People often ask me, “Why do you keep going to Berlin? Why don’t you go somewhere else, for a change?”

First of all…..I have been a lot of other places. Paris….Vienna….Amsterdam…. Brussels…..Copenhagen….Tokyo….Manila….Saigon….Hong Kong….New York City….Chicago….San Francisco…..not to mention Topeka….Kansas City…..

Second…..I like Berlin. If I didn’t like it. If I didn’t find it to be fascinating. If I didn’t enjoy being there….. then I probably would not go back.

Actually, there are only two other cities that have held my fascination…..that had the magnetic pull…..of Berlin. Those two cities are Hong Kong and Saigon. And….under the right circumstances, I may have found myself drawn back to one of those cities over and over. But, if you are reading this….and if you have ever read a newspaper, you probably already know why those two are largely out of the picture now. How does a war and communism strike you as good reasons?

The first time I went to Berlin was in 1995. I went to Germany to visit my first exchange student, Sebastian Holzhausen. We had planned an automobile trip through much of Europe. Berlin was the first stop on our tour. So, I suppose one might say that my first trip to Berlin was sort of a lucky coincidence. I had very little to say about planning the itinerary of the trip. In fact, now that I think about it…..I had absolutely no input whatsoever. Sebastian never asked for my advice…..I just got into the car and went wherever he drove. And, from Sebastian’s viewpoint…. Why should he consult me? I had never been to Europe before. I knew nothing about it. On the other hand, I have a feeling that we more or less simply retraced the route of some of his former summer vacations with his parents.

My first recollection of Berlin….. my introduction to the city…..was the long drive down Kurfurstendamm…..the long, fashionable avenue that traverses most of the western part of Berlin from west to east….. At the time, I had no idea I was driving down probably the most famous avenue in Berlin, if not all of Germany. In fact, I sat wordlessly….nervously….hoping that Sebastian knew where he was going….and didn’t get us hopelessly lost. Sebastian was nervous, too. I could sense it. I wasn’t about to ask him any questions…..about anything. I simply kept quiet….and let him drive.

He did a masterful job of locating the place that would be our home for the next three night…..a youth hostel. This was a long shot from staying at the Kempinski….or the Berlin Hilton….but it was cheap. And, at the time, that is what was important. It was clean, too…. We were sharing the room with probably eight or ten other guys. But, the only time we spent at the hostel was at night when it was time to go to bed.

During that first time I spent in Berlin….those three days….I never had a clue where we were. It seemed to me that we were in one of the eastern suburbs….far removed from any action that might be taking place. I was not able to establish any “bookmarks”….or any reference points….or landmarks. We traveled by subway everywhere we went…and I mean everywhere. The only “landmark” that I truly recognized was the subway station where we got on the subway each morning…..and got off again at night. I had no idea where the subway station was located….not a clue where it was located in Berlin….no chance of ever finding it by myself.

Riding on the subway is a truly disorienting experience. After a person enters the tunnel, life just sort of ends. We sat there, often sandwiched between myriad other riders, staring out the window into darkness as the train lurched to a start….sped along its route….and lurched to a stop. I am not even sure we were speeding along. It is difficult to know such a thing while staring at darkness….. What direction are we going? Who knows? It could be any direction….. It all looks the same. No landmarks, no street signs…..

For me….that was a major problem. I was born and raised in Kansas. Everything is laid out in grids….one mile square. The sun comes up in the east….and it sets in the west. In order to find a location…. I must go one mile east, two miles north….etc. Or three blocks south, two blocks west…… That is just how we do it. That is what we have learned since we were born. It is the only logical method. In Berlin….probably in all of Germany…..maybe all of Europe…..nobody knows where north…south…east….west are. And….nobody really cares. They give me blank stares when I ask which direction is north. Why would anybody want to know that? What difference does it make?

I was rather fortunate, though. The sun shone almost the entire time I was there. I was able to establish my bearing by using the sun…..the same good old sun that shines in Kansas. Yeah….I am a real astronomer! A real Boy Scout.

During the first three days I spent in Berlin…..I had no idea where I was….at any hour of the day or night. I was very similar to a little puppy….just following somebody around. And, because of my disorientation from riding on the subway….going down into a tunnel….and coming out of another tunnel somewhere else….I never gained any sense of where I was. Did we go north? Or South? Or East? Or West? It was rather like going into a time-tunnel…..and always coming out in a strange…but often exotic….place. It was like little individual pieces of a puzzle…..a puzzle that had not been put together yet. Random paragraphs waiting to be re-arranged into a coherent story.

Very clear in my memory is the Kaiser Wilhelm Memorial Church. Somehow I knew this must be a central point in Berlin. We walked down Potsdamer Str….the street just one block from the hostel we were staying in. In my mind, I had pictured this as being in an extreme eastern suburb of Berlin. We walked through the Tiergarden and then up the Avenue of the 17th of June…..viewing the Victory Tower in the distance. I again realized that we were back in the “civilized” part of Berlin.

As we walked along the Avenue of the 17th of June, I told Sebastian that there was a definite “Berlin Look”…..or “German Look”. He looked at me like I had perhaps lost my marbles….. I saw it then. I swear I did. It was in their eyes….. Today, for some peculiar reason, I no longer see it. I don’t know….. Maybe on that particular day, all the people we met were of some foreign origin. I doubt it. I am sure it was all part of my imagination. Maybe a slight sense of paranoia…. And, I can only imagine what they must have thought when they saw me…..if they even noticed me…..which they probably didn’t.

The only permanent damage which was caused by the constant riding in the subway was at Checkpoint Charlie. We visited Checkpoint Charlie late one afternoon. It was raining….so the sky was heavily overcast. Of course, there was no sun. No sun to help me adjust my directions…..to activate my mental compass. We stepped out of the subway tunnel somewhere…..and I did not have a clue where…..to a rainy, cloudy sky. And, as fortune would have it…..I was disoriented. My directions were messed up. In fact, they were 90 degrees off. This, I would find out later.

My brain works strangely. Well, I think it does. I have never really conducted an exhaustive study of other people’s brains….. But, once directions are implanted and stamped on my brain, they stay that way forever…..regardless of the sun…or the moon…or the stars….or anything else. This was, I am pretty sure, the only case of serious directional disorientation I have in Berlin

I lived in Phan Rang, South Vietnam, for almost a year. The sun came up in the west….and it set in the east! Every day. For one year. The South China Sea borders Vietnam on the east…..and Phan Rang is basically a coastal town. Every time I went to the beach…which was fairly often….I drove to the west. But, the day I arrived in Phan Rang, it was raining; the skies were overcast….just like the day we visited Checkpoint Charlie. The direction were burned into my mind….permanently. They ever changed.

The trip to Europe…..to Germany, specifically….and even more specifically, to Berlin….was a good introduction. Sort of Berlin 101. And, I think I passed the class with high honors. I went from having almost Zero control to having almost 90 percent control in all the subsequent visits.

One factor I changed immediately….and permanently….was to stop riding in subways and to start taking a bus to almost everywhere we went. I go to Berlin to see and experience the city. I like to constantly play “tourist” and gaze wide-eyed at the buildings, at the people, at the traffic, at the signs, at the monuments, at the parks…at the history of the city. I do not go to Berlin to stare into the darkness….into nothingness….into a state of suspended animation. I want to feel oriented. I watch the landmarks, the street signs. I become familiar with the flow of the city….pay attention to the directions….the relationships…..

After disembarking from a subway, I climb the stairs (or hopefully take an elevator or escalator) into a strange world of unfamiliar sights…..not knowing where I came from….or where I am….nothing to orient myself to a location or a neighborhood….nothing to tell me we have traveled north…or south….or east….or west.
Yeah…..I am fully aware that most German don’t care. They do not have a clue about directions….and it probably never occurred to them to be curious about it. Since most of them live in cities….cities that are never….never….laid out in “blocks”….little things like directions just are not important to them. But….I come from Kansas….a part of the Louisiana Purchase where the land was….and still is….laid out in block. Square miles; square blocks. And…..for the most part, Berliners are scurrying around too much to take the time to look up at the sky.

One of the few factors that I usually do not…and have not….had much control over is where we have stayed while I was in Berlin…..our living quarters…..where we slept at night….

Living spaces must be rented in advance of the time I arrive in Berlin. In some case, a few weeks. And…..in some cases…..especially in recent times, it has often been a rather stressful undertaking. Many landlords do not want to rent an apartment for only one month….IF they can rent it for….let’s say…..three months or six months. They will often wait until the last minute to make a decision….and tell me of their decision. And, all of this is done remotely……by e-mail…..a very impersonal….an easy way for a landlord to say, “No.”

More than likely, however, I ask one of my former German students to help with the arrangements. None of them live in Berlin. So, they, too, are more or less dealing remotely with the landlord….or more likely….a rental agency. Although, they are in the same boat as I am in when it comes to knowing exactly what the apartment is like, at least they can communicate by telephone…..in German…..and ask a lot of necessary questions. Questions like…. Where IS the apartment? Is it close to a bus route that ends at the Zoo Station? Is there an elevator in the apartment building? Is there really a couch that converts into a bed? Is there Internet access? ALL of these are nonnegotiable requirements. The lack of just ONE of them can ruin the deal.

Usually rental agencies are fairly honest in answering these questions. If they don’t rent the apartment to me…..they will soon rent it to somebody else, with fewer demands. In return, they usually have concerns of their own. The first among these concerns is their fee! That is paid up front…..before any names or definite addresses are given out. And, that is something that my German students have always been kind enough….considerate enough….to pay. Then, there are other obvious questions: (1) Any pets? “Yes, I am bringing my pet pig with me.” I have always found this to be a curious question to ask a foreigner. Pets must be quarantined for a period of time before they are released to infect the public with dreaded diseases. (2) Does anybody smoke? Well, I can understand this questions. I wouldn’t want anybody to smoke in my house, either. (3) Any small children? Well… only if I bring my three wives with me.

The BIG question, however, is money. This is usually a matter to be taken up with the person who owns the apartment, however. After the agency receives their commission, they are not very concerned with what happens after that. Here, again…..my wonderful German students have come to my rescue. They fork over the rent money….and I pay them back when I arrive. Fortunately, they trust me. At least, a little bit.

There has been only one time that paying for the rent was a problem. I do not remember why it was not dealt with in the usual manner….being paid by one of the Germans….and then ME paying them. But, I DO remember all the problems it caused. After inquiring if I could transfer the money electronically to the landlord’s account in Germany…..and finding out my bank did not have a clue how to do it, they suggested that they raise the daily limit on my debit card so I could simply withdraw the money from my account when I reached Berlin. The people at my bank had assured me they had changed the daily limit on my debit card to “unlimited” for the three weeks I would be in Berlin. “No problem,” they said.

You may be getting ahead of me at this point….. But, Yes! There was a problem. The first ATM that I tried refused to let me withdraw the money. “Oh, well,” I concluded, “This ATM perhaps does not accept foreign debit cards.” So, we found another ATM. Same thing. But….it would let me withdraw a much lesser amount. “Oh, so they didn’t change the amount,” I surmised. It was 10:00 in the morning…..3:00 A. M. back in Kansas. I felt a mild sense of panic. I had to pay the landlord in less than an hour. All I could do was hope for his understanding……and mercy.

Fortunately, he accepted the “down payment”, and said that I could pay the remainder of the rent when I was able to get the money from the ATM. There was no point worrying about it. My German student graciously agreed to loan me some money until I could call my bank and get the situation straightened out. That wouldn’t happen for at least seven hours, though….. 5:00 P.M. German time. We were very frugal in our spending that day. At 5:00 P.M. I called the bank on Skype. “Oh,” they insisted, “we changed your limit. You should be able to withdraw as much money as you want.”

“OK….Can you please change it again?” I asked.

The bottom line is…..I was never able to withdraw more than my normal daily limit. I gave up trying. I simply paid the guy in three payments, instead of one payment….like it should have been….like they told me it would be. The landlord was very nice and patient….very much like many Germans. Maybe it is my honest face. Or maybe he had secret agents watching my every move….ready to snatch me up if I tried to escape without paying.

I learned a lesson. Use Western Union. Take enough cash to pay the bill. Prevail on one of my Germans to pay the rent until I can reimburse them. Or….change banks.

On my early trips to Berlin, I was at the complete mercy of my German students. I still am, to some extent. On the first several trips I made to Berlin, I had no clue where we would be staying until we pulled up in front of it in a taxi. And, even then, I wasn’t sure which building it was….or which door to enter….until somebody told me.

For the first ten years we stayed in hotels…..or in one case, a hostel. For the first several years most of the trips I took to Berlin were “quickies”…..a trip over spring break or for a few days during parent-teacher conferences….or whenever I could get a few days away from school. Somebody…..usually Sebastian or Frank….arranged for a hotel room. As I look back on those days, I chuckle when I think of some of the places they chose….sight unseen, I am sure.

On two different occasions we stayed in a hotel on Kaiser Fredrick Str., about a block south of Kantstr and a block north of the Charlottenburg Train Station. It was a nondescript building. The hotel was on the second floor….no elevator, of course. It had two beds, a shower, a couple chairs. The maids came in each day and made the bed, tidied up the place….so when we returned to the room at night, it was in relatively good shape. It certainly was not a 5-Star hotel. It wasn’t even a 1-Star hotel. In fact, I doubt if it was even a 0-Star hotel. But, it was an inexpensive….no, let’s make that cheap….place to live, and we were basically satisfied.

In order to get to the bus that would take us to the Zoo Station, we had to walk a block north to KantStr., a major east-west thoroughfare in the western part of Berlin. We recognized immediately that it was an annoying walk. The block was lined with all sorts and descriptions of sex shops, strip shows, and girlie bars. That, in itself, was not so unusual. Berlin is infinitely more liberal and tolerant that the USA….let alone Kansas…..ever could be, even in one’s wildest fantasy. The thing that was so irritating was that there were people….mostly men….stationed outside each of these establishments…..employees…..who would zealously attempt to entice passers-by into their little place of business….especially males. This was aggravating, but nothing I could not deal with. Actually, I am rather adept at ignoring people and things. They crossed the line…big time….when they started to reach out and grab my arm or shoulder. That is when my anger kicked in….again, big time.

This seems to be a common “sales” technique along that street. If they can’t persuade you by their sales pitch…..they will attempt to “guide” you into their place of business. I tried to be polite the first couple time…..and simply said, “No….” and jerked by arm away from them. But, being polite did not get the job done! I reverted to the role of the “Ugly American”…..and slapped their hand and said rather forcefully, “Take your hands off me.” Well….I may have used a couple extra adjectives to describe their hands….but, at least, they quickly released their grip…..

In those early days, I admit it: I was naive and innocent. In fact, we….actually I am talking about Sebastian….booked us into that hotel on two different occasions….in two different years. Like I said, the hotel was far from being luxurious…..but it was inexpensive…..and it had everything we needed. It wasn’t until a few years later, while I was reading through a couple of the Berlin guidebooks, that I discovered, much to my astonishment…..although I don’t know why I should have been astonished…..that this hotel was located in the heart of one of Berlin’s several “red light” districts.

Somehow I simply never put the pieces of the puzzle together. To begin with…..this was back in the days when I was still working. My visit were pretty short. I let Sebastian or Frank have complete control over where we stayed. Also…..I think we were so busy that I just didn’t worry about where we were staying…..just as long as we had a place to stay.

On the bright side….at least, I suppose it may be the bright side…. None of the sidewalk hustlers ever succeeded in dragging us inside one of their apparently thriving establishments. Some years later, as I was looking through a Berlin guide, a description of this exact street sort of jumped out at me. Kaiser Fredrerich Str…..Kant Str…..Charlottenburg Station….. Wow….that was the exact spot where our hotel was located. That was one of those “Ah-Ha” moments….when a light suddenly comes on in the brain….when the fuzzy becomes focused…… We were encamped in the very center of a Red Light District…. I think this became one of those “What you don’t know won’t hurt you” sort of realizations. We never stayed there again. And, now I also know why there were so many sleezy “hotels” located on that block!

Equally interesting was the apartment where we stayed in 2008-2009. This again demonstrates the danger….maybe uncertainty is a better word…..of renting an apartment over the Internet….sight unseen. If it met the basic criteria….bus line, elevator, two sleeping spaces, price….no other information was considered. Because no other information was available. When we searched the online web sites advertising short term apartments, this particularly apartment appeared to be imminently acceptable from my viewpoint. One of my Germans called the company to complete the arrangements for renting it for four weeks. Beryl is happy. Job done….case closed.

A few days later, I was doing some research on the area of Berlin where the apartment was located…..trying to get an idea of what was available in the immediate area. Things like restaurants, bars, grocery stores….. All of these amenities are important because they make our stay easier and less stressful. I was pleased to find that all of these conveniences were readily available. But….I was not very pleased when my eye caught another interesting fact: Our apartment was located in the center of one of Berlin’s most important Gay Districts!

Needless to say, I was not pleased with this bit of information. I began to read the names of some the bars in the area….within a two block radius. If I had paid attention to the names in the first place, I probably would not have been so surprised. I do not remember the names of them now…but they were descriptive enough….and suggestive enough….that a light in my brain should have clicked on immediately. Sometimes something has to hit me in the head like a hammer before I wake up, though.

Of course, by this time, it was too late to make any changes….to “un-rent” the apartment and start the search again. I called Frank and told him….warned him….of the situation. He found the situation to be quite amusing….much more amusing than I did. In fact, I thought he would never stop laughing. At least, he wasn’t upset….which was good, because he was in charge of making the arrangement to pay the rental fee, get the key, and set up a time to meet the owners so we could move in.

That was a year that a lot of things did not work out well….. The airplane I was on arrived late in Amsterdam. Too late to catch my scheduled flight to Berlin at 9:00 A.M.   The next available flight did not leave until late in the afternoon. Frank was already in Berlin when I reached him. Fortunately his parents’ home is less than an hour from Berlin, so he was able to go there for the day. The day I arrived….December 27….found Berlin in the coldest winter in about 50 or 60 years. That certainly was not very pleasant…..

Nevertheless, two men met us at the apartment at the appointed time….each of them wearing a wedding ring. But, the transaction was very professional and impersonal….as I settled into my new home for the next four weeks. Oh yes….one more bad thing. As a surprise, Frank had obtained two tickets to attend the Berlin Symphony Orchestra that night so we could enjoy a performance of Beethoven’s Symphony Number 9. Fortunately, he was able to exchange them for tickets the following night.

Normally we like to patronize bars and restaurants in the neighborhood where we live. At night, it just makes sense to patronize a bar or restaurant that is close to our apartment because we do not have to be concerned with finding transportation in the late night or early morning hours. After a certain hour, only select buses and trams operate….and even they are on a severely curtailed schedule. A couple times found ourselves standing at a bus stop for over an hour in the early hours of the morning waiting….and hoping….a bus will show up as scheduled. Finding a bar within close walking distance takes the uncertainty out of late night transportation and makes the evenings much more pleasant and stress free.

We have found that Berlin’s bars are no different from most bars almost anywhere in the USA. They like it when customers return night after night. Not only do they look at this as a dependable source of business….but, I suppose in a way, it is also flattering to them. It tells them that they must be doing something right. Usually after going to the same bar for two consecutive nights….and ordering the same drink….the waiter will automatically nod at us when we enter on the third night…..and almost immediately our drinks will magically appear. So….not only are the waiters pleased and flattered….so are we at being recognized and receiving good service.

However, during this particular visit, I think that we were not only hesitant to go into the neighborhood bars….but we also may have been just a little scared. After looking at some of the graphic pictures on the doors and windows of the bars….and after reading some of the admittance requirements….we were pretty much intimidated. Besides, we would have never met the “dress code” most of them imposed! We were also put off after observing the people who did enter the bars. Somehow, they just did not appear to be “our type of people”. We were not snobs…..just cautiously discriminating.

It was a result of this situation that forced as to look elsewhere for our nightly spot of rest and relaxation. We found it in the form of a neat little jazz club down in the Kruetzburg section of Berlin. It was a small, cozy club with not much interior seating, especially during the hours of the live performances. But, we were just as happy to be tucked away in the “back room” where the music wasn’t so deafeningly loud.

What it lacked in professional talent, it made up for in charm. There was a main room where a small stage was located….and where the entertainers performed. On the nights when there were no live performances, it was relatively empty in the early evening hours, and it was easy to find a table. But, on nights when musicians were performing, it was packed….and unless a person got there very early….maybe late-afternoon….it was impossible to find a place to sit. We never showed up in the afternoon, so I really don’t know. On those nights, however, we sat in the back room. Actually, this was probably the most desirable place to sit. As I said, the music was deafening…..but the Germans didn’t mind. They were an enthusiastic audience….cheering wildly at the end of each song. Who knows…. Maybe they were already drunk when they arrived.

Jazz…and Blues….simply are not German music. And, it was no doubt for the best! Actually, the music was terrible….far below the quality we would expect as an American audience, especially an audience of jazz lovers or blues aficionados Otherwise these musicians would probably have been performing somewhere in the USA. But, never mind all that. The Germans didn’t know any better; they loved it…..and I think I can safely say that the entire audience was German…..and the music and the raucous noise created an exciting and vibrant ambiance for the evening…..especially from the toned-down decibels which reached the back room.

This became a nightly destination of choice for that trip….and also for subsequent trips….especially when there were no neighborhood bars where we could hang out. The only two drawback to this night club were the distance from Central Berlin….and the need to leave relatively early in order to make sure we could catch the last bus back to the main bus station. Well….there was one more disadvantage. The rest rooms were located in the main room…..and in order to reach them, it was necessary to strong arm a path through the crowd to reach them.

Stumbling on this jazz cafe was no doubt the highlight on this trip. My German students probably found the location of our apartment somewhat more amusing than I did. In fact, even though they had no desire to go into any of the clubs or bars, they took great delight in my discomfort and us-ease. Frank, especially, couldn’t resist taking pictures of the entryways which listed the dress codes….and the windows with all the bizarre graphics that were displayed. That is…. He took pictures until I demanded that he stop. Being unfamiliar with this sort of situation, I was not at all sure this was an acceptable thing to do. Yeah…. It was “interesting”….and even funny in its own peculiar way. But the last things I wanted was a public confrontation with a bunch of gay guys who may have been insulted by our curiosity.

As for Sebastian: Well, I think the most amusing part for him was the name of the street where our apartment building was located. It was called Fugger Strasse (Street). I have no idea what that means in German. But…..I suppose in English it does sound vaguely suspicious! Especially since it sounds suspiciously similar to a word in English that we usually do not use in polite conversation.

The other apartments we stayed in over the years were not located in such exotic neighborhoods. One things I can say for sure: We never stayed in an apartment or in a hotel room that was truly comfortable. And, we never stayed in an apartment or in a hotel where the lighting even approached being adequate. If my vision had not been bad before I went there, I would certainly be justified in blaming my poor eyesight on the amount of light….the lack of light….in our rooms.

The first apartment where we actually lived in somebody else’s house was located in a northern neighborhood on Tschaikowski Str.….in a section called Pankow….one of those neighborhoods that is predominantly residential. It was also the only apartment that we had to actually walk through the owner’s living quarters to get to our rooms….and it was the only apartment where we shared the bathroom with the owners. It was also the only apartment where we had to walk up three or four flights of stairs. Needless to say, we did not do a lot of coming and going! It was the only apartment that did not have access of a city bus line. Instead, we had to ride a tram to Alexanderplatz….and then catch a bus downtown.

There was one neighborhood bar…..and a pizza place a couple blocks away, around a corner. The nightlife was not very lively, to say the least. And the trams stopped running at 10 or 11:00 at night. We spent a lot of time in the neighborhood bar. The easy accessibility was important. Here at home I can sit and watch TV….or mess around with the computer…..or listen to some music…..or read a book…. In Berlin all of the TV is in a foreign language for some reason! I think the language is German! Imagine that. As I said the light was too dim to even consider reading. Internet access is slow and restricted, in some cases. So, going out at night….sitting in a bar….is virtually the only means of entertainment.

Fortunately, every apartment we have stayed in has been in widely different locations and different environments. Each of them had its own unique attractions. The main attraction near the apartment in Pankow was the former home of the President of East Germany. It was a large mansion….a mansion by German standards, at least….set in the middle of a large plot of park-like land…..maybe occupying two square city blocks. It was surrounded by a rather high iron railing fence….attractive, but nevertheless intimidating. It is a public place today where people are free to wander around freely. But, I can imagine that during the years the Communists occupied East Germany, it was not quite so friendly.

The entire area where the apartment is located consists of older upscale homes. This neighborhood was the enclave where many of the top officials of the East Germany government lived during the Communist era. In fact….or so we were told…..several square blocks were closed off….restricted to the public…..during this period of time. The Communist government did not want the “common people” to see or even suspect the grand scale that these Communist officials were living. For the decades that the Communists were in control, the general population lived in poverty and were subjected to almost subsistence living. The contrast must have been quite striking….and it was important that government conceal their lavish standard of living for fear of a possible revolt of the people.

This was the one and only time that our apartment was located in a family home. We realized that our presence there was probably an inconvenience and maybe even a distraction, even though we went to great lengths to be as quiet and invisible as possible.

Another notable locale where we lived was in an apartment on Kaiserdamm in the near western suburbs of Berlin. Upon our arrival at the apartment, we were met by an elegantly dressed gentleman who owned the apartment. His attire would have easily gained him some pages in a men’s fashion magazine! The two or three times that we met him, he was dressed in a dinner jacket with an ascot or a kind of silk scarf around his neck….perfectly groomed. The first time, we merely assumed that we had interrupted an important business meeting….or perhaps a fancy social occasion. But, this seemed to to be his normal way of dressing…..his normal “uniform”. Of course, both Sebastian and I were too polite….or too chicken….to ask him about his stylish wardrobe. We also met his son on a couple occasions….and he was dressed in normal attire…..just like the rest of the world. And, he seemed like a perfectly normal young man. We never did figure out why his dad dressed to elegantly. Probably just because he wanted to.

The location of this apartment was memorable because this is perhaps one of the areas we had slighted during many of my visits to Berlin. It is also memorable because during our stay there, I became quite sick….sick enough that Frank called a doctor to our apartment. It was obvious that I had contacted a rather severe kidney problem…..and Frank and I were both starting to become quite concerned. A young doctor….a young female doctor…a young English-speaking doctor….arrived at our apartment….riding a bicycle…..quite soon after Frank placed the call. She quickly confirmed what I already suspected: I had a bad kidney infection. She have me some rather powerful…and potent….antibiotics.

She then engaged Frank in a rather serious…if not intense….conversation. Of course, I do not speak German, so I had no idea what they were talking about…..although I was pretty sure it was not about the weather. Actually, I was feeling badly….and I really didn’t care much what they were talking about. After a few minutes, Frank turned to me and said (and of course, since she spoke rather flawless English, she understood everything he was saying….), “She is worried about whether you are going to pay her or not.”

The thought of NOT paying her had never crossed my mind! Of course, I was going to pay her. She seemed quite relieved and happy when Frank counted out the money and handed it to her. Frank later told me that she said it was not at all uncommon for people….both foreigners and Germans…..to simply refuse to pay….or say they could not afford to pay. Either way, she was obligated to treat them. So….I like to think that she left our apartment with a rather positive attitude toward Americans. I had paid her willingly…..and had not been a “welfare case”. And, Yes…..I did recover!

The main attractions near this apartment were the close proximity of the Berlin Radio Tower, the German Broadcasting Corporation, the sprawling International Trade Center, the German Opera and Charlottenburg Palace. It seems that our exploration in Berlin usually centers around the locales in central and eastern Berlin. Maybe because they are all rather closely grouped together…..from back in the days when Berlin was actually a fairly small city.

Most people stand in line to ride the elevator to the top of the TV Tower….but not to ascend to the top of the shorter and much older radio tower. Or they prefer to spend time hanging out at the Riechstag Building….not a huge trade center. Bellvue Palace is much more convenient than Charlottenburg Palace….but not nearly as historic. The Berlin Opera House is older and is located on “history lane”, while the German Opera is a sleek modern building, but performs equally important works by equally famous composers.

These attractions, located within walking distance of our apartment, became important to me on those few days when I was left alone between visits from my former German students. I could easily wile away the hours by walking to one…or more….of these buildings….and not have to be bothered by taking the subway into central Berlin. As I have explained above, I avoided riding the subway…..and it was probably on the subway that I picked up the germs that led to the ill-fated….and very uncomfortable….and semi-expensive…..kidney infection.

Most of the apartments we rented were simply rented at random….because they were available and because the cost lay within our budget….and not because they were located close to a tourist attraction. In our good fortune, all of them have lay in substantially different neighborhoods of Berlin. While I do not pretend to be an expert on city living…..I mean! Look at me….I live in rural Ozawkie, Kansas!….I can well imagine that most cities are composed of a collection of neighborhoods which have their own feel and their own unique little “sub-cultures”. If this happens to be true….then Berlin certainly shares this characteristic.

Probably the only other apartment which had its own little set of tourist attractions was the apartment we rented in one of the near-north neighborhoods right off DanzigerStr. on LychenerStr. The apartment itself was probably one of the most miserable apartments we have ever stayed in. In the first place, we stepped into a pit of darkness….so dark that I doubt if an owl or a bat could have seen its way around. One of my camping lanterns provided more light than the feeble 15 watt bulbs gave out. But, in keeping with the traditional German spirit of thrift….or as I call it, penny-pinching….only the barest of essentials were provided. There literally was not a comfortable chair in the entire apartment…certainly not a chair with any form of padding…on the arms, the back or the seat! I am guessing they bought the furniture at a garage sale from some torture chamber that was going out of business. The sofa….if it could indeed be called a sofa….may have been an old castoff from a Victorian-style brothel somewhere in the city.

However, discounting how distressing the comfort of the apartment was, it was actually located in an active part of the city near a wide variety of restaurants and bars. One of our objectives on that visit was to eat our evening meal in a restaurant of a different nationality or ethnicity each night. Many nights we did not have to leave our neighborhood to accomplish this purpose. There were also a variety of late night and all-night bars where we could sit and talk and escape the misery of the dingy apartment. Actually, there were sufficient bars on our block to keep us occupied almost every night of my stay there. For me, it is comforting to have a place to go and sit at night and know that we are in a safe environment…..and not have to be concerned with bus schedules or waiting at deserted bus stops in the early hours of the morning. I would have to double check the statistics, but I would not at all be surprised to find that the city of Berlin, with a population of almost 4 million people, has fewer murders and assaults each year that Topeka, whose population is somewhere about one-fortieth that size. Having become accustomed to the crime rate in even rural Kansas, I am still uncomfortable standing outside in strange places in the middle of the night.

Within walking distance of our apartment was a major entertainment area and shopping center which had been formed from an old, sprawling, abandoned brewery. It was its own little protected venue, into which the only means of entry was accessed only through tall gateway arches in the walls that surrounded it. But…Alas. It was too expensive for our budget….except for the grocery store….so all we could do was look.

Also in the general vicinity….although a little longer walk….was the Berlin Wall Memorial. During the period we were there, it was in its early days of development and perhaps not quite so interesting as is may be today. Probably the major disappointment for me was the knowledge that this monument was not actually authentic. It was all reconstructed….a facsimile of the real thing. While I am sure this is true of a lot of the monuments, we had the misfortune of actually seeing it being reconstructed. Knowing the Germans, after the rebuilding process was complete, I am sure they went to great lengths to make it look “authentic”….to artificially “age” it….give it the mood, the appearance and flavor of the past. The Germans are good at this…. But, for me. If I see it again, it will probably look much different….and if I had not seen it in its formative stages, I would probably never question its authenticity. But now…. Beryl knows!

A lesser known, but yet well attended by tourists, is the Max Schmelling Hall….part of a huge sports park in the Prenzlauer Berg section of Berlin. The arena is named after a famous German boxer…..who was probably one of Germany’s most famous athletes. The arena was originally built as a boxing arena….What else?…. But, today it is used not only for sporting events….mainly basketball, I suppose…. but also for concerts and trade and industry expositions. When used for sporting events, the seating capacity is about 8,500, but when it is the venue for a concert, it will hold around 12,000 people. And, apparently is has hosted such artists as Madonna and Bob Dylan, but I suspect is used these days for more obscure German acts.

Another rather unhappy event that I associate with this apartment relates to a basketball game. The Kansas University Jayhawks had qualified to play in the Final Four that year. In fact, they had advanced to the championship game…. K. U. would be playing against Kentucky….the game that would determine the national champion. Sebastian and I both wanted to see the game in the worst possible way. After searching the Internet to find what sports bars were located in our general area, Sebastian started calling them to find out if they would be showing the game on a TV in their bar. Actually, it was not as difficult as we thought it might be to find a bar what said Yes, it would be playing on one of their TV sets. Great! The only problem: The game would begin at 8:00 Kansas time…..which was 3:00 A.M. in Germany. We had to ask ourselves the question: Is it worth staying up until 3:00 A.M. so we could see the game. Of course, the answer was a resounding YES!

I do not remember exactly what we did to occupy our time until that early hour of the morning…. We probably went bar hopping. But, shortly before 3 A.M. we took a taxi to the appointed bar. Sure enough…..they had ONE TV tuned to the big game. And….sure enough….Sebastian and I were the only ones watching the game. Somehow, I had expected more excitement….a more electric atmosphere. But, then I realized: Nobody in Germany cares about college basketball in the U.S.A…..no more than Americans care about their soccer leagues! And, that, I am sure you know….is Zero.

Sebastian and I sat huddled in our own little corner of the bar full of hope and anticipation. The game remained close for much of the first half. We clung to our faith in the Jayhawks. As the second half went forward, it became increasingly apparent that K. U. was not going to close the gap. They just did not have what it took to defeat Kentucky. In the end, Kentucky began to pull ahead by an even greater margin. Hope faded…. K. U. was dealt a decisive loss.

It was after 5:00 in the morning. We were several blocks from our apartment. We were tired….and somewhat disheartened. (That was back in the days when I actually cared!) All we wanted was to return to the apartment….and sleep. We began to ask ourselves….WHY had we done such a foolish thing? But, it all depends on the perception. IF K.U. had won the game, we would have been rejoicing. We probably would have gone to another bar to celebrate the victory. But, as it turned out….we took a taxi back to our apartment….fell into our beds…..and tired to forget it even happened.

A hotel that Frank arranged on one of my summer visits also holds some not-so-pleasant memories in the recesses of my mind. Located on a pleasant side street between Kurfurstendamm and Kant Str. was another of those hotels that at first glance looked wholly adequate….a small sitting area with a couple chair, a little kitchenette with the basic equipment, a small bedroom with a couple beds and a bathroom with a shower. Perfect! ……right? It was great for about 5 minutes….and then reality set in. We were startled by a deafening noise! Right outside the windows was the above ground portion of a subway line. The tracks were located about ten feet from our window…..and just like clockwork a train passed by about every ten or twelve minutes….rattling the windows, rattling the furniture…..and definitely rattling us! Traffic on that particular line started about 6:30 in the morning and continued on schedule….never ceasing….until around midnight. For the sake of our sanity, we had no alternative but to get up early in the morning…..and come home late at night.

Fortunately, there were a couple bars located within a few feet from the entrance to the apartment. It was summertime, and most, if not all, of our evenings were spent sitting at the sidewalk tables of one of these bars. Frank had mentioned that one of the bars was owned by a famous German athlete….somebody whom I didn’t know, of course….or had never heard of. He said he had heard that it was sometimes a hangout for the owner-athlete and some of his big time professional buddies. It was sort of exciting to be sitting in a bar which was perhaps owned by the German equivalent of Michael Jordan or Eli Manning. At any rate, it got us away from the brain-numbing sound of the subway train. Berlin summers are usually quite agreeable, so it was a good place to be.

One night as we were sitting there talking and drinking beer, Frank suddenly gasp! I was rather startled. What was the problem? Had he suddenly become ill? Had he just remembered something important that he had forgotten to do?

“What’s the problem?” I asked.

Frank was gesturing toward a nearby table….almost too excited to talk. I discreetly glanced in that direction….but all I saw were some people sitting there drinking beer and talking…..just like Frank I were doing. “See who it is,” Frank said excitedly.

Well…. It was definitely nobody that I recognized…. “It’s John Doe,” Frank said with utter disbelief. “Don’t you know him? Everybody knows him.” Well….probably everybody in German….but not me! (And, by the way, John Doe is not his real name. I have long since forgotten who the guy is.)

“He’s one of the most famous actors in Germany,” Frank explained. “Everybody knows him.” I looked him up on the Internet, and sure enough…. He is a very famous German actor.

It was probably like me looking up and seeing Cary Grant….or Clark Gable….or Humphrey Bogart….sitting next to me at the Golden Corral. Yeah…You probably don’t know those actors either…. But remember, I am old!

I urged Frank to go ask for his autograph….but I guess they don’t do stuff like that in Germany. It certainly was not because Frank is too shy. Frank didn’t go ask for an autograph…..but he could hardly keep his eyes off the guy for the rest of the evening. And me? I would not have recognized the guy again, even if my life depended on it. But, I can honestly say….. I have seen one of Germany’s most famous actors.

Yep…. I have seen a famous German actor…even though I don’t know his name. And, I have also seen much of the wide array of Berlin life as it is reflected through the diversity of its assortment of discrete neighborhoods. Berlin is much like a patchwork quilt with its separate little enclaves loosely stitched together into a harmonious and colorful pattern. In a way it is also similar to a tasty soup in which all the ingredients form an exotic and engaging mixture that blend together….and leave a delightful and pleasing taste that leaves me going back for more.