A Few Stories from the Past - Part 2
Berlin
In the spring of 1990, East Germany was no longer what it was when I was born. It was a country in transition: uncertain, nervous and a little anxious. That's when my family decided to take a trip to the nation's capital to feel it all first-hand. So, we piled into the family's white Lada and made the 4 hour drive to Berlin. We had been to Berlin before on family vacation, but there are three key things I remember about this special trip.
First, chipping away at and sitting on top of the Berlin Wall. What an awesome atmosphere this was. Hundreds and thousands of people sitting on and standing near the Wall, cheering and chiseling away at it. My dad, too, had brought a hammer and chisel. He worked long and hard on getting us some pieces, which was tough with the re-bar-enforced concrete. I suppose for most people this was for touristy value - for us, it was about helping dismantle the evil fence that separated families, friends and a people for almost 30 years. I remember somebody pulling me up on top of the wall. It was tall and wide. Solid. So there I sat: 10 years old, taking it all in. The international camaraderie below me. And in front of me, the historic change that would reunite my country.
Secondly, this trip to Berlin introduced me to the English language. My family visited the Reichstag, the German parliament. This building, of course, has a powerful and somewhat dark history, none of which I knew anything about. But I did feel the imposing presence of leaders past and the intimidating power of this building where laws were made and countries were run. When we walked in, I saw brochures about the Reichstag - I picked up three: one German, one French and one English, a language I had now been studying since January. When given the choice between Russian and English, two thirds of my classmates jumped ship. Something about English being more useful in the future. I took the brochures to see if side by side I could translate them. New dream job? Interpreter.
Third, and perhaps most jarring, is my memory of us walking around Berlin freely. Even though this was 20 years ago, I vividly remember crossing under the Brandenburg Gate - the large structure that marked the border between East and West Berlin. The Gate seemed huge. When I saw it again two years ago, I thought I was looking at a replica. Even at 10 years old, I knew people got shot walking through this gate. I remember looking around to search for border guards. But there were none. It was a beautiful spring day, and I was walking freely beside my parents and sisters.
And holding my breath, I stepped from East to West Berlin. And there were no shots fired that day. Or any day after.
In the spring of 1990, East Germany was no longer what it was when I was born. It was a country in transition: uncertain, nervous and a little anxious. That's when my family decided to take a trip to the nation's capital to feel it all first-hand. So, we piled into the family's white Lada and made the 4 hour drive to Berlin. We had been to Berlin before on family vacation, but there are three key things I remember about this special trip.
First, chipping away at and sitting on top of the Berlin Wall. What an awesome atmosphere this was. Hundreds and thousands of people sitting on and standing near the Wall, cheering and chiseling away at it. My dad, too, had brought a hammer and chisel. He worked long and hard on getting us some pieces, which was tough with the re-bar-enforced concrete. I suppose for most people this was for touristy value - for us, it was about helping dismantle the evil fence that separated families, friends and a people for almost 30 years. I remember somebody pulling me up on top of the wall. It was tall and wide. Solid. So there I sat: 10 years old, taking it all in. The international camaraderie below me. And in front of me, the historic change that would reunite my country.
Secondly, this trip to Berlin introduced me to the English language. My family visited the Reichstag, the German parliament. This building, of course, has a powerful and somewhat dark history, none of which I knew anything about. But I did feel the imposing presence of leaders past and the intimidating power of this building where laws were made and countries were run. When we walked in, I saw brochures about the Reichstag - I picked up three: one German, one French and one English, a language I had now been studying since January. When given the choice between Russian and English, two thirds of my classmates jumped ship. Something about English being more useful in the future. I took the brochures to see if side by side I could translate them. New dream job? Interpreter.
Third, and perhaps most jarring, is my memory of us walking around Berlin freely. Even though this was 20 years ago, I vividly remember crossing under the Brandenburg Gate - the large structure that marked the border between East and West Berlin. The Gate seemed huge. When I saw it again two years ago, I thought I was looking at a replica. Even at 10 years old, I knew people got shot walking through this gate. I remember looking around to search for border guards. But there were none. It was a beautiful spring day, and I was walking freely beside my parents and sisters.
And holding my breath, I stepped from East to West Berlin. And there were no shots fired that day. Or any day after.
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