So, I am watching German TV this morning, and one of the perks in Dubai is having a giant satellite dish on the roof that catches three German TV channels (illegally of course). It’s the ninth of November and twenty years ago the Wall was opened. But today, a pretty and young TV reporter stands at Bornholmer Strasse a former border crossing between East and West Berlin. I can see it’s cold, it rains, truly November weather in Berlin. She tells a story about the former border crossing, about the few pieces of Wall that are still standing, and the information post with audio in eight languages (she presses the Chinese button) about its history.
In my mind images of my mother and me enduring border crossings between East and West to visit my grandma twenty-five years ago pop up. None of them pleasurable.
Suddenly, this young reporter, trying to look cheerful despite the early morning rain (did I already tell you that November is not a good month in Berlin?). Says that she is VERY happy to have a guest this morning (camera moves a little to the left) the former sergeant (or was he general, and truly who really cares?) of the border crossing.
I am thinking… WTF?
Close up of a very spritely looking seventy-plus year old with white hair in dark green anorak (he still likes army colors).
Pretty reporter asks green anorak “What happened twenty years ago?”
All I could think of was again “WTF?”
Not enough that this cowardly career asshole is obviously enjoying a cushy state pension, he gets invited to comment to an anniversary that should have nothing to do with him.
While I looked around for the remote control to put an end to this farce, I am thinking… how can you… how in the world can you interview this guy… without throwing up on his army green anorak?
She looked younger than me, probably she never had to endure a East-West border crossing? Why? WTF? Why?
I stood on the Wall twenty years ago. It was like a dream then and it is like a dream now. I will never forget the joy and wonder when my teenage world came to an end. And I will never forget the totalitarian regime my grandma had to endure. Never forget my visits to see her. And the terrible border crossings.
My grandma was so beautiful. She had this wonderful wise smile. Unfortunately, she died four years too early to see it, but I think she would have been very happy.
Twenty years ago my English teacher at school was a little late. We sat around in front of the class room. We were not really surprised that he was late. He was someone who enjoyed the finer things in life, and eight 0′clock in the morning was not his most favorite time. Still, we loved him, because he was a a very good teacher (“You are not learning for the next test, but for life!”), and he loved Shakespeare.
He turned up half an hour late.
We: Mr. Streetcastle! (that was Mr. Strassburg’s English name) Why are you late again?”
He: Haven’t you heard?
We: No, what happened?
He: The Wall is open!
We (stunned with open eyes and mouth)
He: I can’t believe that you haven’t heard! I was up all night. I was in East Berlin with my bicycle. Everything is going to change now!
Of course we saw the many East German people in Hungarian embassies, of course we saw the many people walking through East German streets demonstrating, of course we loved Mr. Gorbachev, but somehow the ninth of November still came as a surprise.
We spun dreams of a wonderful future with Mr. Streetcastle for an hour or so, afterwards we sat through the rest of the school day, then wen went home to our families, and then most of us went to the Wall to see thousands and thousands of East Berliner to stream to West Berlin.
In the evening, my boyfriend and I tried to cross to East Berlin at Checkpoint Charly. Checkpoint Charly was one of the most famous border crossings between East and West Berlin, but West Berliner were not allowed to use it. It was reserved for Americans, foreigners etc. but we thought on this day, surely we could cross there, in the middle of Berlin, to the other side, to the heart of Berlin?
No. A green uniform stopped us. We took the underground train to another border crossing.
In the twenty years since then, a lot of people had to adjust their hopes, and change didn’t come easy for many of them. But hearing the many dreadful stories of East Germans trying to find freedom in their country and not getting it until twenty years ago made it all worthwile.
It’s a true day of celebration for Germany. And I hope you have a smile on your face and remember the joyful pictures you saw on TV that day, twenty years ago.