This is my favourite post card from, well, anywhere I've travelled to. Thus far anyway. Not because of the content, but because of the manner in which I received it. So here goes the story:
It was my final free day in Berlin, and I had wandered around the city enough, I was completely knackered from the the walk, the drain of the summer heat mixed with humidity, and my Isabel Marant dickie boots did nothing for my feet with the cobblestone streets. So I ended up in a completely foreign neck of the woods. The blisters on my feet were basically begging me to give them a break so I sat down on a bench in a random park. Sitting there for a couple of minutes, alone, it was quite possibly the most calming experience I've had travelling alone. Anyway, that was soon to be interrupted, cause an elderly german couple with a bike came to sit on my bench, they had cold bers, so I quickly obliged. The old woman was clearly the more fluent in english of the two and quickly engaged with me in a conversation, but not without breaking the ice by showing me this postcard, in jest she her husband had bought this cause they found it so hilarious. I mean, I can understand why they find it funny, and I reserve them the right to find it hilarious but I simply didn't find the hilarity in the image, and I blame the heat but in that moment, I just couldn't really understand the hilarity of the postcard. But I laughed anyway, her smile was infectious. She proceeded to tell me about how living on the west side of Berlin her whole life had shaped her. Together with her husband, she simply could never feel at home on the east, and though they respect that fact that Berlin is united, she could never roam the streets of the east and feel at home. She then went on to say that Berlin of today is great, that the youth can mingle and mix without any qualms, but her steadfast allegiance to the west really showed how loyal she was, after all, she had grown up during the war, in a very different Berlin to what it is today. She saw the wall come down and a her city had effectively changed forever. From an outsiders POV, the fall of the Berlin wall was a positive step in the right direction, and it continues to be, but we often forget how the lives of others have been changed forever. In that moment, my understanding of Berlin and my connection to the world and history had deepened, not only had I known, but I now understood. I then told the could I needed to leave, and carry on exploring Berlin organically with the final day I had left, she bid me Auf wiedersehen and sent me on my way, to fight the heat. 20 seconds down the road, I hear someone screaming "young lady!" It was the elderly woman, running after me. "Here have this. To remember Berlin and us.", handing me the postcard we had laughed about together only minutes prior. I was completely and totally touched, I just wanted to hug her, but instinctively knowing that she wasn't keen on me invading personal space (as most Germans do), I simply replied "Thank you".
I was grateful for their companionship and great conversation, not to mention the beer and the insight into Berlin that I could have never gotten on hours on a tour bus. Up until that point, I couldn't I found it hard to scratch the surface of Berlin. to begin with, is a 'hidden' sort of place, its the type of place that requires you to scratch the surface of whats there. It's not an 'easy place, it's not beautiful in a traditional sense, but its gritty and real and honest, just like this husband and wife. Berlin's people have been and hardened and humbled by its past. And in a sense, thats how Berlin grew on me. That conversation and that hot summers day will stay with me forever, and will always be my first feeling of realization and connection to a place... if only I could remember the name of that park!
Meeting cool people on my travels prompted me to realize that I could actually document this activity. Unfortunately the kind lady didn't do me the honour of taking her picture. But that's fine, I'll keep my memory of her alive when I look at this postcard.
No comments:
Post a Comment