In Germany, even McDonald’s sells it, and I am getting slowly addicted to it. Bionade is a fermented lemonade made out of organic ingredients and – don’t worry – has absolutely no alcohol in it. And best of all, it has less than half the calories of coca-cola.
I just don’t know what my favorite flavor is, herbs or orange-ginger… lychee and elderberry aren’t bad either. Want to bet how long it takes until one of the biggies buys them out? Gosh, I wish they were listed.
PS: Fireworks are going off… England 1 … Germany 2. What’s wrong Beckham? Don’t know how to bend it ? ;)
PPS: Thank you for the “Danke for 2006”, that was sweet. Next time you win. You deserve it.
When I was a little girl, my parents used to take me to East Berlin on day trips, to see the other half of the city. We also visited friends and family in East Germany, but most of them lived in little towns some distance away from Berlin. Sightseeing visits to East Berlin were rarer, but they remain very vivid in my memory.
East Berlin was so different from the western part of the city, where we lived. It was gray, run down, and quiet, but it also had Berlin’s historic city center, and because very little had been done on the old buildings it always seemed like a journey back in time.
Yesterday, we went to Prenzlauer Berg, which I had seen for the first time during one of these visits. Then, getting to the Eastern part of the city took lengthy preparation and a long wait at the border, yesterday it was a simple subway ride.
Prenzlauer Berg is a beautiful inner city neighborhood, north east of the Brandenburg Gate. Like the name “Berg” (mountain) suggests it lies on a hill, and most of the buildings from the late 19th and early 20th century still exist. The neighborhood is one of the few inner city boroughs that was not heavily bombarded during World War II. When I saw Prenzlauer Berg for the first time during GDR times, most of the buildings were in terrible disrepair, now they have been renovated.
Prenzlauer Berg was a popular neighborhood for artists, students, and intellectuals during GDR times, and some of them began to organize opposition against the socialist regime in the 1980s. Zionskirche, pictured below, served as a meeting place for them, and was later closed by the Stasi in an effort to stop the movement.
After the fall of the wall, a lot of young people from the west moved into the derelict buildings in the neighborhood, and it was quickly established as the place to live and play in Berlin. That’s still the case, but the whole neighborhood, now restored and very pretty, has gone up-market and many of the original residents can’t afford the rising rents. It’s still a young neighborhood and very popular with young families, but you need to have a well-paying job to be able to live there.
If you would like to see the pictures larger and with captions click here.
Berlin is my home city, and it will always be a special place for me, but I don’t suffer from home sickness in Hong Kong either. Living abroad is a wonderful adventure for me. When I am in Berlin, half of me is a native, the other half sees the city with some distance, almost like a tourist. It’s a funny state to be in, and I think most expats go through the same feelings.
I try to make the most of my Berlin visits. I don’t have to work from nine to five, and can enjoy the city, and the best part is that I already know some of the best places to visit.
The following is not a top ten list of things to see or do in Berlin, just a random list of things I enjoy when I am here.
I enjoy that Berlin is a green city
Whenever I arrive, it’s the first thing I notice, and it has an immediate soothing effect on me. Berlin has over 400,000 trees lining its streets, and they make walking or bicycling on a hot summer day much more fun. Berlin also has over 2,500 parks, small neighborhood parks as well as expansive city parks like the Tiergarten in the center of the city (pictured above), or the beautiful Gardens of the World.
Berlin has lots and lots of water
Any tourist guide worth his money will tell you that Berlin has more bridges than Venice. There are two rivers, several canals, and innumerable lakes throughout the city area. The Wannsee and Müggelsee, the two largest lakes, are popular weekend retreats.
One of my favorite spots in the city is the bank of the Landwehrkanal in Kreuzberg. I usually start my stroll at Maybachufer, which is the site of a colorful Turkish market on Tuesday and Friday afternoons, and then walk along the green banks of the canal towards Urbanhafen. There are some very nice garden cafes and restaurants along the way, and also restaurant ships anchored on the banks of the canal.
Speaking of water…
Berliners are spoiled for choice, when they want to go swimming. There are more than 60 public swimming pools and lake-side beaches, and wherever you live in the city a pool isn’t far away. Little man has been going to swimming lessons at our neighborhood pool since we have arrived. It’s a special daily course during the school holidays, and it’s great fun to see all these kids having fun and making progress.
Berlin’s traffic men look cute
Berlin’s little green and red men are one of the few holdovers from communism. In East Germany all traffic men wore hats, and when the wall came down West Berliners wanted them too. Now they can be found in East Berlin, and also on new traffic lights in West Berlin.
Ick bin een Berlina. Da kiekste, wa?!
I love the Berlin dialect. Ok… the rest of Germany might not agree, but they don’t know what’s good anyway. It’s my true first language. I also know how to speak Hochdeutsch (high German), but when I am in Berlin, chatting with good friends or family, there is absolutely no doubt that I was born and raised here.
Berliners are direct
Most often too direct. They relish telling you, when you are wrong, and won’t hide if they don’t like you. On the other hand, you always know where you are with them, which is quite refreshing.
To give you an example, a few days ago little man crashed with his bicycle. His knee and elbow were bleeding, and he was crying miserably. Five people passed us, on foot or bicycles, and all of them offered help. But the sixth only saw a mama holding her child in her arms, standing in the middle of the path. He told me that I was blocking the way… that’s the Berlin mix of “Herz und Schnauze” (heart and big mouth). Some have more Herz, others more Schnauze.
Berlin has a public transport system that works!
Subways, city trains, buses, trams… all interconnected in a dense network crisscrossing the city. But don’t try to tell Berliners, how good their public transport is. They won’t believe you. Instead, they rather stand in traffic jams with their cars, and spend hours in search for a parking space.
Speaking of not having to use a car…
Berlin has over 800 kilometers of bicycle paths, and a lot of people use their bicycles for daily transportation. It’s a wonderful way to see the city, go to places without worrying about high gas prices, and getting a work-out at the same time. If you don’t want to pedal on your own, you can always hire a velotaxi… the video even says that they are exporting the high-tech rickshaws back to Asia… :)
Museums, theaters, operas, art galleries…
we have them all, and the nice thing is that there isn’t just a wide variety of big, state-supported places, but also smaller ones, like off-theaters in cellars and rooftops, music stages in former circus tents, private galleries, and one room museums. It makes for a very lively cultural scene, which no doubt profits from Berlin’s low property prices.
I hear that the night life isn’t bad either…
and doesn’t need to hide behind those of bigger cities, but don’t ask me where to go. Like all people over thirty with small kids, I am so out of it. On the other hand, if you need to know where the best children’s playgrounds are, send me an email.
I must have been ten or eleven years old. I was lying on my towel next to two girl-friends at the public swimming pool, when one of them pulled packages of fizz powder from her bag. We loved them. One flat package of Ahoj-Brause was enough for one glass of lemonade, but we never mixed them with water. We either stuck our wet index fingers into the package and licked them clean, or poured all of it into the palm of our hands and dunked our tongues in it.
Suddenly my friend said “It’s even better if you pour all of it into your mouth and then kiss a boy”. My other friend and I stared at her open mouthed. How did she know such things? Had she tried? “My sister told me.” Aah. Of course her older sister would know.
Even before, licking fizz powder always felt curiously illicit. Licking it slowly from your index finger, and the wonderful, tingly feeling on your tongue afterwards. If you ate too much of it, against the warnings by grown-ups, your stomach felt bubbly and the occasional citrusy burp – lemon, orange, raspberry, or woodruff – escaped.
And then I saw The Tin Drum on TV. I was still fairly young, and didn’t understand half of it, but the images were so powerful. A lady sitting on a wintry field and cooking potatoes in an open fire, when a young man runs by, pursued by policemen. She hides him under her long, wide skirt, and after a while makes curious grimaces. The angler at the shore of the Baltic Sea, using the head of a dead horse to fish for eel. Oskar, the drummer that refuses to grow, pouring fizz powder on the belly button of his nanny and licking it clean (there is a whole chapter in the novel titled “Fizz Powder”).
I have seen it in other films as well. Everyone in Germany knows Ahoj-Brause. It’s an easy symbol to use. The time of childhood innocence usually ends, right after the protagonists lick Ahoj-Brause out of each others slightly dirty palms.
Yesterday, I bought it at the supermarket. Ten packages for 55 cents, it’s still a cheap enjoyment, and the packages haven’t changed much since they came to market 80 years ago. They still feature the same logo with a blue sailor.
I hear that it has become fashionable to pour it into alcoholic beverages. That’s not for me. Sticking my wet index finger into the small paper bag and licking it clean – slowly – is quite enough. Woodruff still tastes best… burp :).
During the last weeks, I have spent a handful of days in the office of a business partner, to get the most pressing things done for Cosima Inc. When little man is around, it’s impossible to get anything done, and it is also nice to talk strategy while I am in his office. He concentrates on sales, while I do the buying side of the business.
His office is in a converted shop, which he shares with another company, and it’s not exactly located in the best part of town. But I am enjoying it more than sitting in a glitzy office tower. It’s a colorful area with lots of people on the sidewalks, and restaurants with cuisine from all over the world. My favorite is a little Vietnamese restaurant, where I can get an excellent authentic meal with main course, drink, and coffee for 8 Euros (US$5.80).
Yesterday, not one but two gypsy bands came by to serenade us from the side walk, which let the rest of my office companions sigh in exasperation. Apparently, it’s a too frequent occurrence. I enjoyed it though, they were good.
Our neighbors are an organic produce shop and a hairdresser specializing in African hairdos. Opposite are an animal clinic and an old-style pub, a “Kneipe”. While I wouldn’t want to spend time inside – think smoky dark room with a few men sitting at the bar drinking beer at 11 in the morning – they also have a few tables on the sidewalk, an excellent spot to drink coffee and do a little people watching.
Best of all, the office is near enough to get there with my bike. So my working days are also my work-out days, which brings a sense of double accomplishment.
PS: The post title “Kiez” is the equivalent of hood or neighborhood in Berlin dialect. It’s mostly used for inner-city areas, not the wealthiest but with lots of character.
I know, I know… the probability of winning the lottery is about as high as being struck by lightning, surviving, being struck a second time, and being killed. But all the signs pointed to a mega win… by me. Did I mention that I am not superstitious? Most of the time anyway, but last Saturday was an exception. I had too be, because there were so many auspicious signs.
Firstly the date, the seventh day of the seventh month in the year 2007. In Berlin, 353 couples got married, hoping that their marriage would benefit from a lucky date… fools, I know, but playing the lottery is something different entirely… or is it?
Anyway, the date was not the only auspicious sign. Little man’s and my birthday had just passed in the same week, and birthdays always make me feel lucky. Also, there were a whooping 17 million Euros in the jackpot. That’s an argument in itself to play. Yeah, yeah… money alone doesn’t bring happiness, but do you really know whether that’s true? See… me neither.
And then there was the bird. A little one, that flew through a narrow gap in our bathroom window, as I was brushing my teeth on the evening before. I opened the door, and it flew into the hallway, passed my stunned mother, took a short break on my father’s jacket, flew into my bedroom where it nearly bumped into little man. Slightly dazed, it circled a few times around the ceiling lamp, which gave me enough time to open the window and let it out to freedom. Birdy didn’t poop, so we liked it and felt extremely lucky.
Saturday afternoon I went into our neighborhood newsstand and filled out a lottery ticket, and then discovered that I didn’t have enough money to pay for it. Luckily (notice the lucky streak winding through this post?), my mom and little man were waiting in front of the shop, and I was able to ask my mom for money. My promise to pay her back after my 17 million win drew a chuckle by the six people waiting in the queue behind me. Lots of people were feeling lucky that day.
The draw, six numbers out of 49, was shown live before the evening news on German TV. I missed it, which didn’t matter too much, because my lucky streak must have ended shortly before. Only two of my numbers were correct, which yields… nichts, nada, nothing… not a single Cent.
Which brings me back to dry probabilities. I read Statistics 101 in university, and even suffered through Statistics 201. I learned that statistically it makes absolutely no sense to play the lottery. Still, someone in Lower Saxony won 17,600,604.30 Euros last Saturday, against all odds. I hope he or she will enjoy the win, and do something good with it… and not be struck by lightning tomorrow.
Little man and I have read Mondays at Monster School about 101 times, The Tickle Book close to 99 times, and the classic The Very Hungry Caterpillar exactly 100 times. All of them are fantastic. How can you not love a book in which little monster Fred is so nervous about his first day in school that he doesn’t want to eat his bug crispies, but overcomes his fear and has his first lesson in howling and growling, and listens to a story about a yucky prince and a nice monster? But I thought it’s time to introduce little man to something new…
It’s a poem every child in Germany knows and loves. There are several versions told, some longer, some shorter, but my dad told me this one.
It was dark, the moon shone brightly,
snow lay on green ground,
when a car, fast as lightning,
rounded slowly ‘round a bend.
Within standing people sat,
silently lost in discussion,
when a hare, shot to death,
skated on a sandbank.
And on a green bench,
which was painted red,
sat a blond-curled youth
with hair black as sooth.
In his arms an old woman,
not yet sixteen years of age,
in her hand a butter sandwich,
which was spread with lard.
All around deep silence reigned,
and with terrible noise,
play in grass’s branches
two camels silently chess.
And two fishes walked merrily
through the blue cornfield.
Finally, the sun went down
and the grey day appeared.
This poem by Goethe
wrote Schiller at night during dawn,
when he sat on his chamber pot,
reading the newspaper.
Birds are chirping, it’s warm enough (24C/75C) to sit outside, and everything is in bloom. I am so glad, I could squeeze in a stopover at my parents’ house in Berlin. Tomorrow I am going to fly to Switzerland.
The pictures are from a park, we visited yesterday. Berlin is a very green city, with lots of street trees and parks, and at the moment full of nature’s abundance. So different from Hong Kong’s jungely green.
Germany is looking for its American Idol… eh… Superstar. Until last week, I hadn’t seen any of these two shows… yeah, I know, I do live behind the moon, and what’s even worse, hardly watch television anymore.
Anyway, so this German clone show is underway, and through a very nifty web service we are able to record German TV programs and later see them on our PC in Hong Kong. I have to admit that I only saw a quarter of “Deutschland sucht den Superstar”, because I fast-forwarded most of the bla bla in between the actual singing, but my money is on her…
Lisa Bund, 18 years old, currently working in her parents’ lingerie store in Mainz. Here she sings Pink’s “Nobody Knows”…
…but I am voting out the hairdresser. She also did a great Natural Woman… with natural hair.
I would like to thank the academy for giving the Oscar for the best foreign-language film to The Lives Of Others. From the moment this movie opened in German cinemas, I wanted to see it. There was never any hope that it would be shown in Hong Kong cinemas, so I waited patiently for it to show up in the “New Release” shelf of my local movie rental. So far it hasn’t. I knew that chances were slim. They have only a few German movies, one of them Run Lola Run is placed in the work-out section next to “Tighten Your Abs in 20 Days”.
But now, thanks to you, honorable academy members, they will have to buy “The Lives Of Others” for their “Oscars – Best Foreign Film” section … Thank you, thank you, thank you!
PS: Although I will reserve judgment until I have actually seen the movie, the actors in it, most notably Martina Gedeck and Ulrich Mühe, are well-known in Germany. Ulrich Mühe, who plays a Stasi agent in the film, is an accomplished theater and movie actor from East Germany. He played the lead role in the first theater play I saw in East Berlin after the fall of the Wall, an adaptation of Hamlet.
Here is an early classic that recounts my memories of visiting my grandma in East Germany, which sort of ties in with the theme of the film.
Oh, and Hong Kong won indirectly as well at the Oscars. The Departed is based on the script of Infernal Affairs, a very popular Hong Kong movie from 2002. So far, I have only seen “Infernal Affairs”, and I can certainly understand why Hollywood was attracted to the script. It has lots of elegant twist and turns that keep you guessing to the end. I haven’t seen “The Departed” yet, but am very curious about the differences to the Hong Kong version.
