Google's heightened security concerns prevented me from adhering to my normal publishing schedule while traveling abroad. I have divided the accumulated material into two articles, Germany and Not Germany.
Wednesday, September 6, 2017
After a 2-hour layover in Dublin, we landed in Berlin at 10 AM local time. Passport control, baggage claim and the taxicab ride to our hotel all moved apace and we were taking a nap in our room before noon.
It proved to be a good choice. The midday rain showers ended, at least for a couple of hours, and we were able to have a very good meal sitting outside, immediately opposite a perpendicularly parked Tesla. I had an omelet containing mushrooms, green onions, bacon and potatoes, while my young bride had lox, cream cheese and spinach in a wrap, which she pronounced far better than the sum of its parts. The milchkaffee (do I hear echoes of covfefe?) was particularly good, that's coffee with steamed milk, and served in real drinking vessels, not repurposed egg cups.
Our walk to and from Sets revealed this neighborhood, Charlottenburg, to be loaded with ritzy boutiques, designer furniture stores and, more importantly, Chinese, Vietnamese, Japanese and Thai restaurants.
Thursday, September 7, 2017
We met Marianne Motherby for lunch. She recently stepped down from the post of general counsel for Deutsches Bahn, the national railroad system. We came to her via Barbara and Dean Alfange, who have remained in contact with her since she studied American constitutional law with Dean during a one-year USA stay in 1979-80. She was charming and well informed in so many areas and in English.
I erred badly, however, when I marched off in a different direction as Marianne and America's Favorite Epidemiologist went for a stroll leading them to Eisbox, Knesebeckstraße 21-23, one of Berlin's best ice cream parlors. When I went there after dinner, the joint was already closed. Who ever heard of an ice cream parlor closing at 6 PM? That's plain un-American.
Dinner, on the other hand, was a huge success. As part of this Let Bygones Be Bygones tour, we ate at Saigon Green, Kantstraße 23, a crowded, casual Vietnamese joint. We shared Crispy Lucky Rolls, finger-sized, fried vegetable rolls, and proceeded separately through Thuha's Favourite, tofu in a buttery curry sauce (she), and Bun Bo Nam Bo, slices of beef on vermicelli in a spicy lime sauce, and Duck 'N' Roll, shredded duck and hoisin sauce wrapped in a thin crepe (me). We agreed that this was great food, helping me cope with the later disappointment of encountering Eisbox's ridiculously early closing time.
Walking in the neighborhood of our hotel, in the traditional center of West Berlin, we immediately learned of one major gap in Teutonic efficiency. Opposite sides of the street are independently numbered. As far as I can tell, on a north-south street, the numbers go from low to high on the west side of the street and from high to low on the east side, while something equally confusing is happening on east-west streets. This weird system seems to be limited to Berlin, although several knowledgeable locals could not explain why.
Friday, September 8, 2017
We spent more than 4 hours visiting sites of Jewish interest today guided by Roey, an Israeli artist who has lived in Berlin for 7 years. His knowledge of history was strong, but he added an aesthetic dimension as well.
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We were pleased with dinner at Pratirio, Knesebeckstraße 22, a Greek restaurant.
Saturday, August 9, 2017
Saturday morning, we attended synagogue services at Pestalozzistraße Synagogue, a "Liberal" congregation as locally denoted. The building was completely rebuilt after the war, suffering more from British air raids than Kristallnacht, because it was immediately surrounded by multi-unit dwellings occupied by good Germans.
In spite of the local Liberal label, we regarded the service as conservative Conservative, the men and women seated separately, all Hebrew right out of the book, no interpretations or interpolations in German. Yet, discordantly, there was a booming organ and a professional choir.
A more welcome surprise was Lew (pronounced Lev) Norman, whose Bar Mizvah day this was. He was a very poised young man, reciting his Hebrew prayers and German speech with confidence and ease, although I could not judge the content of either. One aspect of the service was unfortunately familiar. About halfway through, a cellphone started ringing, causing someone to jump up and hustle out of the sanctuary.
As we joined the congregation for Kiddush, the after-service meal, we had another surprise. Jane an actress and Fred a lawyer, from Needham, Massachusetts, were in attendance, inspired by the same curiosity that we had. Of all things, they are also staying at our hotel and (drumroll) used to live at 180 West End Avenue, the neighbor to the Palazzo di Gotthelf at 170 West End Avenue. How about that?
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We visited the Jewish Museum Berlin, in the afternoon. Besides the material displayed, illuminating 1,500 years of German Jewish history, Daniel Liebeskind's design has some interesting architectural features to establish and disturb mood, darkness and light, sloping and tilted flooors.
To my trained eye, Jews made up only a very small portion of the many visitors.
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We choose Delhi6, Friedrichstraße 237, for dinner, partially because it was only one block from the museum. That is according to the map it is only one block. Walking on feet required more than three blocks because of construction. It was worth it, however. My large portion of Delhi6 Mixed Biriyani had enough lamb, chicken and prawns to warrant the 13.90€ price.
Sunday, September 10, 2017
The Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe and its information center are not connected to the Jewish Museum Berlin. The memorial was opened in 2005, funded by the Federal Parliament. It is an open space, measuring over 200,000 square feet, just opposite the American Embassy. It is covered with 2,711 concrete blocks of varying heights, but the same length and width. People sit on the lower ones; children run up and down the alleys formed by the higher ones. It's not a maze, but with a couple of turns you can lose your companions. A graveyard comes immediately to mind; I thought also of people, children and adults of all sizes, whose growth had been halted. The above ground site carries not a hint of meaning, no words, no facts are attached to the 2,711 blocks, a number itself that goes unexplained. I was reminded somewhat of a Harold Pinter play, said to reflect "the volatility and elusiveness of the past."
This level of abstraction has been the focus of much opposition to the memorial. A review in the New Yorker said: "Without that title [Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe], it would be impossible to know what the structure is meant to commemorate; there’s nothing about these concrete slabs that signifies any of the words of the title, except, perhaps, 'memorial'—insofar as some of them, depending on their height, may resemble either headstones or sarcophagi."
The Holocaust Information Center directly underneath the array of concrete blocks is everything they are not. It is detailed, specific, declarative. Names have faces, birth dates, dates (sometimes approximate) and manner of death. Victims are not merely identified as victims; photographs of family gatherings and celebrations introduce them as human beings long before they became prey. I believe that the sterility of the open field is more than balanced by the richness of the underground vault.
Need I say that this memorial is another vivid reminder of Nazi evil and demonstrates the impossibility of decent people associating themselves in any fashion with Naziism, past or present. There are no two sides to genocide.
Monday, September 11, 2017
By careful scheduling, I was able to get to Eisbox, Knesebeckstraße 21, well before its absurdly early closing time. It's a simple joint, one dozen ice cream, sorbet and frozen yoghurt flavors, and some beverages.
I had scoops of chocolate and strawberry (erdberre) mint sorbet in a cup for 3.50€. That's not as simple as it sounds. Many flavors have their own price, not the normal 1.50€ per scoop. In fact, the very appealing blood orange (blutorange) flavor has to be weighed separately and then charged per 100 grams, which proved too complicated for me.
While the price still was modest, so was the size of the scoops. The taste of the strawberry mint was better than expected and my expectations for ice cream are high. I'm not sure how many scoops they offer as their biggest serving, but, if I ever return, I may aim for my personal best, achieved in the Hague in 1989, six scoops in one cup.
Tuesday, September 12, 2107
These are stolpersteine, literally stumbling stones, found on sidewalks throughout Europe now. Each one has the name, birthdate and fate of a Jew who lived in a nearby building. Commemorated here are Ernst and Kathe Wrzeszinski, Anna Misch, and Margarete and Richard Ernst Rothenberg. These and more were on the avenue around the corner from our hotel. According to Wikipedia, at the start of this year there were over 56,000 in 22 countries. The project originated in 1992 by a German artist and continues under a non-profit organization.
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By chance, we had tickets to a Berlin Philharmonic concert that is part of Marianne's subscription, so we joined together for the evening. Berliner Philharmonie, the concert hall, was unattractive from the outside, but brilliantly designed on the inside. The audience sat in odd-shaped tiers surrounding the orchestra, an unusual arrangement for a classical venue.
Susanna Mällki, a young Finnish woman, conducted a program unfamiliar to me, Busoni, Bartok and Sibelius, but all the more exciting when performed so well. Gil Shaham, an Israeli violinist, was the soloist in the Bartok concerto.
Monday, September 11, 2017
Marooush, Knesebeckstraße 48, has belly dancing on the weekend, befitting its Egyptian character. Tonight, there was only hookah puffing to evoke the old country, although we asked for a seat as far removed from the smoke as possible. Safely positioned, we had a pleasant meal, forgetting for a time what we had endured under Pharaoh.
Tuesday, September 12, 2017
Beginning to wind down, I spent a lovely hour this afternoon sitting on a bench near a cluster of world famous museums without entering any one of them.
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For our farewell diner, we met Marianne at Anabelas Kitchen, Pestalozzistraße 3, an excellent restaurant owned and operated by a Portuguese woman chef.
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I offer my summary observation of Berlin, if you get the crap knocked out of you, you get the opportunity to build a bunch of exciting buildings.
