Auf Wiedersehen, Berlin

I am writing this post at 38,000 feet, on my flight home to the United States.  I am excited to be heading back to family and friends, and to new opportunities for work.  But I already feel Sehnsucht, a nostalgic yearning, for Berlin.  The “poor but sexy” city (no longer quite so) has gotten under my skin like a tattoo.

This has been a wonderful year for Annette, our daughters and me.  Our horizons have been broadened with all that we have had the opportunity to see, do and learn.

Mamta is nearly fluent in German, having attended the third grade at our local elementary school.   She has several close friends here, and is planning to join the Klassenfahrt, or annual class trip, next June when her current classmates will be finishing fourth grade.  Leaving Berlin is not easy for Mamta.  She will particularly miss her friends, and her Berlin-based cousins Jacob, Ellie and Jonas.

Rani rose to the academic challenge of a new high school, where she also has a solid group of friends.  She is planning to return to Berlin after summer vacation for her final year of high school.  Rani and her friend Miranda are currently looking for an apartment together.  I am still coming to grips with the notion that this year in Berlin was our last with Rani as a minor.  She turns eighteen in October.

Annette succeeded in keeping her engineering business on track during our year abroad. The clients with whom she worked were all in New England, and they either forgot that she was an ocean away, or didn’t care.  Annette made sure that we took good advantage of the many cultural opportunities available in Berlin.  We will both miss living within biking distance of three opera houses, dozens of movie theaters, and Bar Jeder Vernunft.  We all enjoyed spending time with Annette’s family in Germany, but I think it was especially nice for her, after having lived in the US for fifteen years.

For my part, I learned much about Germany’s Energiewende, had numerous articles published as Green Building Advisor’s “European Correspondent,” and improved my German substantially.   More so than at home in Walpole, I had the time and flexibility during this “sabattical year” to do things with Rani and Mamta.   And Annette and I enjoyed new activities together, including jogging in the Grunewald park, playing tennis at our local club, and biking throughout the city.

We did not make time to do all the things we had considered or hoped for.  Some day we would still like to go roller blading at Tempelhof field, sip tea at the Literaturhaus cafe, and kayak on the Landwerkanal.  It turns out that a year is not a long time to get to know a city like Berlin.  But this means we have plenty to look forward to on future visits.

While I am excited and also curious (what does the future hold?) to be returning home, the main emotion I am feeling is gratitude.  I am thankful to Annette for being from such a cool country, and for supporting us while we were there.  I am thankful to our daughters for being willing participants as we uprooted them from Walpole (where we all were quite happy) and plunked them down in Berlin.  Other family members also deserve thanks.  We had wonderful experiences with Annette’s parents, her sisters and their families.   And back on the home front, my siblings helped out each other and my parents, who graciously did not complain once (at least not to me!) about our being absent from the house next door.

While traveling or living in another country offers much to appreciate, my favorite aspect is the heightened sense of awareness that naturally arises.  I felt this most acutely during our first few weeks in Berlin.  Although we had previously spent time in the city, moving there to live made everything seem new and different and exciting.  I brought my camera everywhere, because so much of what I was seeing seemed noteworthy.  That sense of newness, the “beginner’s mind” in which all things are possible, faded slowly as the months passed.  Our daily life in Berlin became more routine.  What had seemed foreign became familiar.

Some weeks ago, I noticed once again that my awareness of the city was sharpened, only this time it was because I was trying to soak in all that I could before leaving.  I would bike the long way from Point A to Point B, just to experience streets I had not yet been on.  That feeling of Sehnsucht, of longing — in this case, for something that was not yet gone — colored my trips through the city.

I am now wondering whether, upon returning to Walpole, I will feel some of that same sense of newness that I felt when we moved to Berlin.  I expect that our home community will feel familiar but different.  If that’s so, we won’t know how much has changed in our absence, and how much our being away has changed us.  T. S. Eliot writes in Four Quartets,

            We shall not cease from exploration

            And the end of all our exploring

            Will be to arrive where we started

            And know the place for the first time.

Or, at least to see it with a new perspective.

Thanks to all who visited this blog.  I look forward to the possibility of future Snapshots from Berlin. 

The Gasometer

The Gasometer is one of several unusual structures that I have glimpsed repeatedly over the years while biking through Berlin.

the Gasometer

the Gasometer

Like the spherical water tower in Park Gleisdreieck, reminiscent of a WWI-era pickelhaube helmet,

water tower at Gleisdreieck

water tower at Gleisdreieck

Prussian Pickelhaube helmet

Prussian Pickelhaube helmet

and the giant pink pipe at the west end of the Tiergarten,

pink pipe in Tiergarten

pink pipe in Tiergarten

I have wondered about the Gasometer’s history, use, and future.  Last Friday my questions were answered when Annette, her cousin Katrin and I climbed 420 steps to the top of the 80 meter tall structure. Continue reading

Two Trips

One of the original intentions of this blog was to share with family members and friends some of the experiences that Annette, our daughters and I are having here in Germany.  In that spirit, I just posted to the Gallery photos from two recent trips that Annette and I had the good fortune to take.  The first was with Rani, horseback riding in northeastern Spain. The second was with Mamta and another family, bicycling in northern Germany.

Karneval

Karneval parade

Karneval parade

Two weeks ago, Annette, Rani, Mamta and I attended Karneval in Bonn with Annette’s sisters and their families.  In Germany, Karneval is celebrated most enthusiastically in areas of the country that have historically been Catholic.  The state of North Rhine-Westfalia (“NRW”) where Bonn is located is the epicenter of Karneval celebrations in Germany.  Annette’s sister Susanne lives in Bonn with her husband Mortiz (a “Bonner”) and their three children.  Since Annette had lived in NRW during her high school years, she was familiar with the Karneval celebrations there, and was enthusiastic about our experiencing them as a family.

Karneval has its roots in Christian traditions leading up to Easter.  The celebrating begins in earnest on “Fat Thursday,” the Thursday preceding Ash Wednesday.  Six days of uninhibited excess end with Lent, a period of fasting and renunciation.  Rhinelanders take the partying seriously: the celebrations typically begin at work on Thursday, and most employees are not expected to return to work until the following Wednesday.  Each day parades are held throughout the region, with the largest being in Cologne on Rosenmontag — Rose Monday.

We traveled to Bonn on Friday afternoon, and returned to Berlin late Sunday evening. What we found at Karneval was an energetic mash-up of Halloween, New Year’s Eve and Spring Break. Continue reading

Law and Order in the Park

Several months ago while driving in Berlin, I was passed by an official-looking car that caught my attention.  I snapped this photo of it at the next intersection:

Ordnungsamt vehicle

Ordnungsamt vehicle

The word Ordnungsamt on the back of the car translates literally as Orderliness Department, although a more meaningful rendering might be Office for Public Order.  I know that Germans have a reputation for being orderly, but still I was surprised to see that a public office was devoted to maintaining order.  And I wasn’t really sure what members of the Ordnungsamt do.  Today I found out.

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Backcountry Skiing in Praxmar

backcountry in Praxmar

backcountry in Praxmar

Last Monday and Tuesday, Annette and I had work-related meetings in South Tyrol (northern Italy).  We visited several production facilities owned by the Rubner Group, a holding company that includes manufacturers of glulam beams, wood panels, engineered timbers, and pre-fabricated houses.  Since it’s January and the Alps are between Germany and Italy, we decided to spend the weekend near Innsbruck, Austria, on our way south.

For years Annette has been interested in backcountry skiing. She got a taste of it last year while visiting our friends Julie, Adam and Christina in Idaho, but she has always wanted to ski backcountry in the Alps.  Last weekend we were able to try it.

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The Christmas Story

We spent our Christmas holiday at Annette’s parents’ house in the small village of Lauenhagen, in northeastern Germany. Although this was not my first Christmas in Germany, it was my first here with children.  Now that I speak a fair amount of German, it should have been simple for me to follow the rituals of Christmas here, but I have to confess that some of them still don’t make sense to me.

In America, we do a pretty good job of keeping Jesus and Santa Claus separate at Christmas time.  We all know that Christmas celebrates the birth of Jesus, a drama that is re-enacted in still lifes and living crèches across the country.  Perhaps we attend church on Christmas Eve to remember and celebrate the birth of Jesus.  And on the night before Christmas, Santa Claus, who with his elves at the North Pole has been working all year long on presents for the good girls and boys, climbs into his heavily-laden sleigh and, led by the red-nosed Rudolph, circles the globe.  He descends chimneys, delivers gifts, fills stockings, and downs milk and cookies.  Pretty straightforward.

der Weihnachtsmann

der Weihnachtsmann

In Germany, at least in the areas I have been frequenting, there’s a different story circulating — one that I am having trouble grasping.  Gifts are delivered sometime during the late afternoon of Christmas Eve.  The deliveries are made by “Christkind” (the Christ Child), who is helped by “Der Weihnachtsmann” (Santa Claus).  When I ask Germans how the Christ Child and the Weihnachtsmann get around the globe so quickly with all those gifts, they are evasive, and murmer that the Christ Child is sometimes depicted as having wings.  So how do these co-conspirators get into the houses, and how do they know that nobody will be around when they do?  Silence. Blank stares.  The obfuscation and ambiguity are all the more curious coming from Germans, whom I have generally found to be very rational people.

Since I am a guest in their fine country, I am inclined to give Germans the benefit of the doubt.  I am pursuing the theory that the Germans’ story of Christmas is a noble attempt to resist the commercialization of this holy holiday.  The teaming up of baby Jesus with Santa Claus could be a metaphor for keeping the true spirit of Christmas alive.  This may be the case, but frankly, I don’t see children buying it.  Better to tell children the truth about Jesus and Santa Claus — that they are two sides of the same celebration — because at least the true stories make sense.

Despite the lack of a coherent, reasonable Christmas Story, Annette, our daughters and I had a fun and relaxing Christmas with Annette’s parents and relatives.  The weather was too warm for snow, but we did go for a few lovely long walks and bike rides.  I have posted numerous pictures in the Gallery called “Christmas in Lauenhagen.”

Der Weihnachtsmarkt am Alexanderplatz

Germany does Christmas well.  Annette has tried her best over the years to transplant to New Hampshire a few of the Christmas traditions she most cherishes, such as Advent singing, Glühwein, and real candles on our Christmas tree.  But it’s not the same as being here.

Glühwein stand

Glühwein stand

During the last weekend of November, Christmas markets (Weihnachtsmärkte) sprang up all over Berlin.  In the simplest cases, these markets consist of a few huts where one can purchase mulled wine and warm snacks, with tall round tables around which to gather in the evening chill. However, most of Berlin’s Weihnachtsmärkte are much more elaborate. I noticed in early December that the local newspapers were running reviews of the dozen or so largest Weihnächtsmarkte in the city, rating them as best for kids, most romantic, best shopping opportunities, etc.

We went to our first Weihnachtsmarkt of the season a few weeks ago.  It was set up at the Gendarmenmarkt plaza, where one also finds the Berlin Konzerthaus, the French Cathedral, and the German Cathedral.  Annette was put off by our having to pay a €1 entrance fee (“I’ve never had to pay to get into a Weihnachtsmarkt!”), but the cost of admission turned out to be well worthwhile.  The numerous huts were attractively constructed and decorated, the food and drinks were good, and there were lovely handcrafts for sale.  On a central stage, six musicians dressed as angels performed Christmas instrumentals on dulcimers and harps.  Unfortunately, I neglected to bring my camera.

Several nights ago I set out with Rani and Mamta to document for this blog the Berlin Weihnachtsmarkt experience.  We considered going to the market at Potsdamer Platz, where we had seen sledding on an impressive man-made slope, and the huts were set up to mimic an aprés ski experience, but instead we decided to head for the market at Alexanderplatz.  What we found there was not what I had expected.

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Die Jagd

Annette has a number of uncles, cousins and in-laws who are hunters.  Her uncle Klaus is probably the most avid of her hunting relatives.  Fortunately for him, he owns several forests abundant in wildlife, and he has the means to organize multiple hunting parties each year.  These are parties in two senses of the word: a large group of people headed into the woods, and a celebration with family and friends.

1 treibingIn mid November, Klaus hosted his annual fall hunt near the hamlet of Lauenhagen, about one-and-a-half hours north of Berlin by car. Annette’s parents live in the village, as does her uncle Hartmut, who farms the surrounding land.  Klaus’s large country manor house dominates the approach to Lauenhagen.  Another uncle owns a house nearby.

The hunting party began with a dinner on Friday evening in the hunting lodge, a renovated stone barn located on the far side of the courtyard in front of Klaus’s house.  Annette and I missed the dinner because we had tickets to see a concert in Berlin that evening, but we arrived on Saturday morning in time for the pre-hunt breakfast.  We borrowed rubber boots  — Gummistiefel — and loaded up on eggs, bacon, rolls and coffee.  We then gathered with the other participants in the courtyard.

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Clärchen’s Ballhaus

0 Claerchens_Ballhaus

Clärchen’s Ballhaus

A few weeks ago, Annette began talking about visiting Clärchen’s Ballhaus. She said it was one of Berlin’s oldest dance halls, a place where one could go to ballrooom dance on any day of the week.

Talk of ballroom dancing makes me nervous, but I have learned to mask this involuntary response with stoic enthusiasm: “That sounds interesting. We should check it out sometime.”

Annette grew up breaking hearts on the (ballroom) dance floor. She loves to dance, and I am sure that the partners of her youth loved to dance with her.  I am a relative late-comer to ballroom dancing.  My parents offered to sign my brother Tom and me up for ballroom dancing lessons at the New Haven Lawn Club when we were in our early teens, but I considered myself too cool to take advantage of the opportunity.  These days, I am one of the less cool dudes on the ballroom dance floor. The lessons that Annette and I took together in Keene just haven’t seemed to stick.

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