The Events of Sunday, June 26, 2011

                It was drizzling lightly when I left for my walk, so I did not travel far. I explored the playground at the end of the block, and then I followed a path through the wooded area next to the river. As I looped back, I thought I would check on our car, to make sure it was safe and sound. I looked and looked, but I found no car. I thought to myself, “Nuts, now I have to go home and explain to Pam that I lost our car again.” (In Leon, I had parked in a tow-away zone, so Caitlin and I had to visit the police station to reclaim our car.) When I reached the corner, I was glad to realize that this was not our block after all. In the block ahead, I could see the shiny roof of our faithful little Renault. Whew!

                After breakfast, Ben took us on the S-Bahn (Schnell-Bahn means “fast track”, the faster above-ground express trains) and then the U-Bahn (Unter-Bahn means the “underground track, the slower subway line) to The American Church in Berlin. Housed in a vast building from the former Church of Germany, this congregation calls itself ecumenical, but it felt pretty Lutheran to us: the pastor wore Lutheran vestments, we followed the Lutheran liturgy, and we sang from Lutheran hymnals. At the beginning of the service, new-comers introduce themselves with a cordless microphone. We listened to visitors from Ohio, Canada, Israel, London, and Ghana, so it was clear that we were a diverse group. The congregation numbered about 100, and after the service many people welcomed us.

                During the organ prelude (“Largo” from the Winter movement of Vivaldi’s Four Seasons), we noticed that the church’s acoustics were good for music, but poor for amplified speaking. That worked out fine, because the music was much better than the sermon. While the organist played, the altar girl lit the candle. It amused us to see that, under her white frock, she wore blue jeans and white cowboy boots. The Scriptures were Jeremiah 28:5-9; Romans 6:12-23; and Matthew 10:40-42. Pastor Stephan used the last of these to teach about welcoming others in practical ways. We heard a small but talented chamber choir, made up of four women and two men (including the pastor). The multi-talented accompanist joined them on piano, clarinet, and organ. All remained seated to hear the organ postlude, “Fanfare and Trumpet Tune” by Wayne Wold. As we files out the door, confirmation class students applied today’s lesson by handing out bottled water (“whoever gives a drink of water in the name of a disciple will earn a disciple’s reward.”) That was a nice touch.

                The U-Bahn and S-Bahn took us back home, where we changed clothes and ate lunch. Then we hopped back on the U-Bahn to a double-decker bus (#100) for a ten-minute sight-seeing tour of the city center. From there we walked to Brandenburg Gate, now empty of the stages and booths from yesterday’s festivities, and took some photos. Then we visited the much-publicized “Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe and Information Centre”. This is a two-part experience, taking up a whole city block. Above ground is a grid of 2170 large stone concrete blocks. Below ground is a museum that takes the visitor through six experiences. First is a hall of photos and placards that narrate the history of the Holocaust, staring in the early 1930s. Next is a dark room with a grid of lit floor tiles. Each tile contained hand-written evidence and explanatory placards of the Jewish experience. In the following room we wove through walls of family stories which were presented with photos, videos, and more text. After this was a darkened room in which a single name was projected onto all four walls, and a voice (first in German, then in English) narrated the tragic story of the named Jew. The next exhibit hall was lined with maps and placards describing the locations of Jewish extermination camps. In between the displays were audio nooks with handsets where we could hear Jewish eye-witnesses describe their experiences from eight of these extermination locations. After this we entered a hall of computer terminals on which users could further research Jewish persecution. Finally we reached a theater room where we watched a video of a Jewish survivor. She spoke at great length about her own experiences and her efforts to educate youth.

                Our impressions of this museum were mixed. It was an overwhelming amount of material, and it left us a bit subdued. We had learned much of this material in our December visit to the Holocaust Museum in Washington DC, which was more thorough and more thoughtful in its design. We appreciated this museum’s organizational scheme, for it helped us to access the information through different media. (I have heard that many people in this internet age – though not us, I hope – can only handle limited chunks of information.) And some of the material did seem new to me. I wonder, had I ever heard before about the mobile extermination trucks? Built like an airtight RV, guards herded several dozen people inside, turned on the motor, revved the engine, fed the exhaust directly inside (thus poisoning hem with carbon monoxide), and waited for the screaming to end. How maliciously clever.

                Next we headed to the Berlin Wall Museum (Museum Haus am Checkpoint Charlie). Though Rick Steves highly recommended this museum, it earned mixed reviews from the Taylors. While offering unique artifacts and video footage, it also overwhelmed us with print that covered the walls from ceiling to floor in some rooms. The organization scheme, if there was one, was beyond our comprehension. Its maze-like sequence of rooms must have once belonged to four or five apartments. Through all the chaos, the museum did give us all a better grasp on the tragic and heroic history of the Berlin Wall. Personally, I have always felt a bit detached from the drama. I did not know how desperate the East Germans were to escape their country. Neither did I recognize that Germans in general – and Berliners in particular – had family and friendship connections that were disrupted by the Wall. Residents of West Berlin routinely spent Sunday afternoons visiting family members in East Berlin. They would bring gifts and keep up family traditions as best they could. But at the end of the day, they would return to the West, and the East Germans had to stay in the East. The Wall was the enemy of the people. I get it now.  

                Many exhibits described the tunnel-building efforts to help East Germans escape under the Wall. In one case, a group of University students and faculty collaborated to build a tunnel under the wall. Here is an interesting fact to contemplate: all the West Germans who helped were students of natural sciences (medicine, engineering, etc.). Why were there no students of history or political science or sociology or theology? Hmmm…

                We ended our time in the museum by watching the last 45 minutes of “Night Crossing” (1982), a movie about two families escaping East Germany in a hot-air balloon. It was nearly 8:00 when we departed, and we walked toward a park to have our picnic dinner. However, just around the corner we discovered several empty picnic tables, for nearby cafes that were now closed. So we enjoyed our dinner and caught our last ride on the U-Bahn. At home, we cleaned up the dishes, packed our bags, and went to bed.

                Today was an anniversary day. We departed from Elk Grove exactly one year ago today. Also, on June 26, 1963 – that’s 48 years ago today – a John F. Kennedy made his famous “Ich bin ein Berliner” speech. (See http://urbanlegends.about.com/cs/historical/a/jfk_berliner.htm for both the mythic and the true version of the story.) Indeed, after two days, this place feels so familiar that we might say the same about ourselves. We have come to enjoy and respect this bustling, spirited city of Berlin.