Being Jewish in Berlin
One of the goals of my travel to Germany was to familiarize myself with the Jewish community. Being successful in this endeavor required some tenacity, as it would in almost any country other than the USA. There's a saying in Yiddish that being Jewish is difficult. Of course, the implication of the saying is that there are so many requirements that Jews must meet.
The most obvious difficulty in Europe is that the security around the synagogue is so heavy that the first few times you show up, you have to plan for a time-consuming grilling before you are admitted. By the time I left Berlin, all the guards at the shul knew me. I began to think of them more as greeters than as guards.
The irony is that, as far as I know, there have been no dangerous incidents at German synagogues since the War, at least no more so than in the US. The potential problem in Germany is not the Germans, but that there is a large, suspect, unassimilated Muslim community. There have been some acts of vandalism in cemeteries and Jewish institutions, but I don't know of any attacks.
Germany, officially even more than culturally and socially, is very welcoming and supportive of Jews and of the Jewish community (Jüdische Gemeinde). Germany has the fastest growing Jewish community outside of Israel. Germany is perhaps Israel's strongest supporter other than the US. Germany may be the only country that requires all school children to participate in a holocaust studies course. Every day, hundreds of German school children are visiting one or another of the historic concentration camps.
When you socialize with the Jews in the synagogue, you learn that almost everyone is an immigrant from eastern Europe. Many of the remainder are from Israel. Some are eastern Europeans who first went to Israel, and then came to Germany afterwards. Every once in a while you'll meet a survivor, or a returnee, or the child of a survivor or returnee. Hebrew and Russian are the predominant languages of conversation among the Jews over 40 years old. The bare fact is that Germany is the best hope for Jews trying to get out of eastern Europe – at least aside from the US.
Younger Jews speak German well. They converse among themselves in German, occasionally resorting to Russian or Hebrew. The rabbi communicates with the congregation in German. He gives his divrei Torah in German (with a thick Israeli accent). Talk about a challenge understanding the nuances of Pirkei Avot, when you have to determine if he's speaking Hebrew, German, or Yiddish.
There's no such thing as a conservative shul, as we know it, in Germany. There are Masorti congregations, but they are, for the most part, very liberal. The typical synagogue in Germany, the home and birthplace of Reform Judaism, has an abbreviated service – when they have services at all, and many of the trappings of Reform. Some have an organ; some have a choir, usually not Jewish; some inconsistently have separate seating; most are egalitarian. The only alternative to Liberal is what we would call Orthodox. (Actually, another option is Chabad.) There is one Orthodox synagogue in Berlin; other than Chabad, it's the only one that has daily services and Shabbat afternoon services.
The service at the orthodox shul is very similar to ours at Congregation SI. The sanctuary is cavernous, and without a microphone, it is sometimes difficult to understand, given the reverberations and the noise level of those conversing instead of davening. They use some distinct melodies, but some are the same. The entire service is led by a chazan, who also reads Torah. Of course, men and women sit separately. There is no common siddur, but since one edition outnumbers others, the rabbi occasionally mentions a page in that siddur, if we do something off path, like the omer. There was a paperback siddur with German translations, but the only other translated siddur was the Artscroll Russian edition. I saw no translated Chumash.
People that come to services at the orthodox shul are not uniformly religious. This is especially true on the regular Friday evenings when college students attend. In fact, orthodox Judaism appears to be attractive to non-Jews as well.
At the shul, out of the regular 40 or 50 Shabbat attendees, I met about 5 or 6 who are converts. In addition, I met another handful who are at various stages of conversion, somewhere between thinking about it and having done considerable learning. The converts are usually German young people from Protestant (in German: Evangelische) families. One young man told me that he had been active in the church as a lay minister.
I asked why a German would ever want to become an orthodox Jew. All said that it has to do with the belief system. I also asked if it were realistic to expect to find a Jewish woman to date or to marry. They all said that, while it isn't easy, they had every expectation of success.
I had trouble socializing with the Jews of my age, as most of them spoke almost no English, and spoke German with accents that made if difficult for me to understand. I was able to socialize with a small number (one couple my age, and several younger individuals), and we had nice conversations about Jewish life in Berlin, and about more general topics as well. I was interested to learn that there is no German kosher symbol. Only certain imported foods, mostly from Scandinavia or France, have any symbol indicating kashrut. Among German products, the orthodox rabbis have compiled a list of prepared foods that are acceptable. One goes shopping with the list in hand. In Berlin there is one kosher meat distributor, who sells meat brought in frozen from Holland or France.
While walking – with kippah on my head -- along the sidewalk on one of Berlin's main streets, one of my companions mentioned to me that the police recommend not wearing a kippah in public. One is advised to wear some other kind of hat to minimize the likelihood of being a target. I don't know if I view that as paranoia, but I do view it as irony. The four of us discussing that subject were walking along the boulevard: I wore my kippah; two of the others were dressed normally, but had tzitzit hanging down; the fourth, with long curled sideburns, was wearing the sort of “standard” orthodox Shabbat garb of black suit and felt hat, also with tzitzit (we were going to have a beer, motzei Shabbat, immediately after havdalah).
Sunday, May 17, 2009
Thursday, May 14, 2009
Dreaming in German
The first night back from my trip I dreamed for the first time entirely in German. The subject of the dream seems to have been responsibility. Details are, of course, fuzzy the morning after.
The dream dealt with witnessing a mugging. I don't recall if it was an actual mugging or a theoretical discussion. A vicious, intimidating mugger beat up someone while one or more people looked on. The ensuing discussion, involving witnesses and other parties, revolved around the witnesses, not the mugger. My recollection of the discussion is that it took place in a legal setting, like a court or in an investigation.
One side of the discussion said that the situation was so fearful for the witnesses, that they were intimidated into inaction, fearing that the mugger would turn on them. The mugger seemed to them to be capable of doing them great harm if they exposed themselves in that fashion.
The other side said that the witnesses had a responsibility to confront the mugger to get him to stop. The proponents of this argument were divided into two groups: One held that the witnesses should have taken direct action to thwart the mugger's designs. The other argued that the witnesses should have used non-violent means – reasoning, deception, whatever – to get the mugger to stop.
I was surprised, thinking back on my dream, that there was nobody who said, “It's not my problem,” or “The victim deserved it,” or “The victim wouldn't have done anything for me, if I had been victimized.” I have no doubt that a separate set of witnesses would have included people with one or more of these points of view.
I recall the nearly unanimous opinion of the participants that intervention would have been appropriate, even among the witnesses. There was an assignment of a measure of guilt to the witnesses, due to their failure to intervene, even in the face of great mortal danger to themselves.
Even in a cloudy state of consciousness when I awoke in the middle of the night, I saw that this dream was an allegory on the Holocaust.
The dream dealt with witnessing a mugging. I don't recall if it was an actual mugging or a theoretical discussion. A vicious, intimidating mugger beat up someone while one or more people looked on. The ensuing discussion, involving witnesses and other parties, revolved around the witnesses, not the mugger. My recollection of the discussion is that it took place in a legal setting, like a court or in an investigation.
One side of the discussion said that the situation was so fearful for the witnesses, that they were intimidated into inaction, fearing that the mugger would turn on them. The mugger seemed to them to be capable of doing them great harm if they exposed themselves in that fashion.
The other side said that the witnesses had a responsibility to confront the mugger to get him to stop. The proponents of this argument were divided into two groups: One held that the witnesses should have taken direct action to thwart the mugger's designs. The other argued that the witnesses should have used non-violent means – reasoning, deception, whatever – to get the mugger to stop.
I was surprised, thinking back on my dream, that there was nobody who said, “It's not my problem,” or “The victim deserved it,” or “The victim wouldn't have done anything for me, if I had been victimized.” I have no doubt that a separate set of witnesses would have included people with one or more of these points of view.
I recall the nearly unanimous opinion of the participants that intervention would have been appropriate, even among the witnesses. There was an assignment of a measure of guilt to the witnesses, due to their failure to intervene, even in the face of great mortal danger to themselves.
Even in a cloudy state of consciousness when I awoke in the middle of the night, I saw that this dream was an allegory on the Holocaust.
Oh, and by the way....
Some General Observations
Buildings and Architecture
Berlin was largely destroyed in the War. As a result, the buildings that existed before the Wall came down (in 1989) belong to three types: 1) a few old buildings that were habitable with some repairs, 2) completely new (think 1950 – 1960) buildings, and 3) buildings that were reconstructed to look like the buildings that used to be there (primarily palaces and some government buildings). Some of the new buildings, especially in the West, were designed by important architects of that time period. Most of the buildings in the east were designed according to the socialist workers' concepts of monumental (or at least big) and poor quality.
Since the Wall was removed along with the “no-man's land and mine fields, valuable property became available in what had been, historically, the very middle of the city. The center of the city, Pariser Platz, right in front of the Brandenburg Gate at the beginning of the avenue Unter den Linden again became a focal point. The Reichstag building right around the corner was rehabilitated to be the seat of the German Bundestag (parliament). The Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe is just down the street. Potsdamer Platz, a subject of other blog postings, is completely new with shining buildings and eye-popping architecture.
In addition, they are now replacing, among a few other old buildings, the city palace of the Prussian kings. They are placing this new construction on the completely empty lot where it stood until bombs destroyed it in the war. The East German government had razed it and replaced it with an ugly government b
uilding, now removed.Much like Washington DC or like the imperial parts of Paris, Berlin has broad avenues. In fact, there are almost no narrow lanes like one might see in old European cities. Roads are not in a grid, and it's hard to get your bearings, but most of the roads are wide and accommodating. Distances are relatively long between sites, like in Washington.
There are signs at most corners specifying which direction and how far the closest 3 to 6 sites may be found.
Ground Water
Throughout the city you see huge, usually blue, overhead pipes 8 to 12 inches in diameter spanning streets and following streets. These pipes often have traffic signs attached to them where they cross a street. I wondered what they were. In a city that has only underground electrical wires, cable TV, and phone lines, why would they have these obtrusive, above-ground things that look like water mains?
Turns out that the water table in Berlin is only inches below the ground. Historically, when buildings were small, this was not a problem. In fact, buildings hundreds of years ago until the beginning of the 20th Century usually had wooden foundations. The high water table actually acted to preserve these foundations, sometimes for centuries.
Once they started building sky-scrapers (such a building is called a Hochhaus, or high house), they could not pour concrete foundations with all the ground water in the way. They had to pipe it out, and that's what those huge pipes are all about. Anywhere there is a construction site in the vicinity is likely to have such pipes sticking out of the ground. I don't know what happens when the construction is done. Since I don't see such pipes around Potsdamer Platz, for example, I assume they are removed.
In the meantime, the little houses with wooden foundations suffer rotting foundations.
Jewish Day School
There are a couple of Jewish day schools in town. Perhaps the most successful is Chabad's. At the orthodox shul I frequented, very few kids show up. At Chabad many more come to services. The really gratifying turnout is the attendance by college students, about every other week at the Chabad and alternating weeks at the orthodox shul.
Buying Domestic Cars
In Germany 8 of 10 cars are German cars. Other than them, you see Toyotas and Hyudais, an occasional Suzuki, and that's about it. One is compelled to ask, “How do domestic cars compete with Japanese cars?” I haven't studied the tariff structures, but you can be sure that Germans are buying cars that are fuel efficient, as the price of gas is between 150% and 200% of the price in the US, largely due to taxation.
In addition, Berlin has a designated “Umweltzone” (Environmental Zone) within the S-Bahn perimeter. Cars must carry a sticker to be permitted entry into that zone.
Economic Crisis
Everyone blames the US for the crisis in which we find ourselves these days. It's not as bad in Germany as in the US, but layoffs are increasing. The government has an almost universal safety net. Some people fall through, but for the most part, people don't seem to be losing their homes and don't seem to be homeless in general. By the way, religious and social organizations as well as the government itself provides support for the homeless. You see almost no homeless on the streets. As in any big city, you do see a some panhandling and some people performing for donations on the street or in the subway.
Interest rates, though, look a lot better than in the US. While it's hard to find an account these days in the States paying more than 3% (and that's difficult), I've seen numerous banks paying 4.35% and more – for savings accounts.
Home again home again, jiggedy jog...
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
Abflug
Got up earlier than my alarm, finished packing, and went to breakfast early. I took the 109 bus to the airport. Luckily, I boarded near the beginning of the route, as it was standing room only by the time we got to the airport.
Check-in was a little bumpy, as my ticket was under my middle name and therefore didn't match my passport. I'm usually careful about that, and thought I had been specifically careful about it. I think the problem is that my Skymiles account automatically filled out my ticket information. I'll have to change my account so that it's in my first name.
Furthermore, I set off the body scanner, as did almost everyone. Even the titanium in my ankle beeped when they did a manual scan. But shortly it's off to home and family.
My seat-mate was a Polish lady who spoke neither German nor English. Good news is that I was not bothered or annoyed by a talkative neighbor. Bad news: I couldn't practice German (or English). By the way, none of the reading lamps worked in the airplane.
The flight to Atlanta was not as stress-free. After sitting on the tarmac for 45 minutes, waiting for our turn to take off, the pilot announced that we were going back to the gate because something was wrong. We would stay in the plane, he said, while technicians looked at things. After a half hour or so, we were advised that we would be deplaning and taking another to Atlanta. We waited in the terminal for a little while when we were told that we could get back on the same plane, as the problem had been resolved.
We boarded again and were shortly told that we would have to get off the plane, because the problem had not, in fact, been resolved. We sat in the terminal for another stretch while things were moved from the first plane to another plane, and eventually, about 3 hours after our original boarding time, we boarded the new plane. The lady I had now helped three times to stow her carry-on asked if I had had a nice dinner. When I looked quizzically, she asked, “You didn't get a meal voucher?” I had not even thought of asking for a voucher. She is apparently experienced in delays. She claims that every flight she has ever been on was delayed.
Arriving at home in Atlanta after 11:00 PM, I had finally been on the go for 22 hours and in planes and airports for 19 hours. But it's good to be home.
I'll be posting some additional information that I found interesting tomorrow and following days.
Abflug
Got up earlier than my alarm, finished packing, and went to breakfast early. I took the 109 bus to the airport. Luckily, I boarded near the beginning of the route, as it was standing room only by the time we got to the airport.
Check-in was a little bumpy, as my ticket was under my middle name and therefore didn't match my passport. I'm usually careful about that, and thought I had been specifically careful about it. I think the problem is that my Skymiles account automatically filled out my ticket information. I'll have to change my account so that it's in my first name.
Furthermore, I set off the body scanner, as did almost everyone. Even the titanium in my ankle beeped when they did a manual scan. But shortly it's off to home and family.
My seat-mate was a Polish lady who spoke neither German nor English. Good news is that I was not bothered or annoyed by a talkative neighbor. Bad news: I couldn't practice German (or English). By the way, none of the reading lamps worked in the airplane.
The flight to Atlanta was not as stress-free. After sitting on the tarmac for 45 minutes, waiting for our turn to take off, the pilot announced that we were going back to the gate because something was wrong. We would stay in the plane, he said, while technicians looked at things. After a half hour or so, we were advised that we would be deplaning and taking another to Atlanta. We waited in the terminal for a little while when we were told that we could get back on the same plane, as the problem had been resolved.
We boarded again and were shortly told that we would have to get off the plane, because the problem had not, in fact, been resolved. We sat in the terminal for another stretch while things were moved from the first plane to another plane, and eventually, about 3 hours after our original boarding time, we boarded the new plane. The lady I had now helped three times to stow her carry-on asked if I had had a nice dinner. When I looked quizzically, she asked, “You didn't get a meal voucher?” I had not even thought of asking for a voucher. She is apparently experienced in delays. She claims that every flight she has ever been on was delayed.
Arriving at home in Atlanta after 11:00 PM, I had finally been on the go for 22 hours and in planes and airports for 19 hours. But it's good to be home.
I'll be posting some additional information that I found interesting tomorrow and following days.
One last time
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
Winding it up
Today, my last day in Berlin, I spent my time doing a final “walk-through.” I made sure that I saw all the locations I had meant to see. I walked my legs off, again. And I assured myself that I knew where things are and how to get there. In particular I walked through the Gendarmenmarkt, Nikolaiviertel, the area around Oranienburger Tor and the shops in that neighborhood, and Alexanderplatz.
There were a few places I didn't see on this visit. The inside of most synagogues are not accessible except for Shabbat services. I didn't particularly want to go to a different synagogue each week, so I saw only two synagogues. The Gemeinde is housed in the so-called New Synagogue on Oranienburgerstr,, where it maintains a museum, which I didn't visit. Only one synagogue, according to the Jüdischen Gemeinde, has visiting hours for tourists, for which they charge an admission fee. In addition, I didn't visit the Sachsenhausen Concentration Camp, which is, ironically, located in Oranienburg, north of the city.
After walking around one of the historic districts, I went back the LOXX miniatures exhibit, so that I could take more photos. Again I'll say the place is amazing. I think I liked it more than most of the other exhibit/museum places I visited.
I walked Unter den Linden again, and I made a point to stop at the Singakadamie (Sing-Akademie zu Berlin), now the Gorki Theater, where several important musical figures either presented or premiered works.
I took a few hours out of the middle of the day to pack, since I will be leaving relatively early tomorrow morning. Since I had walked so much and taken so many pictures, I also had to download the pictures to free up space on the memory card and charge the battery.
In the evening I went to a Recital Night at the Hochschule für Musik (Music University), where students would be playing selections. When I got there, the program was posted on the door, and it looked interesting. Only when I was seated and had time to review the program more thoroughly did I notice that the first player was in the “2. Kl,” which I figured out means second grade. The last student on the program was in the first year of college.
Nevertheless, I stayed and was not disappointed. The kids played some really demanding music, including Wieniewski, Lalo, and Prokofiev. I'll provide the program to anyone who wants to see it. Even the second grader played completely in tune, with vibrato, position shifts, double stops, and good bow control. At the end I asked the teacher if these kids were studying after school or somehow as a specialty. He confirmed that they do a normal school program up to their graduation, and study and practice in addition to that.
After the concert, I thought I would go to a kneipe (bar/joint) recommended by one of my German teachers. When I got there, it was empty; after all, it was only 9:00. So, instead, I went into an Indian restaurant next door for dinner. With a final stop at Potsdamer platz to try to get some night-time pictures, I made my way back to the hotel.
There was a WWII picture on one of the channels. I joined it in progress; it was about a deportation train and was in German. I tried watching it, but either my mind was too cluttered or I was too tired; I couldn't follow the dialog at all. I eventually turned it off and went to sleep. I don't know the name of the film.
Winding it up
Today, my last day in Berlin, I spent my time doing a final “walk-through.” I made sure that I saw all the locations I had meant to see. I walked my legs off, again. And I assured myself that I knew where things are and how to get there. In particular I walked through the Gendarmenmarkt, Nikolaiviertel, the area around Oranienburger Tor and the shops in that neighborhood, and Alexanderplatz.
There were a few places I didn't see on this visit. The inside of most synagogues are not accessible except for Shabbat services. I didn't particularly want to go to a different synagogue each week, so I saw only two synagogues. The Gemeinde is housed in the so-called New Synagogue on Oranienburgerstr,, where it maintains a museum, which I didn't visit. Only one synagogue, according to the Jüdischen Gemeinde, has visiting hours for tourists, for which they charge an admission fee. In addition, I didn't visit the Sachsenhausen Concentration Camp, which is, ironically, located in Oranienburg, north of the city.
After walking around one of the historic districts, I went back the LOXX miniatures exhibit, so that I could take more photos. Again I'll say the place is amazing. I think I liked it more than most of the other exhibit/museum places I visited.
I walked Unter den Linden again, and I made a point to stop at the Singakadamie (Sing-Akademie zu Berlin), now the Gorki Theater, where several important musical figures either presented or premiered works.
I took a few hours out of the middle of the day to pack, since I will be leaving relatively early tomorrow morning. Since I had walked so much and taken so many pictures, I also had to download the pictures to free up space on the memory card and charge the battery.
In the evening I went to a Recital Night at the Hochschule für Musik (Music University), where students would be playing selections. When I got there, the program was posted on the door, and it looked interesting. Only when I was seated and had time to review the program more thoroughly did I notice that the first player was in the “2. Kl,” which I figured out means second grade. The last student on the program was in the first year of college.
Nevertheless, I stayed and was not disappointed. The kids played some really demanding music, including Wieniewski, Lalo, and Prokofiev. I'll provide the program to anyone who wants to see it. Even the second grader played completely in tune, with vibrato, position shifts, double stops, and good bow control. At the end I asked the teacher if these kids were studying after school or somehow as a specialty. He confirmed that they do a normal school program up to their graduation, and study and practice in addition to that.
After the concert, I thought I would go to a kneipe (bar/joint) recommended by one of my German teachers. When I got there, it was empty; after all, it was only 9:00. So, instead, I went into an Indian restaurant next door for dinner. With a final stop at Potsdamer platz to try to get some night-time pictures, I made my way back to the hotel.
There was a WWII picture on one of the channels. I joined it in progress; it was about a deportation train and was in German. I tried watching it, but either my mind was too cluttered or I was too tired; I couldn't follow the dialog at all. I eventually turned it off and went to sleep. I don't know the name of the film.
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
Past and present antisemitism
Monday, May 11, 2009
Wannsee
On last night's news program, the weather lady said that it would be mostly sunny on Monday and Tuesday and partly cloudy on Wednesday. It rained all day today. I went out this morning without a jacket and not carrying an umbrella. I got a half a kilometer away when I felt my first drop of rain and noticed that it was really too cold to be going without a jacket. I turned around and picked up my backpack with jacket and umbrella.
I used the regional Bahn (instead of the S-Bahn) to get to Wannsee this morning. The area is a picturesque community on the edge of a large lake (“See,” pronounced “zay,” means “lake.”) It has been a leisure destination for Berliners for at least a century.
Max Lieberman, perhaps the most important modern artist in Germany, built a villa on lake shore at the beginning of the 20th century. It was here that he painted and sketched a large proportion of his life's output.
After spending a while at the house, I walked 5 minutes to quite a different site. Just down the same street is the house where the infamous Wannsee Conference took place during the holocaust. The house presents a thorough history of the Nazis' treatment of Jews and highlights the meeting, at which the Endlösung (final solution) was planned, organized, and documented.
The meeting resulted in a huge manual describing the responsibilities of every department of government and how they were to carry them out. The idyllic setting belies the barbarity of the result of the meeting.
Gathering my wits about me, I started back to Berlin.
When I got back to the city, I went to the Apothecary. I had gotten just about to the end of my store of medicines that I take regularly. The pharmacist said that he could get them for me by today. I calculated how much money I would need in Euros; I exchanged just enough; and I went over to buy the medications. It's much less expensive here than in the US.
As it turns out, I exchanged too much money. I had counted the number of dollars I would need, and accidentally exchanged enough money to have that number of Euros.
I can't think of anything that Berlin would have that would do for a souvenir. Could I suggest a plastic Brandenburg Gate? A bag with Berlin written all over it? A chocolate bear? I wasn't going to get anything for anybody; usually, when people bring me a remembrance from a far-off place, it's something that's pretty meaningless.
But I was browsing through a “dollar” store and found the perfect recollection of Berlin. I've mentioned to everyone at one time or another, when eating nuts mixed with raisins that, among the university students I lived with 42 years ago, this mixture is called Studentenfutter (student feed, as in chicken feed or horse feed). There, staring at me from one of the bins were bags of Studentenfutter. I had to buy this as my souvenir from Berlin.
This evening I decided to patronize one of the kosher restaurants, The restaurant has a relatively limited menu as it serves no meat. I ended up having a veggie burger with a nice glass of beer on tap. As I was sitting there nursing the remaining beer, one of the young fellows I see at synagogue walked in, so I invited him to sit with me. We had a nice conversation during which I learned that he is a convert. We talked about being Jewish, about finding a Jewish girl to marry, about keeping kosher, and about his job as an IT professional.
We rushed to minyan and everyone was pleased to see us, since 5 minutes late they still had not gotten a minyan. After quickly davening, I chatted with a couple of the friends that I had made, and we took some pictures. I looked for the shammas and gave him a donation for the synagogue.
I went back to the hotel to update my blog, but I also wanted to see a TV program on antisemitism that had been promoted yesterday during the news. The program was not bad and started by talking about European episodes of antisemitism and the background for them. Most of the rest of the program was abouut current Muslim antisemitism, about how most Muslims are taught and believe the “Protocols of the Elders of Zion,” how the libels are promulgated in theater, films, and on TV, and how perfectly normal, intelligent-looking people justify it.
Wannsee
On last night's news program, the weather lady said that it would be mostly sunny on Monday and Tuesday and partly cloudy on Wednesday. It rained all day today. I went out this morning without a jacket and not carrying an umbrella. I got a half a kilometer away when I felt my first drop of rain and noticed that it was really too cold to be going without a jacket. I turned around and picked up my backpack with jacket and umbrella.
I used the regional Bahn (instead of the S-Bahn) to get to Wannsee this morning. The area is a picturesque community on the edge of a large lake (“See,” pronounced “zay,” means “lake.”) It has been a leisure destination for Berliners for at least a century.
Max Lieberman, perhaps the most important modern artist in Germany, built a villa on lake shore at the beginning of the 20th century. It was here that he painted and sketched a large proportion of his life's output.
After spending a while at the house, I walked 5 minutes to quite a different site. Just down the same street is the house where the infamous Wannsee Conference took place during the holocaust. The house presents a thorough history of the Nazis' treatment of Jews and highlights the meeting, at which the Endlösung (final solution) was planned, organized, and documented.
The meeting resulted in a huge manual describing the responsibilities of every department of government and how they were to carry them out. The idyllic setting belies the barbarity of the result of the meeting.
Gathering my wits about me, I started back to Berlin.
When I got back to the city, I went to the Apothecary. I had gotten just about to the end of my store of medicines that I take regularly. The pharmacist said that he could get them for me by today. I calculated how much money I would need in Euros; I exchanged just enough; and I went over to buy the medications. It's much less expensive here than in the US.
As it turns out, I exchanged too much money. I had counted the number of dollars I would need, and accidentally exchanged enough money to have that number of Euros.
I can't think of anything that Berlin would have that would do for a souvenir. Could I suggest a plastic Brandenburg Gate? A bag with Berlin written all over it? A chocolate bear? I wasn't going to get anything for anybody; usually, when people bring me a remembrance from a far-off place, it's something that's pretty meaningless.
But I was browsing through a “dollar” store and found the perfect recollection of Berlin. I've mentioned to everyone at one time or another, when eating nuts mixed with raisins that, among the university students I lived with 42 years ago, this mixture is called Studentenfutter (student feed, as in chicken feed or horse feed). There, staring at me from one of the bins were bags of Studentenfutter. I had to buy this as my souvenir from Berlin.
This evening I decided to patronize one of the kosher restaurants, The restaurant has a relatively limited menu as it serves no meat. I ended up having a veggie burger with a nice glass of beer on tap. As I was sitting there nursing the remaining beer, one of the young fellows I see at synagogue walked in, so I invited him to sit with me. We had a nice conversation during which I learned that he is a convert. We talked about being Jewish, about finding a Jewish girl to marry, about keeping kosher, and about his job as an IT professional.
We rushed to minyan and everyone was pleased to see us, since 5 minutes late they still had not gotten a minyan. After quickly davening, I chatted with a couple of the friends that I had made, and we took some pictures. I looked for the shammas and gave him a donation for the synagogue.
I went back to the hotel to update my blog, but I also wanted to see a TV program on antisemitism that had been promoted yesterday during the news. The program was not bad and started by talking about European episodes of antisemitism and the background for them. Most of the rest of the program was abouut current Muslim antisemitism, about how most Muslims are taught and believe the “Protocols of the Elders of Zion,” how the libels are promulgated in theater, films, and on TV, and how perfectly normal, intelligent-looking people justify it.
Monday, May 11, 2009
Aristocrats and asparagus
Sunday, May 10, 2009
The summer palace
With my weekly pass, I can use not only the city's public transport, but also the national railway, as long as I stay within the boundaries of the card that I purchased. It takes about 45 minutes to get to Potsdam by S-Bahn, but only 25 by regional train.
I caught the next regional train and experienced a really wonderful ride. Trains run to Potsdam every half hour. On their way to a town farther west. Regional train traffic is busy, with frequent service to just about anywhere you might want to go.
The regional trains are “double decked,” Sitting in the upper deck gives a nice outlook onto the passing countryside. Seats are comfortable, similar to those in commuter jets, but without the ability to recline. The ride is unbelievably quiet.
I had tried to get out early, since I have to be back, at Martin's house, by around 6:00 for dinner. Not entirely successful in that endeavor, I was on the train at 9:17 and in Potsdam by about 9:45.
There were huge crowds at the bus stop at the Potsdam Hauptbahnhof. The first bus that came filled up completely, leaving scores of people on the platform. I asked the driver before he closed the door if any other route goes to the palace, and he directed me to the 965, due in about 7 minutes.
I was surprised at how far it is from the Hauptbahnhof to the city center. Usually the train station – especially in small towns – is at or near the city center. The bus route went through the center and out the other side of town to reach the Sanssouci palace grounds. I found the ticket office, and I bought a day pass to all the palace holdings. I knew I wouldn't see everything, but it would still be more cost-effective to buy this admission.
They give appointments to enter the palace, since the numbers are so large. My admission was scheduled for about 10 minutes later.
I took my audio guide in German again. I guess that I understand 80% of the lecture. I stop the recording occasionally to look up a word that I can't figure out from context. Waiting for my turn I strolled the perimeter. The “front lawn” of the Sanssouci palace is a Weinberg (literally: wine hill/mountain). Freidrich the Great was a wine lover and connoisseur, and he had a wine cellar that held hundreds of bottles of wine from all over, including his own vineyard.
The Germans call a vineyard “Weinberg” because in Germany all vineyards are on the south-facing slopes of hills. It's too cold to grow grapes in Germany if they don't take full advantage of the sun in that fashion.
The floors of most of the palaces I saw today were not covered with carpets to protect them from traffic. Instead, visitors are required to wear felt slippers to avoid damaging the floors. There are floors of wood and of marble. Some of the marble floors have beautiful inlaid designs of multiple-colored marble. Frederick was from Schlesin (Silesia) where marble is produced, and he wanted to show his solidarity with the homeland.
One of the rooms of the new palace was unique in its wall decoration. All the walls and much of the ceiling and many columns were made of inlaid shells of oysters, mussels, and snails. The mother-of-pearl radiance was impressive, and the sheer number of shells and the designs that were made of them was a sight.
Friedrich der Grosse (Frederick the Great) was close with contemporary artists and thinkers. He was a patron of the arts, a musician and composer, and (for a monarch of his time) a relatively liberal thinker. Voltaire spent considerable time at the Sanssouci palace as a guest. In particular the two of them would play word games. Here is an example of a coded message that Freddy sent Voltaire one day:
À sous P à cent sous six
(A under P at 100 under six)
If you said it right, it would have sounded more or less like:
“à souper à Sanssouci”
or, in other words the king was inviting Voltaire:
“To dine at the palace”
In case you don't remember what I said on previous occasions: I think it would be nice if these European palaces would show how the servants lived, what they did, where they hung out waiting for the lords and ladies to ring the bell, how they ate, how they prepared food or made clothes. At least in the US, when you visit a nobleman's palace (like Mt. Vernon) you get to see the slaves' quarters, and there's a docent who tells you about the slaves lives. At Williamsburg or Agrirama, the whole town functions much as it might have 250 or 150 years ago, respectively – albeit without the diphtheria, infant mortality, or potential starvation and on an 8-hour workday.
So Yoyi called me while I was touring the palace today, and while we were on the phone, I noticed a couple take a picture of themselves using the timer on their camera. That was a forehead-slapping moment; I had not remembered to do that for my entire trip. Do I feel dumb? By the way, did I mention how nice it is to get a call from my lovely wife?
It was getting late, so I rushed over to the site of the Potsdam conference of Stalin, Churchill, and Truman in 1945. It was at that conference that the victorious powers created a modern Germany and divided up the responsibility of overseeing it. It was to be united, but with 4-power (add France) oversight. It took only a couple of years before the Soviets made their zone a people's paradise. Then in 1948 they blockaded Berlin for 15 months, and the US mounted a massive airlift effort to bring everything, down to the everyday requirements like heating coal, saving the city from disaster.
This year they will celebrate the 60th anniversary of the end of the airlift. Coincidentally, they are also celebrating the 20th anniversary of the tearing down of the Berlin Wall.
Well, I didn't time my visit as perfectly as I had planned; I had to rush through the little palace where the meeting had taken place. I was unable to get on the return train at 5:00, which would have been just right. Instead, I had to take the train a half hour later, and that's exactly how late I arrived at Martin's. I called Martin from the streetcar to advise him that I was running a little late. Then to add insult, the connecting streetcar pulled away as we were approaching the transfer station. Sascho and Regina were just coming at the time I showed up; with them was the young man we had met in their garden on our previous visit to Berlin. (I have been reminded that it was 4 years ago.)
Sascho and Regina brought a bottle of Bulgarian wine for me to take home; he is Bulgarian, as I may have previously mentioned. Martin made a huge serving bowl of white asparagus. It's asparagus season in Germany, and everyone goes crazy for it. The farmers make dirt berms around the asparagus plants so that they never emerge into the light, and they stay white. If you ever get the chance to have these delicacies (especially here) you will understand why they love this time of year.
At the end of dinner, the three from across the street bid me farewell. Martin and I talked for another half hour or so, and then I said goodbye and left until the next time either they come to the States or I come back to Berlin.
The summer palace
With my weekly pass, I can use not only the city's public transport, but also the national railway, as long as I stay within the boundaries of the card that I purchased. It takes about 45 minutes to get to Potsdam by S-Bahn, but only 25 by regional train.
I caught the next regional train and experienced a really wonderful ride. Trains run to Potsdam every half hour. On their way to a town farther west. Regional train traffic is busy, with frequent service to just about anywhere you might want to go.
The regional trains are “double decked,” Sitting in the upper deck gives a nice outlook onto the passing countryside. Seats are comfortable, similar to those in commuter jets, but without the ability to recline. The ride is unbelievably quiet.
I had tried to get out early, since I have to be back, at Martin's house, by around 6:00 for dinner. Not entirely successful in that endeavor, I was on the train at 9:17 and in Potsdam by about 9:45.
There were huge crowds at the bus stop at the Potsdam Hauptbahnhof. The first bus that came filled up completely, leaving scores of people on the platform. I asked the driver before he closed the door if any other route goes to the palace, and he directed me to the 965, due in about 7 minutes.
I was surprised at how far it is from the Hauptbahnhof to the city center. Usually the train station – especially in small towns – is at or near the city center. The bus route went through the center and out the other side of town to reach the Sanssouci palace grounds. I found the ticket office, and I bought a day pass to all the palace holdings. I knew I wouldn't see everything, but it would still be more cost-effective to buy this admission.
They give appointments to enter the palace, since the numbers are so large. My admission was scheduled for about 10 minutes later.
I took my audio guide in German again. I guess that I understand 80% of the lecture. I stop the recording occasionally to look up a word that I can't figure out from context. Waiting for my turn I strolled the perimeter. The “front lawn” of the Sanssouci palace is a Weinberg (literally: wine hill/mountain). Freidrich the Great was a wine lover and connoisseur, and he had a wine cellar that held hundreds of bottles of wine from all over, including his own vineyard.
The Germans call a vineyard “Weinberg” because in Germany all vineyards are on the south-facing slopes of hills. It's too cold to grow grapes in Germany if they don't take full advantage of the sun in that fashion.
The floors of most of the palaces I saw today were not covered with carpets to protect them from traffic. Instead, visitors are required to wear felt slippers to avoid damaging the floors. There are floors of wood and of marble. Some of the marble floors have beautiful inlaid designs of multiple-colored marble. Frederick was from Schlesin (Silesia) where marble is produced, and he wanted to show his solidarity with the homeland.
One of the rooms of the new palace was unique in its wall decoration. All the walls and much of the ceiling and many columns were made of inlaid shells of oysters, mussels, and snails. The mother-of-pearl radiance was impressive, and the sheer number of shells and the designs that were made of them was a sight.
Friedrich der Grosse (Frederick the Great) was close with contemporary artists and thinkers. He was a patron of the arts, a musician and composer, and (for a monarch of his time) a relatively liberal thinker. Voltaire spent considerable time at the Sanssouci palace as a guest. In particular the two of them would play word games. Here is an example of a coded message that Freddy sent Voltaire one day:
| P |
| 6 |
| -- | à | ----- |
| à |
| 100 |
À sous P à cent sous six
(A under P at 100 under six)
If you said it right, it would have sounded more or less like:
“à souper à Sanssouci”
or, in other words the king was inviting Voltaire:
“To dine at the palace”
In case you don't remember what I said on previous occasions: I think it would be nice if these European palaces would show how the servants lived, what they did, where they hung out waiting for the lords and ladies to ring the bell, how they ate, how they prepared food or made clothes. At least in the US, when you visit a nobleman's palace (like Mt. Vernon) you get to see the slaves' quarters, and there's a docent who tells you about the slaves lives. At Williamsburg or Agrirama, the whole town functions much as it might have 250 or 150 years ago, respectively – albeit without the diphtheria, infant mortality, or potential starvation and on an 8-hour workday.
So Yoyi called me while I was touring the palace today, and while we were on the phone, I noticed a couple take a picture of themselves using the timer on their camera. That was a forehead-slapping moment; I had not remembered to do that for my entire trip. Do I feel dumb? By the way, did I mention how nice it is to get a call from my lovely wife?
It was getting late, so I rushed over to the site of the Potsdam conference of Stalin, Churchill, and Truman in 1945. It was at that conference that the victorious powers created a modern Germany and divided up the responsibility of overseeing it. It was to be united, but with 4-power (add France) oversight. It took only a couple of years before the Soviets made their zone a people's paradise. Then in 1948 they blockaded Berlin for 15 months, and the US mounted a massive airlift effort to bring everything, down to the everyday requirements like heating coal, saving the city from disaster.
This year they will celebrate the 60th anniversary of the end of the airlift. Coincidentally, they are also celebrating the 20th anniversary of the tearing down of the Berlin Wall.
Well, I didn't time my visit as perfectly as I had planned; I had to rush through the little palace where the meeting had taken place. I was unable to get on the return train at 5:00, which would have been just right. Instead, I had to take the train a half hour later, and that's exactly how late I arrived at Martin's. I called Martin from the streetcar to advise him that I was running a little late. Then to add insult, the connecting streetcar pulled away as we were approaching the transfer station. Sascho and Regina were just coming at the time I showed up; with them was the young man we had met in their garden on our previous visit to Berlin. (I have been reminded that it was 4 years ago.)
Sascho and Regina brought a bottle of Bulgarian wine for me to take home; he is Bulgarian, as I may have previously mentioned. Martin made a huge serving bowl of white asparagus. It's asparagus season in Germany, and everyone goes crazy for it. The farmers make dirt berms around the asparagus plants so that they never emerge into the light, and they stay white. If you ever get the chance to have these delicacies (especially here) you will understand why they love this time of year.
At the end of dinner, the three from across the street bid me farewell. Martin and I talked for another half hour or so, and then I said goodbye and left until the next time either they come to the States or I come back to Berlin.
Sunday, May 10, 2009
My third Shabbat here.
Saturday, May 9, 2009
Rest at last
Today I'm not going to do anything demanding, except to catch up on my blog and to plan the remaining days here in Berlin. I have to confront my urge to go and to do. After spending all that money and energy getting here, can I afford to spend an entire day resting and blogging?? Having done so, and having caught up gives me a more comfortable feeling, even though I haven't actually rested.
Services this morning as usual. People now greet me practically as a regular. A fellow in the row behind me asked me if I know anything about the Berlin Jewish film festival that is supposed to be starting about now. I suggested that he look on the internet, as that is where I found out about it. In the course of conversation, mainly between aliyot, I learned that he is from Paris, and that he knows David Blumenthal. In fact, they spend many summers together in Switzerland. Small world.
While composing my blog in the breakfast area of the hotel, I chatted with the man who was watching the desk this afternoon. I asked him about the palace at Potsdam; he recommended that I also be sure to see the locale where the Potsdam Agreement (or Treaty) was signed after the War by Stalin, Churchill, and Truman. My father spoke about this on occasion.
The man said that it was a great loss to the world of art when the British bombed the city of Potsdam only 3 weeks before the surrender. The war was effectively won, and Potsdam had no strategic value. In addition some 4000 were killed in the bombing. One more sad story in a litany.
In the meantime he was leafing through a stack of papers and confirmed what he had told me in a small booklet. “Here is a booklet I wrote for visitors to Berlin; take this one in English.” “You wrote this?” I asked. He and his English-speaking wife wrote the booklet in German and English for tours that he gives. Apparently he has sold hundreds of thousands of these booklets. Reading through it, I'd say it's quite good. “it's my gift to you,” he said. If I think of it, maybe I'll have him autograph it.
So I have planned out my next three days, and determined when I must get on the airport bus on Wednesday. I'm planning Potsdam for Sunday, even though there is likely to be a bunch of tourists, but the palace is closed on Monday.
About the time I finished writing blogs, I got a call from Martin suggesting that we get together with Sascho and Regina on Sunday for lunch. I had already planned my schedule, and several things would not work out due to closing days if I changed the plan. I asked if we could meet instead for dinner at night. Martin is always very accommodating, and we will meet Sunday at 6:00; he'll call me if that doesn't work out with Sascho.
Tonight it's back to shul and seudat shlishi. They have a lively seudat. Everyone sings loudly and bangs on the table. It's an uplifting experience. There were several young (30 – 45) people there, including my acquaintance, David, from last night.
After havdalah, I suggested to a few people that we go drink beer together. Altogether 5 of us went to a nice location not far from the shul and not far from my pension -- a very nice garden cafe where we each drank 2 beers and I insisted on paying. Beer has a bifurcated effect on my language skills: I speak much more fluently and easily, but I forget words more readily. On balance, though, I think I do better with a beer or two.
Tonight's society was exactly the kind of experience that I had hoped to engender since I got here. Unfortunately, it takes about 2 ½ weeks to establish the relationships that allow such a get-together.
It's 1:00 AM, and tomorrow I hope to get on the train at about 8:30 or 9:00 to go to Potsdam. Good night.
Rest at last
Today I'm not going to do anything demanding, except to catch up on my blog and to plan the remaining days here in Berlin. I have to confront my urge to go and to do. After spending all that money and energy getting here, can I afford to spend an entire day resting and blogging?? Having done so, and having caught up gives me a more comfortable feeling, even though I haven't actually rested.
Services this morning as usual. People now greet me practically as a regular. A fellow in the row behind me asked me if I know anything about the Berlin Jewish film festival that is supposed to be starting about now. I suggested that he look on the internet, as that is where I found out about it. In the course of conversation, mainly between aliyot, I learned that he is from Paris, and that he knows David Blumenthal. In fact, they spend many summers together in Switzerland. Small world.
While composing my blog in the breakfast area of the hotel, I chatted with the man who was watching the desk this afternoon. I asked him about the palace at Potsdam; he recommended that I also be sure to see the locale where the Potsdam Agreement (or Treaty) was signed after the War by Stalin, Churchill, and Truman. My father spoke about this on occasion.
The man said that it was a great loss to the world of art when the British bombed the city of Potsdam only 3 weeks before the surrender. The war was effectively won, and Potsdam had no strategic value. In addition some 4000 were killed in the bombing. One more sad story in a litany.
In the meantime he was leafing through a stack of papers and confirmed what he had told me in a small booklet. “Here is a booklet I wrote for visitors to Berlin; take this one in English.” “You wrote this?” I asked. He and his English-speaking wife wrote the booklet in German and English for tours that he gives. Apparently he has sold hundreds of thousands of these booklets. Reading through it, I'd say it's quite good. “it's my gift to you,” he said. If I think of it, maybe I'll have him autograph it.
So I have planned out my next three days, and determined when I must get on the airport bus on Wednesday. I'm planning Potsdam for Sunday, even though there is likely to be a bunch of tourists, but the palace is closed on Monday.
About the time I finished writing blogs, I got a call from Martin suggesting that we get together with Sascho and Regina on Sunday for lunch. I had already planned my schedule, and several things would not work out due to closing days if I changed the plan. I asked if we could meet instead for dinner at night. Martin is always very accommodating, and we will meet Sunday at 6:00; he'll call me if that doesn't work out with Sascho.
Tonight it's back to shul and seudat shlishi. They have a lively seudat. Everyone sings loudly and bangs on the table. It's an uplifting experience. There were several young (30 – 45) people there, including my acquaintance, David, from last night.
After havdalah, I suggested to a few people that we go drink beer together. Altogether 5 of us went to a nice location not far from the shul and not far from my pension -- a very nice garden cafe where we each drank 2 beers and I insisted on paying. Beer has a bifurcated effect on my language skills: I speak much more fluently and easily, but I forget words more readily. On balance, though, I think I do better with a beer or two.
Tonight's society was exactly the kind of experience that I had hoped to engender since I got here. Unfortunately, it takes about 2 ½ weeks to establish the relationships that allow such a get-together.
It's 1:00 AM, and tomorrow I hope to get on the train at about 8:30 or 9:00 to go to Potsdam. Good night.
Saturday, May 9, 2009
Gravity
Friday, May 8, 2009
Cemeteries
This morning the elderly lady who helps to run the hotel told me that she is on night duty tonight and tomorrow night. I should stop by to chat when I get back either tonight or tomorrow.
Today I will visit the Jewish center to gather just a little more information about the community. I was told by the receptionist that I should talk with Herr Fried in the Library. I stepped into the library a few minutes before it was to open, not noticing the hour, surprising the people there that anyone would consider coming in before the precise opening hour. Turns out that Herr Fried is from Latvia, having come to Berlin 20 or so years ago.
Herr Fried was happy to talk to me about the cemeteries in town and about the community. I complained to him that the synagogues don't have open times or tours. If you want to see the inside of a synagogue, you must attend services. But what if you don't want to attend a reform service? Only one synagogue has tours. I mentioned that the Vienna main synagogue has scheduled tours.
We started comparing the Jewish communities in US cities, in Vienna, and in Berlin. He mentioned that many US visitors ask, “Where is the athletic facility?” or “Where is the computer center?” He regrets that there aren't more Jewish facilities. Berlin has a fairly large Jewish community, about 11,000, but he said Vienna is more deeply Jewish than Berlin.
I left to visit two of the city's important cemeteries. First I went to the cemetery on Schönhauser Allee in Prenzlauer Berg. The cemetery is essentially closed to further burials, as it is pretty full. The cemetery suffered considerable bomb damage in the War. Here I ran into some Americans searching for the grave of a distant family member. Nobody had a map of the cemetery, including the overseer. The graves were all marked with a number, but it appears to indicate the order in which the gravesite was used, not the location. Thus, 11204 might be right next to 10667.
In this graveyard were the remains of several famous Berliners, including Moses Mendelssohn's son and the son's family, Max Lieberman, the artist and collector, and Giacomo Meyerbeer.
I then went to the Weissensee cemetery. It is, purportedly, the largest Jewish cemetery in Europe. Since it is in what was once East Berlin, the Jewish community in West Berlin did not have access to it for most of the time from 1945 – 1989, forcing them to create a new cemetery in the West. This is a beautifully laid out landscape where Jews are buried even now. In this cemetery are many influential Berliners, including Lesser Ury, the painter. There are also memorials to several famous Jews, including Herbert Baum, the resistance fighter who was killed by the Nazis and Leo Baeck, the Rabbi.
A nap before going to services tonight was very helpful.
I went to Chabad again tonight for kabbalat Shabbat services. You always run into tourists at Chabad. I talked for a while with an Israeli couple. He is a Motorola employee who was sent to Berlin for 3 weeks on business. She is an Israeli who lived in Seattle for 10 years before moving back with her family – accompanying him. At dinner I met a local (German) young fellow, David, studying IE, not Jewish, and planning to convert. I had a good conversation with him about converting and about engineering. As we both had to walk in the same direction, we talked on the way home about his hope of starting an independent business.
He'll be coming to Seudat Shlishi at the Joachimstalerstr. Synagogue tomorrow; thus, I should see him there.
After I got back to my room, I spent some time catching up on my blog entries. I was 4 or 5 days behind.
Cemeteries
This morning the elderly lady who helps to run the hotel told me that she is on night duty tonight and tomorrow night. I should stop by to chat when I get back either tonight or tomorrow.
Today I will visit the Jewish center to gather just a little more information about the community. I was told by the receptionist that I should talk with Herr Fried in the Library. I stepped into the library a few minutes before it was to open, not noticing the hour, surprising the people there that anyone would consider coming in before the precise opening hour. Turns out that Herr Fried is from Latvia, having come to Berlin 20 or so years ago.
Herr Fried was happy to talk to me about the cemeteries in town and about the community. I complained to him that the synagogues don't have open times or tours. If you want to see the inside of a synagogue, you must attend services. But what if you don't want to attend a reform service? Only one synagogue has tours. I mentioned that the Vienna main synagogue has scheduled tours.
We started comparing the Jewish communities in US cities, in Vienna, and in Berlin. He mentioned that many US visitors ask, “Where is the athletic facility?” or “Where is the computer center?” He regrets that there aren't more Jewish facilities. Berlin has a fairly large Jewish community, about 11,000, but he said Vienna is more deeply Jewish than Berlin.
I left to visit two of the city's important cemeteries. First I went to the cemetery on Schönhauser Allee in Prenzlauer Berg. The cemetery is essentially closed to further burials, as it is pretty full. The cemetery suffered considerable bomb damage in the War. Here I ran into some Americans searching for the grave of a distant family member. Nobody had a map of the cemetery, including the overseer. The graves were all marked with a number, but it appears to indicate the order in which the gravesite was used, not the location. Thus, 11204 might be right next to 10667.
In this graveyard were the remains of several famous Berliners, including Moses Mendelssohn's son and the son's family, Max Lieberman, the artist and collector, and Giacomo Meyerbeer.
I then went to the Weissensee cemetery. It is, purportedly, the largest Jewish cemetery in Europe. Since it is in what was once East Berlin, the Jewish community in West Berlin did not have access to it for most of the time from 1945 – 1989, forcing them to create a new cemetery in the West. This is a beautifully laid out landscape where Jews are buried even now. In this cemetery are many influential Berliners, including Lesser Ury, the painter. There are also memorials to several famous Jews, including Herbert Baum, the resistance fighter who was killed by the Nazis and Leo Baeck, the Rabbi.
A nap before going to services tonight was very helpful.
I went to Chabad again tonight for kabbalat Shabbat services. You always run into tourists at Chabad. I talked for a while with an Israeli couple. He is a Motorola employee who was sent to Berlin for 3 weeks on business. She is an Israeli who lived in Seattle for 10 years before moving back with her family – accompanying him. At dinner I met a local (German) young fellow, David, studying IE, not Jewish, and planning to convert. I had a good conversation with him about converting and about engineering. As we both had to walk in the same direction, we talked on the way home about his hope of starting an independent business.
He'll be coming to Seudat Shlishi at the Joachimstalerstr. Synagogue tomorrow; thus, I should see him there.
After I got back to my room, I spent some time catching up on my blog entries. I was 4 or 5 days behind.
Just keep moving....
Thursday, May 7, 2009
Marathon museum day
I bought myself a 7-day transit pass for 16.50. Normal fare is 2.10 per ride, where the ticket is good for up to 2 hours, as long as you continue in the same general direction. I calculated that 2.35 per day is a good deal. I would validate it today, and I wouldn't have to buy another ticket before I leave next Wednesday.
Today I'll use my pass to the Jüdisches Museum (Jewish Museum) in the morning and take advantage of free admission at the Staatliche Museums in the afternoon. The museums that close at 6:00 are free from 2:00, and the museums that close at 10:00 are free from 6:00. I have some serious walking to do today.
I took about 2 – 3 hours more at the Jewish Museum to finish my visit. I still had to skim a few sections for want of time. There were numerous school groups visiting, from what appeared to be about 5th grade through high school. In addition, many adults were in guided tours. Very few of the visitors appeared to be Jewish.
In the museum I saw a few items that I found amusing. For example, Veitel Heine Ephraim, whose house is now a museum (see previous post) tried to use his access to the Prussian king to request a law forbidding Jewish men to shave. The king turned him down. Another item was a reprint from a Jewish newspaper of the time showing the evolution, citing Darwin, of a Chanukah menora into a Christmas tree.
I grabbed a quick lunch near the museum so that I could get out to Charlottenburg by 2:00 when the Museum Berggruen would be free.
Heinz Berggruen was a Jewish art dealer and close friend of Pablo Picasso. He left his considerable art collection to the government of Berlin just a few years ago. The museum contains over a hundred works by Picasso, plus scores by Klee, Matisse, and Giacometti. Some of the Picasso works are signed “to my friend Berggruen” -- occasionally misspelled.
Across the street from the Berggruen is the Collection Scharf-Gerstenberg, exhibiting works by the Surrealists and their forerunners. The spectrum of artists ranges from Goya and Redon to Dalí, Max Ernst, and Dubuffet. In addition, completely out of place, there is a 2500-year-old gate, given to the German government by Egypt in appreciation for assistance in saving artifacts from the flooding due to the building of the Aswan high dam.
By now it was time to get moving in the direction of Museum Insel (Museum Island) in the Stadtmitte, where the most significant museums are located. Bela and I spent a few hours here last time seeing the Ishtar Gate and the Pergamon altar in the world-famous Pergamon Museum. I could skip it this time.
First, on the way, I went to the Musical Instruments Museum, right next to the Berlin Philharmonic Hall. I took a guided tour, because the docent plays various ancient instruments for the guests. I saw some instruments I had never seen before, and I got to hear some instruments that had been owned by famous people. The culmination of the tour was to hear a Wurlitzer Cinema Organ, one of the largest in the world, including various sound effects. Very amusing.
On Museum Island I went first to the Altes Museum. This collection of ancient pottery and sculpture we had seen 4 years ago, as well. But now, one of the best-known pieces of art in the world, previously undergoing stabilization and restoration, was on display, namely the head of Nefertiti. It was inside a glass case, climate controlled and vibration isolated. When I had last seen this piece, it was 42 years ago in this very museum, when it was still in East Berlin. The bust stood out in the open with essentially no protection at that time, and, if I remember correctly, I was the only one in the museum.
Then I went around the corner to the Alte Nationalgalerie, which houses primarily 19th Century art, both sculpture and paintings. I was able to stroll through this museum, as I wanted only to get a feeling for the period. I did take some time where the paintings had some historical significance.
It was getting dark outside at 9:15 when I went down the street past the Pergamon to the bridge and the entrance to the Bode Museum. This building has gothic and renaissance art, primarily, emphasizing Italian. I was impressed by the number of della Robbia sculptures there were in the collection.
Not to be the last one out, I exited the museum at about 10 minutes before 10:00. The museum is just steps from a very popular neighborhood for night clubs, bars, and socializing. Right across the river is the bar “Am Strand” (at the Beach), complete with large live palm trees, where salsa was playing continuously and numerous couples were dancing, some quite well.
To see more (official) information about the Staatliche Museen, look at their English-language website.
If I had been there with someone, would I have gone in, ordered a beer, and danced? ......... Oh, well; probably not. I could barely stand up.
Marathon museum day
I bought myself a 7-day transit pass for 16.50. Normal fare is 2.10 per ride, where the ticket is good for up to 2 hours, as long as you continue in the same general direction. I calculated that 2.35 per day is a good deal. I would validate it today, and I wouldn't have to buy another ticket before I leave next Wednesday.
Today I'll use my pass to the Jüdisches Museum (Jewish Museum) in the morning and take advantage of free admission at the Staatliche Museums in the afternoon. The museums that close at 6:00 are free from 2:00, and the museums that close at 10:00 are free from 6:00. I have some serious walking to do today.
I took about 2 – 3 hours more at the Jewish Museum to finish my visit. I still had to skim a few sections for want of time. There were numerous school groups visiting, from what appeared to be about 5th grade through high school. In addition, many adults were in guided tours. Very few of the visitors appeared to be Jewish.
In the museum I saw a few items that I found amusing. For example, Veitel Heine Ephraim, whose house is now a museum (see previous post) tried to use his access to the Prussian king to request a law forbidding Jewish men to shave. The king turned him down. Another item was a reprint from a Jewish newspaper of the time showing the evolution, citing Darwin, of a Chanukah menora into a Christmas tree.
I grabbed a quick lunch near the museum so that I could get out to Charlottenburg by 2:00 when the Museum Berggruen would be free.
Heinz Berggruen was a Jewish art dealer and close friend of Pablo Picasso. He left his considerable art collection to the government of Berlin just a few years ago. The museum contains over a hundred works by Picasso, plus scores by Klee, Matisse, and Giacometti. Some of the Picasso works are signed “to my friend Berggruen” -- occasionally misspelled.
Across the street from the Berggruen is the Collection Scharf-Gerstenberg, exhibiting works by the Surrealists and their forerunners. The spectrum of artists ranges from Goya and Redon to Dalí, Max Ernst, and Dubuffet. In addition, completely out of place, there is a 2500-year-old gate, given to the German government by Egypt in appreciation for assistance in saving artifacts from the flooding due to the building of the Aswan high dam.
By now it was time to get moving in the direction of Museum Insel (Museum Island) in the Stadtmitte, where the most significant museums are located. Bela and I spent a few hours here last time seeing the Ishtar Gate and the Pergamon altar in the world-famous Pergamon Museum. I could skip it this time.
First, on the way, I went to the Musical Instruments Museum, right next to the Berlin Philharmonic Hall. I took a guided tour, because the docent plays various ancient instruments for the guests. I saw some instruments I had never seen before, and I got to hear some instruments that had been owned by famous people. The culmination of the tour was to hear a Wurlitzer Cinema Organ, one of the largest in the world, including various sound effects. Very amusing.
On Museum Island I went first to the Altes Museum. This collection of ancient pottery and sculpture we had seen 4 years ago, as well. But now, one of the best-known pieces of art in the world, previously undergoing stabilization and restoration, was on display, namely the head of Nefertiti. It was inside a glass case, climate controlled and vibration isolated. When I had last seen this piece, it was 42 years ago in this very museum, when it was still in East Berlin. The bust stood out in the open with essentially no protection at that time, and, if I remember correctly, I was the only one in the museum.
Then I went around the corner to the Alte Nationalgalerie, which houses primarily 19th Century art, both sculpture and paintings. I was able to stroll through this museum, as I wanted only to get a feeling for the period. I did take some time where the paintings had some historical significance.
It was getting dark outside at 9:15 when I went down the street past the Pergamon to the bridge and the entrance to the Bode Museum. This building has gothic and renaissance art, primarily, emphasizing Italian. I was impressed by the number of della Robbia sculptures there were in the collection.
Not to be the last one out, I exited the museum at about 10 minutes before 10:00. The museum is just steps from a very popular neighborhood for night clubs, bars, and socializing. Right across the river is the bar “Am Strand” (at the Beach), complete with large live palm trees, where salsa was playing continuously and numerous couples were dancing, some quite well.
To see more (official) information about the Staatliche Museen, look at their English-language website.
If I had been there with someone, would I have gone in, ordered a beer, and danced? ......... Oh, well; probably not. I could barely stand up.
Down to the wire
Wednesday, May 6, 2009
Rush to more museums
Today is the third and last day my Welcome Card is valid, and only until 4:25 – 48 hours after I first validated it. And it's raining again.
I wanted to go to Schloß Charlottenburg (Palace) and two museums right across the street. I got to the palace at 10:00 when it opened. My Card was good only for one of the wings; so how do I decide what admission to buy? Admission for the entire Palace and grounds is 14 Euros. Admission (reduced for the Card) to the “New Wing” is 4.50 Euro. Admission to the Old part of the palace is 10 Euros. So, it's obvious that I should buy the comprehensive admission. I'm already here, so I'll visit the palace without using the card.
Freidrich der Große (Frederick the Great), king of Prussia doesn't live in such a great neighborhood, especially compared to where I live. It's today sort of a middle class area, but nothing special. Of course, back then, it was out in the country. The palace was built as a summer house – so that the family could escape the summer heat in the city.
The kings of Prussia and emperors of Germany were, actually, not so great when held up against some of the other royal families of the time, like those of England, France, Austria, and even Russia. The royal family of Prussia barely spoke German; they were so enamored of French civilization that they spoke French in the court, and even at home.
But those rich guys really knew how to build a palace. They made use of gold leaf, sculpture, fresco, and the like, and my jaw dropped at the spectacle. The palace was nearly completely destroyed by bombs during the War, but it has been meticulously restored, using existing drawings, paintings, and other sources. It has been only a few years that the restoration is complete enough to allow visits to the entire palace.
The palace, like others I have seen has gorgeous inlay floors, carved wood window frames, marble accents, exotic wallpaper, as well as tapestry hangings, and – for want of another phrase – so forth. I counted no fewer than 5 “correspondence rooms” in the palace and its major wing. The Kaiser would come to this room to compose his letters; or to that room; or.... And then there were the rooms that were ante-rooms for other rooms. I wish they showed the servants' quarters and the rooms they stayed in when waiting for the lord or lady to call on them.
I was upset that no photography was permitted. I sneaked a few pictures of one unbelievable room lined with porcelains. It was not easy, as there are guards everywhere to make sure that things are done in an orderly fashion. I haven't yet seen if the pictures are any good. The room is remarkable not only for the number of pieces of porcelain, but also because of the ceiling painting and decoration. The ceiling is painted with a scene that spills over in such a way that, for example, the legs of one of the figures at the edge of the ceiling actually stick out of the ceiling at the wall. A deer, lying shot at the edge of the ceiling, sticks out in part over the edge of the room. Really strange.
Out at the edge of the French-style formal gardens, overlooking the river is the Belvedere. The kings used this as a tea house. It's a long walk from the back door; I wonder if they called a taxi. In the Belvedere is an exhibition of china. Among the china was a seder plate from the 18th century.
When I finished with the palace, I popped into a cafe for a cheese sandwich for lunch, and shortly was on my way the next museum.
The museum directly across the street, Museum Berggruen, covers early 20th century art. The collection is called “Picasso and His Time.” The reduced admission was to be 5 Euros. It was there that I was reminded of the 3-day pass to 50 Berlin museums for 19.50 Euros. I calculated that this would be more cost effective. In addition, tomorrow, Thursday, the museums are all free in the afternoon.
It was then that I determined that the welcome card was not worth it.
I quickly looked in the book that came with the card to find a place that a) I wanted to see and B) is not one of the museums free on Thursdays and is not on the 3-day pass. I found the Loxx (no idea what it stands for) – world in miniature, boasting one of the largest functioning model train exhibits in the world.
I went there and got in just a few minutes before my card expired. This place was more fun than any of the museums. The train layout is, indeed, unbelievably large – and they are making it larger. They have an entire team of people, some volunteer kids, and some employees doing nothing but making model things: people, buildings, vehicles, etc. There is a bank of monitors and computers running all the moving stock with one or two people controlling things. I have never seen anything like it, and I would never have imagined the complexity.
The place cycles through day and night. Lights go on at night; traffic changes. They have clouds hanging above the layout (cotton clumps), and there are occasionally lightning and thunder. Scores of trains, S-Bahns, and streetcars are running. Off to the side, airplains land on a runway (but that's not officially part of the train layout). Vehicles are moving about the streets. Amazing is too inadequate a word to describe it. In the details you see clever placement of the people and things: a man is painting a wall; a Halloween party is going on in a cemetery; there's an accident with police cars – lights flashing – holding up traffic; people dance in a conga line at a party; people try to push a stalled car out of the road; an accident spills the contents of a dump truck into a convertible. All this is set among famous Berlin landmarks.
I soon filled up my camera's memory card with videos, so I asked the person in charge if I could come back (free of charge of course) because my camera was no longer working. He gave me an admissions pass. I'm going back with a completely empty memory card.
The Loxx is located in a beautiful shopping center right on the Alexanderplatz S-Bahnhof. The food court of the place was teeming with people. I stopped to get dinner: a very tasty falafel.
Afterwards, I decided to go to minyan for mincha and maariv. By the time that was over, I was used up. As I have previously said, it's hard work visiting museums.
Rush to more museums
Today is the third and last day my Welcome Card is valid, and only until 4:25 – 48 hours after I first validated it. And it's raining again.
I wanted to go to Schloß Charlottenburg (Palace) and two museums right across the street. I got to the palace at 10:00 when it opened. My Card was good only for one of the wings; so how do I decide what admission to buy? Admission for the entire Palace and grounds is 14 Euros. Admission (reduced for the Card) to the “New Wing” is 4.50 Euro. Admission to the Old part of the palace is 10 Euros. So, it's obvious that I should buy the comprehensive admission. I'm already here, so I'll visit the palace without using the card.
Freidrich der Große (Frederick the Great), king of Prussia doesn't live in such a great neighborhood, especially compared to where I live. It's today sort of a middle class area, but nothing special. Of course, back then, it was out in the country. The palace was built as a summer house – so that the family could escape the summer heat in the city.
The kings of Prussia and emperors of Germany were, actually, not so great when held up against some of the other royal families of the time, like those of England, France, Austria, and even Russia. The royal family of Prussia barely spoke German; they were so enamored of French civilization that they spoke French in the court, and even at home.
But those rich guys really knew how to build a palace. They made use of gold leaf, sculpture, fresco, and the like, and my jaw dropped at the spectacle. The palace was nearly completely destroyed by bombs during the War, but it has been meticulously restored, using existing drawings, paintings, and other sources. It has been only a few years that the restoration is complete enough to allow visits to the entire palace.
The palace, like others I have seen has gorgeous inlay floors, carved wood window frames, marble accents, exotic wallpaper, as well as tapestry hangings, and – for want of another phrase – so forth. I counted no fewer than 5 “correspondence rooms” in the palace and its major wing. The Kaiser would come to this room to compose his letters; or to that room; or.... And then there were the rooms that were ante-rooms for other rooms. I wish they showed the servants' quarters and the rooms they stayed in when waiting for the lord or lady to call on them.
I was upset that no photography was permitted. I sneaked a few pictures of one unbelievable room lined with porcelains. It was not easy, as there are guards everywhere to make sure that things are done in an orderly fashion. I haven't yet seen if the pictures are any good. The room is remarkable not only for the number of pieces of porcelain, but also because of the ceiling painting and decoration. The ceiling is painted with a scene that spills over in such a way that, for example, the legs of one of the figures at the edge of the ceiling actually stick out of the ceiling at the wall. A deer, lying shot at the edge of the ceiling, sticks out in part over the edge of the room. Really strange.
Out at the edge of the French-style formal gardens, overlooking the river is the Belvedere. The kings used this as a tea house. It's a long walk from the back door; I wonder if they called a taxi. In the Belvedere is an exhibition of china. Among the china was a seder plate from the 18th century.
When I finished with the palace, I popped into a cafe for a cheese sandwich for lunch, and shortly was on my way the next museum.
The museum directly across the street, Museum Berggruen, covers early 20th century art. The collection is called “Picasso and His Time.” The reduced admission was to be 5 Euros. It was there that I was reminded of the 3-day pass to 50 Berlin museums for 19.50 Euros. I calculated that this would be more cost effective. In addition, tomorrow, Thursday, the museums are all free in the afternoon.
It was then that I determined that the welcome card was not worth it.
I quickly looked in the book that came with the card to find a place that a) I wanted to see and B) is not one of the museums free on Thursdays and is not on the 3-day pass. I found the Loxx (no idea what it stands for) – world in miniature, boasting one of the largest functioning model train exhibits in the world.
I went there and got in just a few minutes before my card expired. This place was more fun than any of the museums. The train layout is, indeed, unbelievably large – and they are making it larger. They have an entire team of people, some volunteer kids, and some employees doing nothing but making model things: people, buildings, vehicles, etc. There is a bank of monitors and computers running all the moving stock with one or two people controlling things. I have never seen anything like it, and I would never have imagined the complexity.
The place cycles through day and night. Lights go on at night; traffic changes. They have clouds hanging above the layout (cotton clumps), and there are occasionally lightning and thunder. Scores of trains, S-Bahns, and streetcars are running. Off to the side, airplains land on a runway (but that's not officially part of the train layout). Vehicles are moving about the streets. Amazing is too inadequate a word to describe it. In the details you see clever placement of the people and things: a man is painting a wall; a Halloween party is going on in a cemetery; there's an accident with police cars – lights flashing – holding up traffic; people dance in a conga line at a party; people try to push a stalled car out of the road; an accident spills the contents of a dump truck into a convertible. All this is set among famous Berlin landmarks.
I soon filled up my camera's memory card with videos, so I asked the person in charge if I could come back (free of charge of course) because my camera was no longer working. He gave me an admissions pass. I'm going back with a completely empty memory card.
The Loxx is located in a beautiful shopping center right on the Alexanderplatz S-Bahnhof. The food court of the place was teeming with people. I stopped to get dinner: a very tasty falafel.
Afterwards, I decided to go to minyan for mincha and maariv. By the time that was over, I was used up. As I have previously said, it's hard work visiting museums.
Getting around
Tuesday, May 5, 2009
See the town
Today it's raining. I planned to take a boat trip around the city this morning; I figure that the rain is good news and bad news. In fact, when I got to the pier, there were only a half dozen people waiting for the tour. (The employees were discussing whether they should do the tour with so few people or not; they decided to proceed, to my relief.) That's the good news. The bad news is that to sit on the open deck is a little uncomfortable.
The tour was in German, and I understood most of it. There was nothing spectacular about the tour, but it was a point of view that I would not have gotten otherwise. Of course, the tour was one of the discounts from the Welcome Card.
One of the things we passed on the boat was a market in one of the Turkish neighborhoods. The tour leader advised me that it's a very good market, open on Tuesdays and Fridays. I'll try to come back on Friday. Just a few meters farther on the other side of the canal was the Fraenkelufer Synagogue.
While I was on the boat I received a tech support call from Yoyi. The car alarm had sounded for no apparent reason. I walked her through disconnecting the battery. When we call our computer company, we end up talking to someone in India or the Philippines. But who ever heard of calling Germany for support?
After the boat ride, I went to the Nikolaiviertel to visit the Ephraim Palais museum. I thought the exhibits were something else, but instead, I saw something on the contributions of Polish immigrants to Berlin, particularly in the 18th and 19th Centuries. I found out only later, in the Jewish Museum, that Ephraim was a prominent Jewish banker and businessman in Berlin 250 years ago, who, among other things, financed Friedrich II's wars and minted his money.
Then, to make best use of my card, I went to the Dali exhibition at Potsdamer Platz. The exhibit includes a sizable collection of Dali material, but not nearly as large or as complete as the museum in Sarasota. One nice feature was that it includes numerous full sets of work, such as all the illustrations for a particular book, or an entire series. I'm not sure I'll ever understand Dali.
It's hard work going to museums.
See the town
Today it's raining. I planned to take a boat trip around the city this morning; I figure that the rain is good news and bad news. In fact, when I got to the pier, there were only a half dozen people waiting for the tour. (The employees were discussing whether they should do the tour with so few people or not; they decided to proceed, to my relief.) That's the good news. The bad news is that to sit on the open deck is a little uncomfortable.
The tour was in German, and I understood most of it. There was nothing spectacular about the tour, but it was a point of view that I would not have gotten otherwise. Of course, the tour was one of the discounts from the Welcome Card.
One of the things we passed on the boat was a market in one of the Turkish neighborhoods. The tour leader advised me that it's a very good market, open on Tuesdays and Fridays. I'll try to come back on Friday. Just a few meters farther on the other side of the canal was the Fraenkelufer Synagogue.
While I was on the boat I received a tech support call from Yoyi. The car alarm had sounded for no apparent reason. I walked her through disconnecting the battery. When we call our computer company, we end up talking to someone in India or the Philippines. But who ever heard of calling Germany for support?
After the boat ride, I went to the Nikolaiviertel to visit the Ephraim Palais museum. I thought the exhibits were something else, but instead, I saw something on the contributions of Polish immigrants to Berlin, particularly in the 18th and 19th Centuries. I found out only later, in the Jewish Museum, that Ephraim was a prominent Jewish banker and businessman in Berlin 250 years ago, who, among other things, financed Friedrich II's wars and minted his money.
Then, to make best use of my card, I went to the Dali exhibition at Potsdamer Platz. The exhibit includes a sizable collection of Dali material, but not nearly as large or as complete as the museum in Sarasota. One nice feature was that it includes numerous full sets of work, such as all the illustrations for a particular book, or an entire series. I'm not sure I'll ever understand Dali.
It's hard work going to museums.
Wednesday, May 6, 2009
Speed Culture Begins
Monday, May 4, 2009
Last day of language course
Today is my last day of class at the language school. On balance the course was a positive experience. It would have been better as a course designed to be one week long, rather than to drop me into the middle of an on-going class. But there wasn't much choice.
After the class, I started to use the Berlin Welcome Card. I had scheduled two places that are very close to each other. Furthermore, on the map, I saw a Flower Market; maybe I'd walk through it on my way. When I got to the location of the flower market, there was nothing there but a closed up building; maybe it's open only on certain days; maybe it's an old map.
My first cultural stop was the Berlinerishe Gallerie. This museum features modern artists and architects that are or were active in Berlin. The permanent exhibit was not impressive to me, but I'm still trying to appreciate modern art. The special exhibit showed work by the artist and author named Erwin Blumenfeld. He worked in 20s through the 50s, having left Germany for the States during the early Hitler years. His artistic series “Hitlerfresse” was, according to the exhibit, dropped by the millions by US airplanes over Germany.
Then I walked around the corner to the Jewish Museum. I arrived at 6:00, planning to stay until it closed at 10:00. I couldn't see even half before I was chased out after 4 hours. This would have been the archtypical museum nightmare for my kids when they were younger (or even now?)
The museum is dedicated to Jewish life in the Germanic world. It covers the high points and the low points. For those who recall this personality: In the section on the Crusades, it mentions Geoffrey of Bouillon. I learned that on some occasions the Jews fought off the crusaders, sometimes successfully. There was also a temporary exhibit, “Deadly Medicine,” jointly developed by this museum and the Holocaust Museum in Washington, DC.
The museum's permanent exhibit starts at the top of a huge staircase, three floors high (or you could take the elevator). As you move through the display, I noted only as I exited, you have been descending imperceptibly so that you exit at a lower level.
As we were being urged out of the museum at 10:00, I overheard a museum person offer a visitor free admission tomorrow since he couldn't finish today. I asked if I could also take advantage of the offer, but for Thursday (since I will be busy with my Welcome Card schedule through Wednesday). She extended my admission to an extra day on Thursday. “We are always happy when our visitors take such an interest,” she said.
Leaving the museum I came upon three Spanish tourists taking a picture in front of the museum. I decided to ask them in Spanish if they would like me to take a picture of all of them. It took me a long moment to shift gears into Spanish to be able to ask them.
By this time I was beat. I practically fell asleep on the U-bahn trip back to the hotel.
Last day of language course
Today is my last day of class at the language school. On balance the course was a positive experience. It would have been better as a course designed to be one week long, rather than to drop me into the middle of an on-going class. But there wasn't much choice.
After the class, I started to use the Berlin Welcome Card. I had scheduled two places that are very close to each other. Furthermore, on the map, I saw a Flower Market; maybe I'd walk through it on my way. When I got to the location of the flower market, there was nothing there but a closed up building; maybe it's open only on certain days; maybe it's an old map.
My first cultural stop was the Berlinerishe Gallerie. This museum features modern artists and architects that are or were active in Berlin. The permanent exhibit was not impressive to me, but I'm still trying to appreciate modern art. The special exhibit showed work by the artist and author named Erwin Blumenfeld. He worked in 20s through the 50s, having left Germany for the States during the early Hitler years. His artistic series “Hitlerfresse” was, according to the exhibit, dropped by the millions by US airplanes over Germany.
Then I walked around the corner to the Jewish Museum. I arrived at 6:00, planning to stay until it closed at 10:00. I couldn't see even half before I was chased out after 4 hours. This would have been the archtypical museum nightmare for my kids when they were younger (or even now?)
The museum is dedicated to Jewish life in the Germanic world. It covers the high points and the low points. For those who recall this personality: In the section on the Crusades, it mentions Geoffrey of Bouillon. I learned that on some occasions the Jews fought off the crusaders, sometimes successfully. There was also a temporary exhibit, “Deadly Medicine,” jointly developed by this museum and the Holocaust Museum in Washington, DC.
The museum's permanent exhibit starts at the top of a huge staircase, three floors high (or you could take the elevator). As you move through the display, I noted only as I exited, you have been descending imperceptibly so that you exit at a lower level.
As we were being urged out of the museum at 10:00, I overheard a museum person offer a visitor free admission tomorrow since he couldn't finish today. I asked if I could also take advantage of the offer, but for Thursday (since I will be busy with my Welcome Card schedule through Wednesday). She extended my admission to an extra day on Thursday. “We are always happy when our visitors take such an interest,” she said.
Leaving the museum I came upon three Spanish tourists taking a picture in front of the museum. I decided to ask them in Spanish if they would like me to take a picture of all of them. It took me a long moment to shift gears into Spanish to be able to ask them.
By this time I was beat. I practically fell asleep on the U-bahn trip back to the hotel.
A pretty day in the capital
Sunday, May 3, 2009
Strolling the city
l spent a few hours today planning my next few days of activities. Shortly after I arrived in Berlin, Martin and Corinna prepared me by getting me several fares on the transit system and getting me a “Berlin Welcome Card,” which provides 48 hours of unlimited transit use and discounts at numerous museums, venues, and restaurants. If I am to get optimal use of the welcome card, then I would have to plan it out.
I read through the booklet taking notes on any of the places I thought I might like to go, recording the opening and closing times, the locations, and how to get there. Then I figured that if I activate the card right after class tomorrow (my last day of language class), then I can be finished with it on Wednesday late afternoon. The reasons for that schedule include the following:
In the afternoon I spent several hours strolling in the Tiergarten, Berlin's equivalent of Central Park or Piedmont Park. It's a heavily wooded park adjacent to the Zoo, the Landwehr Kanal on one side and the Spree River on the other side, and the Stadtmitte on the east side.
The Tiergarten is full of streams and lakes. People were rowing in the lakes, biking through the park, and strolling on the paths. I finally came upon the Cafe am Neuen See (New Lake), the intermediate goal of my walk. I sat in the garden and drank a half liter of beer with a soft pretzel. It was not difficult to sit there for an hour or so.
Moshe mentioned that the view in Google maps shows that Berlin is a green city with many trees. That's true, and the Tiergarten contributes to the tree population. During the war, the bombing tore up many of the trees in the city. The typical picture of streets in Berlin after the Allies entered the city was shells of buildings and piles of rubble in the streets, not a tree in sight. After the war, especially in West Berlin, where the Tiergarten would have been found, there were several periods of fuel shortages, and many trees were cut down for heating fuel. Most trees in Berlin are less than 64 years old.
I had asked Martin and Corinna to dinner a few days earlier, and we agreed on Sunday dinner. Martin called to suggest that we meet in Prenzlauer Berg, near some landmarks with which I am familiar, like the Rykestrasse Synagogue. We met there at 6:00; having a cell phone is very convenient.
Before dinner we walked the neighborhood. This is the area (in the erstwhile East Berlin) where Martin and Corinna lived when they first married, and for several years until the “Wende,” the time that the Wall came down. Artists, writers, some dissidents, often lived in the area. Today it has become a prestigious address, and apartments are out of the reach even of a doctor like Martin. They pointed out to me something I hadn't noticed previously: some buildings have either plaques or paving stones at their entrance with the names and some information about the former Jewish residents that were forced out of these homes.
During dinner we talked briefly about Corinna's impending departure to be with her daughter in Chicago for her graduation. Martin and I planned vaguely to meet again with Sascho and Regina at least once before I leave. They also surprised me and gave me two CD sets, about which we had talked several days earlier. One set is Jewish songs and melodies; the other is a set of Locatelli violin pieces.
It drizzled a little bit during dinner. Starting to get cool tonight.
Strolling the city
l spent a few hours today planning my next few days of activities. Shortly after I arrived in Berlin, Martin and Corinna prepared me by getting me several fares on the transit system and getting me a “Berlin Welcome Card,” which provides 48 hours of unlimited transit use and discounts at numerous museums, venues, and restaurants. If I am to get optimal use of the welcome card, then I would have to plan it out.
I read through the booklet taking notes on any of the places I thought I might like to go, recording the opening and closing times, the locations, and how to get there. Then I figured that if I activate the card right after class tomorrow (my last day of language class), then I can be finished with it on Wednesday late afternoon. The reasons for that schedule include the following:
- the BVG (transit company) has a 7-day pass that's very reasonable, and that would work for Thursday through next Wednesday when I leave.
- Several of the places I want to see are open late either Monday or Tuesday.
- It's supposed to rain Tuesday and Wednesday; perfect for museums.
In the afternoon I spent several hours strolling in the Tiergarten, Berlin's equivalent of Central Park or Piedmont Park. It's a heavily wooded park adjacent to the Zoo, the Landwehr Kanal on one side and the Spree River on the other side, and the Stadtmitte on the east side.
The Tiergarten is full of streams and lakes. People were rowing in the lakes, biking through the park, and strolling on the paths. I finally came upon the Cafe am Neuen See (New Lake), the intermediate goal of my walk. I sat in the garden and drank a half liter of beer with a soft pretzel. It was not difficult to sit there for an hour or so.
Moshe mentioned that the view in Google maps shows that Berlin is a green city with many trees. That's true, and the Tiergarten contributes to the tree population. During the war, the bombing tore up many of the trees in the city. The typical picture of streets in Berlin after the Allies entered the city was shells of buildings and piles of rubble in the streets, not a tree in sight. After the war, especially in West Berlin, where the Tiergarten would have been found, there were several periods of fuel shortages, and many trees were cut down for heating fuel. Most trees in Berlin are less than 64 years old.
I had asked Martin and Corinna to dinner a few days earlier, and we agreed on Sunday dinner. Martin called to suggest that we meet in Prenzlauer Berg, near some landmarks with which I am familiar, like the Rykestrasse Synagogue. We met there at 6:00; having a cell phone is very convenient.
Before dinner we walked the neighborhood. This is the area (in the erstwhile East Berlin) where Martin and Corinna lived when they first married, and for several years until the “Wende,” the time that the Wall came down. Artists, writers, some dissidents, often lived in the area. Today it has become a prestigious address, and apartments are out of the reach even of a doctor like Martin. They pointed out to me something I hadn't noticed previously: some buildings have either plaques or paving stones at their entrance with the names and some information about the former Jewish residents that were forced out of these homes.
During dinner we talked briefly about Corinna's impending departure to be with her daughter in Chicago for her graduation. Martin and I planned vaguely to meet again with Sascho and Regina at least once before I leave. They also surprised me and gave me two CD sets, about which we had talked several days earlier. One set is Jewish songs and melodies; the other is a set of Locatelli violin pieces.
It drizzled a little bit during dinner. Starting to get cool tonight.
Sunday, May 3, 2009
The weekend
Saturday, May 2, 2009
Shabbat, sort of
I arrived early enough this morning to hear the Rabbi's shiur on Talmud, after which services proceeded as normal. Today I was given the hagbah honor. One of the congregants remarked how well I lifted the Torah. We adjourned to the sit-down kiddush upstairs and I met a couple additional people. Remarkably, I remembered the names of a few people I had met last week.
I had to get an errand done today even though it's Shabbat. Several days ago, when I tried to charge my camera battery, I couldn't. I had recharged once or twice since I left home, but last night when I plugged it in, the charger didn't light up. (It was plugged into the same outlet that was powering the PC.) I tried plugging and unplugging; tried another outlet; tried removing and replacing the battery. No luck.
Today I'll try to remedy the situation. I'll try to find a camera shop to see if they can give me some insights. That should test my German. First I asked the hotel reception where they suggest I go. They advised me of a place a few blocks from here. I went there and couldn't find it, so I asked someone. “It's right here,” he said. “They changed the name.” It was a large Macy's type department store.
The camera department didn't have either batteries or chargers, but the clerk helpfully directed me down the street to a store called Saturn. I arrived there to find something like a Circuit City or perhaps a mid-scale (as contrasted with up-scale and certain in contrast with the actual low-scale) Brandsmart, but about twice as comprehensive. The place had everything electronic. It is an impressive store on multiple floors.
The sales person suggested that it must be the battery, as the charger never goes bad. He analyzed the problem by first placing the battery in one of his chargers; it started charging properly. So it must be the charger. They had no Canon charger or other "native" charger for this particular battery, but had a wall full of chargers of every sort.
I finally had to buy an apparatus that is a base for which you buy an insert for whatever battery you wish to charge. The base works with car battery, 110V, and 220V. That's the good news. The bad news is that it costs 35 euros. I took it back to the room and it charged the battery just fine. Less expensive than a new camera, I guess.
Walking around today and the last few days, I enjoy observing the way traffic and people interact. Traffic – on foot, on bikes, in cars, and on public transport -- is very orderly. Even when there's no queue, people don't shove or crowd. At the pedestrian crossings, if the light shows “stop,” then the pedestrians stop, even when there's no sign of cross traffic. If pedestrians should be in the street when the cars get the green light, then they are likely to be honked at. Here, red means stop and green means go; and that's that. Even the bicycles stop at red lights – all the time.
In the evening I went to mincha and seudat shlishi. I got there early enough for the rabbi's shiur, followed by mincha. We adjourned to seudat shlishi, where they had a nice variety of salads, tuna, herring, vodka, fruit, bread and crackers. We sang, after which the rabbi gave another lesson. The singing was remarkable for it sheer volume, but also for its musicality. EVERYONE sang in tune; many people harmonized; it was electrifying.
At the end, the rabbi asked if I'd like to lead birkat. I said that I wasn't familiar with the way they say it; he said, “we say it the way you say it.” So, I started it off, and shortly everyone was going at their own speed, until everyone finished singing the last paragraph together. After maariv and havdalah, everyone took their leave, wishing each other a good week.
Shabbat, sort of
I arrived early enough this morning to hear the Rabbi's shiur on Talmud, after which services proceeded as normal. Today I was given the hagbah honor. One of the congregants remarked how well I lifted the Torah. We adjourned to the sit-down kiddush upstairs and I met a couple additional people. Remarkably, I remembered the names of a few people I had met last week.
I had to get an errand done today even though it's Shabbat. Several days ago, when I tried to charge my camera battery, I couldn't. I had recharged once or twice since I left home, but last night when I plugged it in, the charger didn't light up. (It was plugged into the same outlet that was powering the PC.) I tried plugging and unplugging; tried another outlet; tried removing and replacing the battery. No luck.
Today I'll try to remedy the situation. I'll try to find a camera shop to see if they can give me some insights. That should test my German. First I asked the hotel reception where they suggest I go. They advised me of a place a few blocks from here. I went there and couldn't find it, so I asked someone. “It's right here,” he said. “They changed the name.” It was a large Macy's type department store.
The camera department didn't have either batteries or chargers, but the clerk helpfully directed me down the street to a store called Saturn. I arrived there to find something like a Circuit City or perhaps a mid-scale (as contrasted with up-scale and certain in contrast with the actual low-scale) Brandsmart, but about twice as comprehensive. The place had everything electronic. It is an impressive store on multiple floors.
The sales person suggested that it must be the battery, as the charger never goes bad. He analyzed the problem by first placing the battery in one of his chargers; it started charging properly. So it must be the charger. They had no Canon charger or other "native" charger for this particular battery, but had a wall full of chargers of every sort.
I finally had to buy an apparatus that is a base for which you buy an insert for whatever battery you wish to charge. The base works with car battery, 110V, and 220V. That's the good news. The bad news is that it costs 35 euros. I took it back to the room and it charged the battery just fine. Less expensive than a new camera, I guess.
Walking around today and the last few days, I enjoy observing the way traffic and people interact. Traffic – on foot, on bikes, in cars, and on public transport -- is very orderly. Even when there's no queue, people don't shove or crowd. At the pedestrian crossings, if the light shows “stop,” then the pedestrians stop, even when there's no sign of cross traffic. If pedestrians should be in the street when the cars get the green light, then they are likely to be honked at. Here, red means stop and green means go; and that's that. Even the bicycles stop at red lights – all the time.
In the evening I went to mincha and seudat shlishi. I got there early enough for the rabbi's shiur, followed by mincha. We adjourned to seudat shlishi, where they had a nice variety of salads, tuna, herring, vodka, fruit, bread and crackers. We sang, after which the rabbi gave another lesson. The singing was remarkable for it sheer volume, but also for its musicality. EVERYONE sang in tune; many people harmonized; it was electrifying.
At the end, the rabbi asked if I'd like to lead birkat. I said that I wasn't familiar with the way they say it; he said, “we say it the way you say it.” So, I started it off, and shortly everyone was going at their own speed, until everyone finished singing the last paragraph together. After maariv and havdalah, everyone took their leave, wishing each other a good week.
Saturday, May 2, 2009
Storm the Barricades, or...
Friday, May 1, 2009
May Day
How could I have forgotten?? May Day is a state holiday in just about every country in the world (except the USA). All stores are closed, even groceries and pharmacies. But public transport runs and the museums are open.
This morning I boarded the bus and bought a day pass. I'm going to spend several hours on the bus doing a little sight seeing. I took the bus across from the hotel to the Zoo station, which is one of the focal points of the city. There I boarded the #100 bus. This bus passes some of the significant historical sites in the city. On this gorgeous day we saw lots of people out making picnics and strolling in the streets, especially Unter den Linden. When we passed the huge Tiergarten, I noticed lots of people lying out naked, mostly (or maybe all of them) men. I'm wondering if it's a meeting point.
I've spent some time on public transport – trains and buses – and the local transport culture is interesting. Dogs frequently accompany riders on transport. There is a place on all trains where one can place a bike or luggage, and many people roll their baby strollers onto transport. It seems like the stations and trains are always in heavy use. Many important routes run every 5 minutes or more frequently; most routes run at least every 10 minutes. Trains and buses are almost always right on time. Many bus stops and virtually all train stops show how many minutes until the next arrival of each line that passes.
I had taken the #100 to the end of the line at Alexanderplatz, and I walked to the bus stop to take the #200 back to Zoo station; it follows a slightly different route. I waited well past the time when the next bus should come, and it seemed as if no buses were coming except for those of one particular line for which this stop is the end of the line. After three such buses stopped and parked, the driver of the third bus advised us that all bus and streetcar traffic was now shut down. If we wanted to go anywhere, we had to take either the S- or the U-bahn.
My intent was to go stroll some Unter den Linden (that's the name of the main street in the center of Berlin), and there are no train stops on the street except at the Brandenburg Gate, which is too far from the nice shaded area of the avenue. Unter den Linden ends at the Gate, which was the epicenter of the border between the erstwhile East and West Berlin, and probably the most photographed part of The Wall. Its centrality in the life of Berlin has returned since the fall of the wall.
I got on the S-bahn figuring to get off at Friedrichstraße, which is only about 3 blocks from the avenue. When I was finally Unter den Linden, I found the street teeming with police of all description: motorcycle, squad cars, vans, riot gear, traffic cops,.... They had closed all traffic to the street.
I asked one of the policemen if it were safe to walk Unter den Linden and he said that there was about to be a parade and demonstration, but that he didn't think it would be dangerous. So I walked to the eastern end of the avenue at the Staatsoper and the Humboldt University.
There on a large square was a congregation of perhaps 1,000 or so people listening to speakers go on and on about something that was unintelligible due to the drums beating in the background and the echoes created by the sound systems. I decided to get out of the noise and wait it all out.
I sat in an outdoor restaurant in the courtyard of the Opera and ordered a beer – Berliner Pilsner. After sitting for a while in the crowded patio, two middle-aged gentlemen asked if they could join me at my table; of course I invited them to do so. They sat a few minutes chatting with each other. When there was a lull in their conversation, I asked them (tongue in cheek) if they had come for the demonstration. That turned out to be a good conversation starter. I learned that they were on vacation from a small town 2 hours from Innsbruck, Austria. They spoke with a heavy Tyrolian accent that I had mistaken for south German. You see, they were making accommodations in their speech when talking to me. Every year they take a long weekend to visit some city. One year it was Oslo, another Riga. By the way, they commented on how lovely the girls in Riga are, always nicely put together. I soon asked them if they had ever tried a Berliner Weisse (beer), like those on the tables of many of the guests on the patio; they had not. I told them that I am not fond of it, but if one is in Berlin, one should at least try it. It is served normally with a “shot” of syrup in it, either Waldmeister or Himbeer (woodruff – green -- or raspberry -- red). They agreed that they should try it; they didn't like it much.
When the parade finally left the square, and the noise subsided, I wished my table-mates a good trip and I went across the street in front of the University, where there is a statue of Alexander von Humboldt, the brother of Wilhelm who was co-founder of the University of Berlin. The inscription under the statue, in Spanish, states
At the end of the day, I went to Chabad for Kabbalat Shabbat. I had learned earlier in the week that there is a Shabbat dinner at Chabad, and I later learned that I did not have to preregister.
The Chabad house is at the end of a cul de sac not far off the main West Berlin boulevard. As I walked up to the building, I noticed a stark difference from other Jewish institutions. Although there was a police presence, there was no interview and pat-down at the front door. When I remarked about this, I was told that the Chabad house is always open.
Tonight was to be student night, a once-a-month event. About 25 or more students showed up, about half of them after the services were almost over. I chatted after the service with a fellow who introduced himself to me because we have the same last name. Also, he immigrated from Riga 30 years earlier. Since my grandparents came from a town outside of Riga, I wondered if we might be related. It appears not.
We made our way to kiddush and dinner and sat down. I wondered where the students were, since I was looking forward to a nice lively dinner with singing, like the one Bela and I went to when we were in Germany a few years ago. Turns out that they decided to have two separate dinners, and I ended up in the boring one, with people who speak almost no German or English, but Russian and Hebrew.
At the beginning of dinner the rabbi kept asking me a question in Hebrew that I didn't understand. He speaks almost no German. Afterwards I learned that was asking me if I wanted to say kiddush.
They served a very nice dinner, and we all said good night and good Shabbos.
May Day
How could I have forgotten?? May Day is a state holiday in just about every country in the world (except the USA). All stores are closed, even groceries and pharmacies. But public transport runs and the museums are open.
This morning I boarded the bus and bought a day pass. I'm going to spend several hours on the bus doing a little sight seeing. I took the bus across from the hotel to the Zoo station, which is one of the focal points of the city. There I boarded the #100 bus. This bus passes some of the significant historical sites in the city. On this gorgeous day we saw lots of people out making picnics and strolling in the streets, especially Unter den Linden. When we passed the huge Tiergarten, I noticed lots of people lying out naked, mostly (or maybe all of them) men. I'm wondering if it's a meeting point.
I've spent some time on public transport – trains and buses – and the local transport culture is interesting. Dogs frequently accompany riders on transport. There is a place on all trains where one can place a bike or luggage, and many people roll their baby strollers onto transport. It seems like the stations and trains are always in heavy use. Many important routes run every 5 minutes or more frequently; most routes run at least every 10 minutes. Trains and buses are almost always right on time. Many bus stops and virtually all train stops show how many minutes until the next arrival of each line that passes.
I had taken the #100 to the end of the line at Alexanderplatz, and I walked to the bus stop to take the #200 back to Zoo station; it follows a slightly different route. I waited well past the time when the next bus should come, and it seemed as if no buses were coming except for those of one particular line for which this stop is the end of the line. After three such buses stopped and parked, the driver of the third bus advised us that all bus and streetcar traffic was now shut down. If we wanted to go anywhere, we had to take either the S- or the U-bahn.
My intent was to go stroll some Unter den Linden (that's the name of the main street in the center of Berlin), and there are no train stops on the street except at the Brandenburg Gate, which is too far from the nice shaded area of the avenue. Unter den Linden ends at the Gate, which was the epicenter of the border between the erstwhile East and West Berlin, and probably the most photographed part of The Wall. Its centrality in the life of Berlin has returned since the fall of the wall.
I got on the S-bahn figuring to get off at Friedrichstraße, which is only about 3 blocks from the avenue. When I was finally Unter den Linden, I found the street teeming with police of all description: motorcycle, squad cars, vans, riot gear, traffic cops,.... They had closed all traffic to the street.
I asked one of the policemen if it were safe to walk Unter den Linden and he said that there was about to be a parade and demonstration, but that he didn't think it would be dangerous. So I walked to the eastern end of the avenue at the Staatsoper and the Humboldt University.
There on a large square was a congregation of perhaps 1,000 or so people listening to speakers go on and on about something that was unintelligible due to the drums beating in the background and the echoes created by the sound systems. I decided to get out of the noise and wait it all out.
I sat in an outdoor restaurant in the courtyard of the Opera and ordered a beer – Berliner Pilsner. After sitting for a while in the crowded patio, two middle-aged gentlemen asked if they could join me at my table; of course I invited them to do so. They sat a few minutes chatting with each other. When there was a lull in their conversation, I asked them (tongue in cheek) if they had come for the demonstration. That turned out to be a good conversation starter. I learned that they were on vacation from a small town 2 hours from Innsbruck, Austria. They spoke with a heavy Tyrolian accent that I had mistaken for south German. You see, they were making accommodations in their speech when talking to me. Every year they take a long weekend to visit some city. One year it was Oslo, another Riga. By the way, they commented on how lovely the girls in Riga are, always nicely put together. I soon asked them if they had ever tried a Berliner Weisse (beer), like those on the tables of many of the guests on the patio; they had not. I told them that I am not fond of it, but if one is in Berlin, one should at least try it. It is served normally with a “shot” of syrup in it, either Waldmeister or Himbeer (woodruff – green -- or raspberry -- red). They agreed that they should try it; they didn't like it much.
When the parade finally left the square, and the noise subsided, I wished my table-mates a good trip and I went across the street in front of the University, where there is a statue of Alexander von Humboldt, the brother of Wilhelm who was co-founder of the University of Berlin. The inscription under the statue, in Spanish, states
“Al Segundo Descubridor de Cuba
la Universidad de la Habana 1939”
I don't understand where the 1939 date comes from, unless that is when the statue was dedicated.la Universidad de la Habana 1939”
At the end of the day, I went to Chabad for Kabbalat Shabbat. I had learned earlier in the week that there is a Shabbat dinner at Chabad, and I later learned that I did not have to preregister.
The Chabad house is at the end of a cul de sac not far off the main West Berlin boulevard. As I walked up to the building, I noticed a stark difference from other Jewish institutions. Although there was a police presence, there was no interview and pat-down at the front door. When I remarked about this, I was told that the Chabad house is always open.
Tonight was to be student night, a once-a-month event. About 25 or more students showed up, about half of them after the services were almost over. I chatted after the service with a fellow who introduced himself to me because we have the same last name. Also, he immigrated from Riga 30 years earlier. Since my grandparents came from a town outside of Riga, I wondered if we might be related. It appears not.
We made our way to kiddush and dinner and sat down. I wondered where the students were, since I was looking forward to a nice lively dinner with singing, like the one Bela and I went to when we were in Germany a few years ago. Turns out that they decided to have two separate dinners, and I ended up in the boring one, with people who speak almost no German or English, but Russian and Hebrew.
At the beginning of dinner the rabbi kept asking me a question in Hebrew that I didn't understand. He speaks almost no German. Afterwards I learned that was asking me if I wanted to say kiddush.
They served a very nice dinner, and we all said good night and good Shabbos.
Getting Acclimated
Thursday, April 30, 2009
Free Museums
My first breakfast at the pension was very nice. The owners go out of their way to please. They have several kinds of bread as well as numerous pastries. They have homemade stewed apples from their own garden (which is outside the city), a variety of cheeses, hard boiled eggs, muesli, yogurt, and several sorts of meats that I don't eat. They went out of their way to accommodate, as I asked about hot milk with coffee. They made me hot chocolate. They were quite sensitive to my having advised them that I eat no pork.
This morning I spent some time figuring out what to do for the next few days. The hotel people directed me to two circular bus routes that are “like a city tour, but without the explanations.” I think I'll do that tomorrow.
Class today dealt in large measure with listening exercises, and then with vocabulary. These are two areas that are important to me. I still can't understand the other students very well.
Thursdays the state museums are open until 10:00, and are free after 6:00. Of course, I took advantage of that tonight.
On my walk to the museums, I stopped to eat at an Italian restaurant, where they make their own potato gnocchi – which is, of course, what I ordered. The bread that was served was of two types: a very nice thick-crusted bread that you would expect to get at such a restaurant, and a very thin, crisp bread. I asked the waiter about it, and you can see it in a picture when I get around to downloading them. It is Pane Carasau (from Sardinia): they don't make it in the restaurant, but they buy a thin bread; oil is brushed on top and then it is baked/crisped in the oven. While, I guess, it's not unlike pita chips, it's MUCH thinner. I've not had such a thing before.
I'd say that Berlin has one of the largest and most varietal collection of art in the world. In part that's because the German archaeologists brought many of their finds back to Berlin in the last half of the Nineteenth Century. It's partly because many of the high points in art, from Lucas Cranach to Expressionism happened in the German-speaking countries. It's partly because German aristocracy has bought a lot of art through the centuries. It's also partly because modern Germany is rich and can buy art. As far as I know, the museums do not hold any art confiscated by Nazis in the Third Reich, even though much of such art is still unrecovered and/or not repatriated, but not under the aegis of any public museum.
They have built new museums since the Berlin Wall came down. In fact, in the five years since Bela and I visited last, there has been considerable new construction, some of which has been museum buldings. Just in the vicinity of the famous Berlin Philharmonic building in the Tiergarten area, there are the Gemäldegalerie (picture gallery) and the New National Art Gallery, both new.
The Gemäldegalerie holds the paintings from the 14th Century to the18th Century. The collection includes an unbelievable number of famous paintings, including Rembrandt's “Man in the Golden Helmet.” Paintings by Vermeer are rare; perhaps there are 25 in the whole world. There are two in this museum. They have a number of painting of each of the following, among others: Cranach, Hals, Tintoretto, Rubins, Rembrandt, and Gainesborough. Many of these paintings used to be housed in the Dahlem Museum.
In this gallery I noticed that they display the oil paintings differently from other galleries I have visited. There is a glass plate over each oil painting, just as there might be over a watercolor, as part of the framed display. Previously I had understood that oils could not be covered in that fashion, as they need to “breathe.” Obviously, it provides a measure of protection, I suppose, but it also makes it hard to see the picture in some circumstances. When the room is too light, there are too many reflections. To take a photo of the picture is also difficult, as one must hold the camera where reflections are minimized.
Those of you who have frequented museums know how particular museum guards can be. “No flash” or “Please don't touch the sculpture” or “Not so close to the painting” are standard museum guard phrases in all languages. Now imagine a German museum guard. There is an inlaid stripe in the parquet flooring around the perimeter of the display galleries. It's about 2 feet from the wall. I came upon a painting by Pieter Breugels with the details typical of many of his paintings of people being tortured in Hell. It's practically impossible to see the details as far away as a couple of feet, so I was leaning in pretty close. Since my foot was over the line, the guard told me to move back. Since I still wanted to study the details, I tried to lean in, but I could see him hovering in the corner. As soon as my foot touched the stripe, he reminded me to move back.
Next time I'm bringing binoculars.
The New National Gallery is supposed to be where the 20th Century painters are assembled, including the Expressionists. Unfortunately, only a very small part of the collection is displayed. Forty years ago, I had the opportunity to see scores of Expressionist paintings when I was in Berlin, so I asked the museum staff where they were now kept. I was told that most of the collection is in storage and is displayed only rarely.
I really was looking forward to seeing the Berliner Secession, Georg Grosz, Wassily Kandinsky, and so forth.
This fact is especially annoying since both of the museums I saw today had huge empty spaces. I'm not talking about a few empty spaces on the wall. The New National Gallery is a large, square, black glass building that has one large storey above ground and one below ground. It is at least 200 feet by 200 feet (I didn't measure.), and there is NOTHING on the ground floor except the ticket counter and coat room.
I was able to rush through the two museums in the 4 hours before closing time. Tired, I'm going to bed.
Free Museums
My first breakfast at the pension was very nice. The owners go out of their way to please. They have several kinds of bread as well as numerous pastries. They have homemade stewed apples from their own garden (which is outside the city), a variety of cheeses, hard boiled eggs, muesli, yogurt, and several sorts of meats that I don't eat. They went out of their way to accommodate, as I asked about hot milk with coffee. They made me hot chocolate. They were quite sensitive to my having advised them that I eat no pork.
This morning I spent some time figuring out what to do for the next few days. The hotel people directed me to two circular bus routes that are “like a city tour, but without the explanations.” I think I'll do that tomorrow.
Class today dealt in large measure with listening exercises, and then with vocabulary. These are two areas that are important to me. I still can't understand the other students very well.
Thursdays the state museums are open until 10:00, and are free after 6:00. Of course, I took advantage of that tonight.
On my walk to the museums, I stopped to eat at an Italian restaurant, where they make their own potato gnocchi – which is, of course, what I ordered. The bread that was served was of two types: a very nice thick-crusted bread that you would expect to get at such a restaurant, and a very thin, crisp bread. I asked the waiter about it, and you can see it in a picture when I get around to downloading them. It is Pane Carasau (from Sardinia): they don't make it in the restaurant, but they buy a thin bread; oil is brushed on top and then it is baked/crisped in the oven. While, I guess, it's not unlike pita chips, it's MUCH thinner. I've not had such a thing before.
I'd say that Berlin has one of the largest and most varietal collection of art in the world. In part that's because the German archaeologists brought many of their finds back to Berlin in the last half of the Nineteenth Century. It's partly because many of the high points in art, from Lucas Cranach to Expressionism happened in the German-speaking countries. It's partly because German aristocracy has bought a lot of art through the centuries. It's also partly because modern Germany is rich and can buy art. As far as I know, the museums do not hold any art confiscated by Nazis in the Third Reich, even though much of such art is still unrecovered and/or not repatriated, but not under the aegis of any public museum.
They have built new museums since the Berlin Wall came down. In fact, in the five years since Bela and I visited last, there has been considerable new construction, some of which has been museum buldings. Just in the vicinity of the famous Berlin Philharmonic building in the Tiergarten area, there are the Gemäldegalerie (picture gallery) and the New National Art Gallery, both new.
The Gemäldegalerie holds the paintings from the 14th Century to the18th Century. The collection includes an unbelievable number of famous paintings, including Rembrandt's “Man in the Golden Helmet.” Paintings by Vermeer are rare; perhaps there are 25 in the whole world. There are two in this museum. They have a number of painting of each of the following, among others: Cranach, Hals, Tintoretto, Rubins, Rembrandt, and Gainesborough. Many of these paintings used to be housed in the Dahlem Museum.
In this gallery I noticed that they display the oil paintings differently from other galleries I have visited. There is a glass plate over each oil painting, just as there might be over a watercolor, as part of the framed display. Previously I had understood that oils could not be covered in that fashion, as they need to “breathe.” Obviously, it provides a measure of protection, I suppose, but it also makes it hard to see the picture in some circumstances. When the room is too light, there are too many reflections. To take a photo of the picture is also difficult, as one must hold the camera where reflections are minimized.
Those of you who have frequented museums know how particular museum guards can be. “No flash” or “Please don't touch the sculpture” or “Not so close to the painting” are standard museum guard phrases in all languages. Now imagine a German museum guard. There is an inlaid stripe in the parquet flooring around the perimeter of the display galleries. It's about 2 feet from the wall. I came upon a painting by Pieter Breugels with the details typical of many of his paintings of people being tortured in Hell. It's practically impossible to see the details as far away as a couple of feet, so I was leaning in pretty close. Since my foot was over the line, the guard told me to move back. Since I still wanted to study the details, I tried to lean in, but I could see him hovering in the corner. As soon as my foot touched the stripe, he reminded me to move back.
Next time I'm bringing binoculars.
The New National Gallery is supposed to be where the 20th Century painters are assembled, including the Expressionists. Unfortunately, only a very small part of the collection is displayed. Forty years ago, I had the opportunity to see scores of Expressionist paintings when I was in Berlin, so I asked the museum staff where they were now kept. I was told that most of the collection is in storage and is displayed only rarely.
I really was looking forward to seeing the Berliner Secession, Georg Grosz, Wassily Kandinsky, and so forth.
This fact is especially annoying since both of the museums I saw today had huge empty spaces. I'm not talking about a few empty spaces on the wall. The New National Gallery is a large, square, black glass building that has one large storey above ground and one below ground. It is at least 200 feet by 200 feet (I didn't measure.), and there is NOTHING on the ground floor except the ticket counter and coat room.
I was able to rush through the two museums in the 4 hours before closing time. Tired, I'm going to bed.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)