In nearly 20 years of working in Central and Eastern Europe, the one place where I personally see the before-and-after picture of the transition’s impact is the one where I never worked: Berlin. I was there as a student when the fall of the Wall was hardly imaginable. On the west side, we lived with Berliners (not the jelly donuts), attended classes, shopped on the brightly lit Ku’damm, and enjoyed Oktoberfest revelry.
When we went to the East, we were accompanied by someone even a naïve student could tell was a Party minder. We blasted Springsteen’s “Born in USA” on the bus stereo while our passports were checked. We visited a kindergarten and were amused by the socialist tune the five-year-olds marched around singing for us—and amused even more at the minder’s mystified disappointment in our lack of admiration for the theme. We were obliged to change hard currency for the worthless East German Mark and to spend it or lose it, since we couldn’t take it back out with us, so we went to the local bookstore and stocked up on great comics like Lenin’s “Left-Wing Childishness and the Petty Bourgeoisie Mentality.” Even the East German border guard couldn’t keep a straight face when he checked our bags.
But beneath our youthful irreverence we were also sobered by what we saw in the east and its stark contrast just a few hundred yards away. My lasting impression is one of grayness—gray buildings still bombed out from WWII, more gray buildings with propaganda banners waving from them, dingy streets with no lights or flower boxes or other decoration, and a people in sync with their environs, trudging and not very lively. I don’t think we felt a sense of impending implosion so much as a sense of fatalistic acceptance.
Flash forward a few years, and as the wall began to crack, I was in the States, wishing to be back in Germany to experience what I knew was tremendously historically important. Heading out to the local small town burger joint, I noticed that the sense of import and joy had infected every corner as people were riveted to the news on the TV screen. And then one local patron stood on a stool and gave the most eloquent toast to democracy I’ve ever heard. Half a world away, it was still a moving time that transcended place.
Where were you?
Published Date: November 09, 2009