I just came back from a long-weekend in
Germany. Little boy and I went to Berlin to visit older boy, who is in Berlin
for an internship this fall. We didn’t visit any of the conventional tourist
attractions, except the Reichstag building, the parliament, from
where Germany (and Greece) are being ruled. Most of the time we spent in East
Berlin, the former Soviet sector.
We went to a suburb east of the city center
to watch a football (soccer of course) game with FC Union in 2. Bundesliga. The game wasn’t too
good, but it was really cool to be on the packed stand with 20.000 crazy people. The
red shirts of FC Union bear a witness of the working-class background of the
club. The supporters called their team Eisern Union (Iron Union).
We were surrounded by factory workers who enjoyed their free weekend, and
unemployed craftsmen who lost their jobs to the Polish and Lithuanians who do their work for a lower price. Citizens of the European Union.
Near the tram station in Warschauer Strasse
(Warsaw Street), we passed a homeless young man sitting on the side walk with
his sleeping bag and a filthy dog. In front of him, he had three cups
labeled “food”, “weed” and “BMW”. In the “food” cup there were some coins, the
other two were almost empty. I dropped 2 Euro in the “weed” cup and 3 Euro in
his “BMW” cup. Homeless people have dreams for the future too. And in the meantime
some weed may be good for the comport, in the brutal capitalist world.
At night we went to concerts in small
obscure clubs in old East German industry buildings, to enjoy Berlin’s
underground music scene. The beer was good, and people were nice and friendly. Some
bands were good, some not so good. The lead guitar player in one of the
garage-rock bands was a 48 yo professor at Humboldt University. He performed
under a stage-name/pseudonym to avoid mixing business and pleasure. I immediately felt a
connection with him; a guy with a PhD and some obscure and secret cultural interests
on the side.
It was good to get away for a while. Nobody
yelling at me. Nobody asking me difficult questions. Nobody interrogating me about scary thoughts in the darkest corners of my soul. It was a true
feeling of freedom, for a while >:)
(Some pictures taken in Berlin, RAW Gelande, former train repair station and now subcultural center (top), football game with FC Union (2nd), East Berlin's famous Ampfelmann (3rd), and garage rock concert (bottom). The Humboldt professor is the guitar player to the right. Fortunately, the picture is to unfocused to see his face.)
