Home in Berlin?

We visit this city three of four times each year. Sabine’s brother Max lives here, with his fiancée Constanze and his son Paul. Wonderful people, we love to visit. Max and I share a motorbike, a red BMW 650. Whenever I am in Berlin, I get to ride it.

“Berlin ist so eine kaputte Stadt,” Sabine commented when we talked about settling down here, “Berlin is such a broken city.” It is a big city, noisy, busy, intense. No green hills, no porches, no mountain view. But plenty of apple pie. And lots of sweet, interesting people. There are the people we know, like brother Max, Constanze, Paul and Carola. Carola is a dear friend of Sabine and of mine. She and I were involved some years ago. Somehow, Carola is a part of my/our quest to find this Place to Die. It is easy to meet interesting people in Berlin. There is a large student community, lots of Berliners living in communities, many artists. You meet them in coffee shops, workshops, galleries and cinemas. Berlin has wide avenues and huge monuments, but there are also many cosy streets with small shops, restaurants, cafés and boutiques. It is easy to start a conversation, in German or in English.

This weekend, Sabine led a seminar in Neuköln, a multicultural neighborhood. In this part of town, Turkish people mix with Eastern Europeans, poor Berliner, artists and students. The busy streets feature Lidl supermarkets, Zeeman textile supers and kebab snackbars. The streets are full, bustling with vitality and energy. Many broken people, lonely people, crazy people and junkies, too. The workshop takes place in a large building, situated behind an inner court. There is no shower, so we ask if we can use the shower across the hallway. It is situated in a living community, a Wohngemeinschaft or WG, where 11 young people live together. They let us use their shower, do not want any money for it, and they are sooo sweet. We have little chats with them, about what they do and about our workshop – they are genuinely interested in what we do across their hall. As we leave after the weekend, we let them have our surplus food, which they gracefully accept.

Berlin could well be a Good Place To Die. It has atmosphere, a good climate – snow in winter, sun in summer – cheap lodging and great food at relatively low prices. German food is a well kept secret. It offers a wide variety, of superb quality, at reasonable prices. In Berlin, it is easy to find wonderful breads, tasty cheeses, all kinds of sausage, butter and ham and great pastry. Germans love to eat – a lot - and to talk about food – a lot. In Berlin, it’s not difficult to find good delicatessen, coffee or cheap restaurants. France and Italy have the reputation, but Germany also delivers.

But I like Berlin mainly because of its people. The Berliner (who smile at Kennedy's "Ich bin ein Berliner" because a Berliner is a sweet roll with yellow pudding) are a resilient race. This broken city has gone through so much: the grandeur of the emperors, the wars of the 19th and 20th centuries, the outrageous 1920's, the devastating 30's, the megalomania of the nazi's, the destruction and the resurrection after WWII, the status aparte from 1945 till 1990. The Berliner have lived and died through it all. To me personally, Berliner are people like Max, Constanze, Carola and the WG people. And 23 year old Tabea, who waits at our table Sunday night, and who offers us free Schnapps and a large piece of her mind. Open, free and frech… That's Berlin.

So yes, this may be a broken town with broken people, but it has lots of life, heart and compassion. And I have a motorbike in Berlin.