with it sitting on top of the comforter. This last idea is what I prefer to think happened, as it would fit in with the general Rob plan of taking revenge on anything that confuses him by confusing it back.

We hit the Jewish Quarter for dinner where we all managed to order from the correct menu. And we all ordered variations of schnitzel.

By the way, should you happen to eat sauerkraut in the US, you are having something that is not actually German. German sauerkraut is significantly blander than American sauerkraut. It is probably the only ethnic food I’ve ever had where the natives prefer a blander version of a food than is eaten in the States. So now, not only are the Germans at fault for two world wars and the Holocaust but it appears we can now also be blamed for Taco Bell.

That evening was pretty calm. Rob had come down with The Plague and was ready to die, so he went to bed. I was exhausted but I stayed awake. Troy was awake and ready to party, what with it being St. Patrick’s Day. Apparently we were in the best spot in the world for a St. Patrick’s Day party, that being anywhere other than Ireland (they don’t understand why people should spend a day celebrating their real or imaginary Irish heritage by getting plowed). I however, was dead tired and in no mood to hit the town. Thus, Troy and I hung out in the hostel, drank some beer and talked to a friendly English couple. Rob appeared, but only long enough to assure us that he was much better off staying in bed. The evening wound down and we all went to sleep. The next day was due to start very early and be very busy.