Bratwurst, weiswurst, bier and memorials

So, after many days away I have an internet connection at my hotel in Berlin and can write a bit today.  It's been quite a few weeks without my electronic lifeline to the world and I have had to drink far too many cups of coffee to take advantage of Wi-Fi at Starbucks.

Two weeks seems so little time and yet I feel like I've gone through a lifetime of worry and angst over my dad.  He broke his hip last week. Oy vey! Had surgery on Sunday and is finally beginning to show signs of recovery.  I feel so sad for him to have to go through an operation and the subsequent recovery and rehab that this will require.  Somehow I feel his body is just getting worn out and tired but his spirit and desire to stay alive is still so strong.  I feel his presence very strongly right now and walking around today in Berlin that sense is even stronger.

Today - our first day of three in this strange city was raining and cold.  Of course, since it was such a grey and miserable day we decided to visit the Holocaust Memorial by Peter Eisenman.  This is right next to the Brandenburg Gate in a large plot of land in what is essentially, the centre of Berlin.  The memorial is made up of over 2,000 large dark grey concrete columns of varying heights on undulating paths in a huge unmarked maze.  At first I didn't get any real sense of what this was trying to say but as I walked further into the centre of the memorial I began to experience a deep sense of discomfort and disorientation.  At the centre of the maze the stone columns got higher and there was less light and it became somewhat menacing and claustrophobic.  You could hear voices of other people walking through the maze but would only catch quick glimpses of others.  I found it a very powerful memorial. 

Underground there is a museum and archive relating to the Holocaust.  Like a moth to a flame I had to go through this exhibition.  Again, it was an intense and saddening experience.  I thought so much of my parents and my aunt and uncle and all their cousins who survived the war and also thought of their families and those who didn't. I fought the urge to get angry at the teenagers who seemed to be in the museum on school trips, giggling and playing with iPods.  How could I feel so overwhelmed by this when they seemed so untouched, but then I remembered what it was to be a teenager and remembered that at 14 or so I also felt untouched by the sadness in the world. All of this is history and yet, for me it is completely alive. To walk through this exhibition with its harrowing audio testimony and vivid photographs of life during the war years in the Lodz ghetto and in the concentration camps whilst upstairs was bustling Berlin was quite an experience. 

I need to be here in Berlin to see that what was, over 60 years ago, is no longer.  This is a different place with different values.  This country is alive and dynamic and open in a way that you need to see and experience in order to let go of the past.  Sure, Ralph and I joke about the history of Germany and there is a darkness to our humour, but for the most part, it feels fine here.  Healing takes time and maybe the youth and vibrancy of Berlin is what I so enjoy.  This is a city that is looking ahead but is also finally acknowledging its past.

I do understand most of the German I hear.  It is so like Yiddish (or is that the other way round?) and today a woman came up to me and asked me how to get upstairs to the terrace of the cafe we were in and I realised she was speaking German and I totally understood her, but could only answer her in English.  Perhaps I'll have a go at speaking a bit of German/Yiddish patois and see if it works.

We walked much too much and far too long today.  My feet hurt, my back hurts, but it is nice to be away with Ralph.  We laughed and cried together today. I am so pleased he's here.
Right now I'm going to relax before another round of bratwurst.

My father seems to be slowly getting better, so perhaps I can stop worrying, but not completely. He is with me all the time on this visit. So strange and yet, so fitting right now.