Both cities I visited in Germany had the privilege of hosting the Olympic games, Berlin in 1936 and Munich in 1972, and both occasions are remembered for their dramatic events and circumstances. The Hitler Games in 1936 were particularly controversial as only members of the Aryan race were permitted to compete for Germany. However, despite this glaring indication that Nazi Germany was heading down a dangerous path, other countries looked the other way, a feat made easier because the Nazi party removed their slanderous signs including those stating “Jews not wanted.” The Olympic Stadium itself contained Roman elements as Hitler aspired to lead a nation similar to that of Ancient Rome; however, most decorative aspects prevalent in Roman architecture were removed leaving behind square columns and clean, flat surfaces. With the rest of the world in Germany in 1936, there was an opportunity for anyone to recognize the signs of what was to come. There was the “cleaning up” of the gypsies as they were sent to camps. There was the no-Aryan rule. There were remnants of the discriminatory practice against the Jews. In an event meant to symbolize nations coming together to compete on the highest and fairest of stages, the German activities of the times did not embody those sentiments.
The Munich games 36 years later also had their share of turmoil. Known as the Munich Massacre, a tragic event involving the taking hostage and murder of 11 Israeli athletes by Palestinian gunmen overshadowed the games. During an Olympics designed to move forward from what had transpired during the Hitler games, this event achieved much of the opposite effect and continued to tarnish the German Olympic-hosting legacy.
While in Berlin, I venture out of the city and visit another concentration camp, Sachsenhausen. This time, despite being prepared for what to expect and what to feel, the experience was still equally chilling and disturbing. The camp, which was used for mostly political prisoners, had a similar structure and daily routine to that in Dachau, but the simple idea that this concentration camp model was repeated and spread throughout Germany and Eastern Europe is powerfully frightening in itself. The systematic nature of the Nazi regime in everything they accomplished from their rise to power to their execution of their enemies makes me think of them as more robotic than human.
As I have been visiting these many cities, my pace is usually quick and my energy high, but I find that when I stepped through the gates of these two concentration camps, my pace slowed considerably as I struggled to comprehend everything that had occurred on the ground below my feet only 70 years ago.
Potsdam is a small town not far from Berlin and easily accessible by train. Its palatial landscape can be attributed to Frederick II the Great, who lived form 1712 to 1786. Sanssouci, Freddy’s summer palace was intended to rival Versailles when originally built. It was built to encourage relaxation and while visiting, I can understand why. The gardens are far reaching complete with fountains and flowers, and the rooms are more than elaborate. A style very popular with Freddy the Great known as Rococo can be seen throughout this castle as well as the others buildings scattered around the park. Before the afternoon is over, I am able to visit four palaces, get trapped in the rain once, and stop several times for snacks. The combination of the natural green with the grandeur of the castles suggests fairytales, and when it occasionally rains, I feel like that tale is reaching its dramatic climax where good must fight evil eventually culminating in the “good guys” living happily ever after.
Both the Jewish Museum and the Holocaust Memorial in Berlin make an architectural statement equally strong to its exhibits. The Jewish Museum, designed by architect Daniel Libeskind, starts on the bottom floor as a series of zigzagging hallways. These hallways then help to divide the museum into three areas– Continuity with Germany history, Emigration from Germany, and the Holocaust. This is all compounded by the empty spaces, irregular windows, and interactive exhibits. Although I am clearly biased, the Jewish Museum or Jüdisches Museum is a highlight of my Berlin experience and I recommend Jews and non-Jews alike to go at least for a quick look.
Designed by another great architect, Peter Eisenman, the Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe (the Holocaust Memorial) sits on a 5-acre site and consists of thousands of concrete slabs. These slabs of varying heights are arranged on a rolling landscape in a grid-like pattern. Eisenman leaves the interpretation of these slabs to the viewer, and not having one “correct” interpretation of the memorial forces individuals such as myself to stop and think for much longer what each slab may symbolize. The site may represent a cemetery or maybe train cars used to carry the Jews. The disorientation of the slabs may reflect the feelings of Jews during the time of the Nazis. In addition, there is little signage indicating the purpose of this site or even that it is a memorial. The subtly of the memorial just like its openness to interpretation add to its value and to its uniqueness. Finally, below the memorial is a small museum discussing the stories of specific individuals and families that suffered during the time of the Nazis. Individualizing the Holocaust is a saddening experience because I start to learn how real families suffered. That said, personalizing the Holocaust is effective when trying to explain the atrocities committed under Nazi Germany.
Soon after arriving in Berlin, I realize that I would like to walk up to the top of the glass dome above the Reichstag. The Reichstag is Germany’s parliament building that was burned down in 1933 and rebuilt. The idea of the glass dome is that the German government is supposed to be transparent and when the parliament looks up at the ceiling, they can see the citizens of their country walking above them. Unfortunately, it is probably more often that they see citizens from everywhere else walking the spiral ramp around the dome.
I go to visit this popular Berlin landmark and am turned away because the Reichstag is currently under a terrorist threat. They allow people to visit by reservation only, and reservations can only be made online. Back at the hostel, I try to make an online reservation; however, inconveniently, the english translation of the website does not have the required page. Therefore, with the help of the hostel staff, I navigate the german site and eventually sign up for a time slot. I feel that the challenge involved in seeing this site only made it more desirable for me to try and go, but I am not entirely ready to admit that.
On the day of my reservation, I venture back to the Reichstag, go through the necessary metal detectors and scanners and eventually find myself at the base of the dome. There is a great audio tour that recognizes where I am standing and lets me know what I am seeing when I look out over the city. And when I look downwards, I can see Parliament working below. In addition, the architecture of the dome is as impressive as its views. There is even a shade that rotates with the sun to ensure that Parliament is never faced with unwanted glare. The day is relatively clear, the dome uncrowded because of the hurdles required to visit, and the Berlin cityscape shines from this high perspective.
Berlin’s art, music, museum collections, and memorials all sum together to create an atmosphere that includes something for everyone. Although there is much I could mention on this topic, I will describe one encounter I have with said culture on a night I decide to go to a nearby jazz club.
This contemporary jazz club, B Flat, located not far from my hostel, received good online reviews and I figure while in a city that offers so much entertainment, I should at least try to take advantage. I arrive at the club shortly before the performers begin, I find a close seat so that I can watch the pianists fingers on the keys, I order a cold beer, and I watch the sky outside move from dusk to dark. The music begins. It is hard to find a beat to tap my foot to, but I search for it anyway. Nonetheless, I am impressed by the modernity of the song’s introduction. One minute passes, and I start to feel that the introduction is a bit long. Two minutes pass, and I begin to realize that this is an entire introductory song and not just a couple notes. Five minutes pass, and I think to myself this song is a bit long for what it is. Fifteen minutes pass, and I notice that the temperature in the bar is a bit warm. Thirty minutes pass, and the musicians are still on their first song. I am still looking for a beat for my foot. The pianist enjoys standing up and occasionally scraping the strings in the piano with various tools he has brought along. The trumpeter continues to make seemingly unmelodious and untraditional sounds escape from his instrument. Sixty minutes pass, and I still feel that they are on the same song because there has not yet been a break for the audience to applaud. Finally, 80 minutes pass, and the musicians begin a ten minute finale.
I walk back to my hostel trying to find news ways to appreciate what I have just witnessed. This is when I realize that even if the music was not completely my exact genre of choice, this experience still proves the creativity and openness of the Berlin music scene. From these performances all the way to Las Vegas style shows, Berlin has an expansive repertoire of evening entertainment, which is just one of many of the city’s attractive traits.
Berlin is a very livable city, and by this, I mean there is so much to see and do for both locals and tourists, that it seems it would never become dull. If something one day brings me to Berlin for an extended period of time, I will not complain. Its full history, albeit very controversial at times, has created a city complete with a diverse cultural scene, a young vibe, and a population proud to call themselves Berliners.
My first day running around the city, I start at the famous Brandenburg Gate and stroll my way down Unter den Linden. I quickly run into Tim and Adam, two friends I met in Munich who had been staying in the hostel next door. We continue onwards to the city park as we all enjoyed our afternoons. Basing myself at the Wombats Hostel in Berlin, I had easy access to the subway, which in turn makes getting to any other landmark uber convenient. From the moment I arrive, I am excited to to spend several days in this very alive city.
A message repeated throughout the many museums and monuments of the Holocaust is that retelling its story is critical so as to prevent anything similar form happening again. I fully agree with the message and the sentiment; however, I feel that it ignores the many examples that have occurred between WWII and today. I will admit that determining what events should classify as genocide can be difficult; however, below are examples of others that could be included:
Soon after WWII in 1947, the partition of India, in which a newly formed border was created separating the Hindus and Sikhs, resulted in 500,000 to 1,000,000 dead because they were on the wrong side of that border.
In Australia, between 1900 and 1970, twenty to twenty-five thousand Aboriginal children were taken from their homes and separated from their families. Some now call them the “Stolen Generation.” (As a side note, the way that Native Americans were treated when European first settled in North America can also be interpreted as genocide.)
In Pakistan, during the Bangladesh War in 1971, there are estimates ranging from 300,000 to 3 million people killed by the Pakistan Army. Targeted during this killing include the Bengali intellectual, cultural, and political elite along with Hindus.
The Rwanda genocide in 1994 is estimated to have killed 800,000 people. This genocide, lasting 100 days, was performed by the Hutu militias against Tutsis and pro-peace Hutus.
The first president of Equatorial Guinea, Francisco Macias Nguema, killed or exiled up to 1/3 of the country’s population (80,000 out of 300,000 are estimated to have been killed).
The Khmer Rouge from Cambodia, whom I commented on in an early entry, are responsible for killing about 1.7 million Cambodians between 1975 and 1979.
Indonesian occupation of East Timor resulted in approximately 100,000 deaths between 1974 and 1999. Many of deaths resulted from malnutrition and it is rumored that the Indonesian military used starvation as its main tool of “exterminating” the East Timorese.
These are only a handful of examples of mass killings that have occurred since the events that took place in and around Germany under the Nazi regime. I agree that the history of the Holocaust should be retold to try to prevent it in the future; however, I also feel we need to try to recognize its signs and instead of learning about how it affected history, learn how it can be prevented in the future.
In addition, most museums I visited did not recall other examples of mass killings and I feel when the take-away message is to prevent something similar form happening again, explaining that it already has will only help emphasize the point.