Ich bin dankbar für . . .

Thanksgiving is a traditional American holiday that I think has mostly become a joke to Americans. We eat a lot of Turkey, watch football, sit around with random cousins and have the same small talk you had the year before ("So Amanda, have a boyfriend? How's school?" etc) and if we do remember what this holiday is supposed to signify, it is mostly joking about how after this meal Americans then spent 200 years killing Indians. Which, let's face it, is true . . . but that is not the point. The point is we should take this day to express our thanks to the people and things that perhaps we have not for the rest of the year. Forced, yes, but appreciated . . . also a yes.

This year was not my first Thanksgiving away from my family, but unlike last year which I spent doing final papers alone in my apartment, this year Dr. Liu invited the UMD group and some of her friends here to a big feast. Turkey, cranberry sauce, sweet potatoes, gravy--and a Turkish/German touch with delicious couscous and Turkish Pizzas. Even though I was forced to express my thankfulness in very inarticulate--and probably completely wrong--German, it was an enjoyable evening and it was nice to hang out in a mostly school-free setting. (Except for the German speaking.) We also played a German board game for children which showed how little of German geography I actually know and I think the evening was all in all a great time. I am glad that out of the country we found a way to have our own traditions, altered of course a little by the fact that we are in Germany, and I am especially grateful for the turkey. :-)

As Thanksgiving is the official start of the holiday season for Americans, I was not surprised to see that in Germany also Christmas starts way before December 24th. A number of Weihnachtsmarkts are popping up all over Berlin, some more commercial than others. There is a fake sledding hill at Potsdamer Platz that is definitely on my todo list and I hear there's a roller coaster at Alexanderplatz which Meredith may have bruised her nose on . . . that however has not deterred my desire to go on it. Yet there are other reasons for these things--little traditional gifts, Christmas ornaments, thick paper stars, and of course lots of food. I'm hoping to do what little Christmas shopping I have left at one of these markets, with hopefully a Glühwein in one hand and a sausage in the other. I'm hoping my last 2 weeks (actually 13 days now) can be filled with something traditionally German like these markets as opposed to just final exams and trying to cram everything I own in 2 suitcases.

Something perhaps not traditionally German but also Christmas-y that I saw this weekend was the giant decorations at KaDeWe. I'm sure every American has

watched the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade at least once and has heard of, if not seen for themselves, the window decorations at Macy's flagship store in Herald Square. Even though Herald Square now has an H&M, among other stores, and is a bustling shopping center throughout the year, people come out in droves to see the decorations in the windows at Macy's. Yet KaDeWe has a different kind of draw--while it has some Christmas themed windows, it is what is inside that is the most important. There are decorated trees, snow-covered ivy, Santas, ornaments . . . it is quite a sight, and also crowded with people shopping or looking. The Christmas decorations on the streets are equally as beautiful, though I feel like Christmas homesickness is perhaps an all new animal. I am still having mixed emotions about leaving Berlin--I finally feel settled here, it's even more beautiful with the lights everywhere, I'm getting used to the dark at 3 and the cold--but it will be nice to be home for Christmas. I have yet to spend a Christmas away from my entire family and I am grateful that as much as I love Berlin, this is not the year for that first.

The end is near.

The most exciting part of this week was, of course, the release of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Part 1. Not only would I have seen it before people back home just due to the time difference, but it came out 2 days earlier in Germany then it did in the UK and the US. So, to all you back home, ha.

As expected, the theater was packed with a number of excited Harry Potter fans, both German speaking and English speaking. Thankfully, the movie was in English, even though the first preview was dubbed in German and near gave me a heart attack. The movie was also very well done, I thought, and had a good blend of the darkness and the humor in the book. Sometimes, I found myself frustrated with the characters' emotional constipation, whether it was written in the book or made more awkward by the director. Most of the time I just wanted to shake them and tell them to talk it out, but then again that is the nature of 17-year olds . . . awkwardness and a lack of understanding for how they feel.

In retrospect, I also find myself a little jealous of the Germans in the theater. The movie was the original version, without subtitles, and the Germans chose to see this version instead of a subtitled or dubbed version--they have enough mastery of the English language to understand the film. It's one thing to be able to say basic sentences related to your job, but to understand a movie, especially a movie with lots of created words, is impressive and something I could never do after years of studying Spanish back home. My German is of course very minimal, but my Spanish could be much better, if I started younger and if I had more opportunities to use it outside of an academic setting. To learn a foreign language as a child and use it on a regular basis . . . I am jealous of Europeans for this kind of opportunity, even if they don't see it as one.

I leave here in less than three weeks. The papers and projects I have left to do stand as a constant reminder that soon, they will be done and I will be going home. How crazy is that? Part of me is ready to go home, to play with my dog, to find a job and have some sense of normalcy back. But part of me is also not at all ready . . . it was not easy for me to get here financially and it will not be easy for me to get back for a number of years. How strange a thought. Or even, will I come back soon? I've seen a lot of Berlin and very little of other cities. That thought is the wierdest I think . . . what should I do my last few days here, other then final papers?

Czech this out!

Top 3 reasons I loved Prague.

1. Chuck Norris.

2. Harry Potter.

3. EVERYTHING else.

I knew before coming to Germany that I wanted to go to Prague. I had heard it was cheap, a big plus for a struggling student, and also beautiful. But I didn't really have any other ideas about Prague or reasons for wanting to visit, and I was definitely pleasantly surprised.

Even after a 5 AM train ride from Berlin, where I lost my Parisian sunglasses (boo!), and a hectic morning trying to find the hotel, Prague could not have been a more pleasant weekend. We went on a walking tour around Old Town and the Jewish Quarter, and the streets were cute, cobblestoned, and not chock full of tourists--always a plus. I'm usually not all about older, smaller cities--I prefer New York to Boston and Berlin to Munich, but Prague had a completely different feel to it. It felt more real, in a way that I think I did not feel in either Munich or Boston. This might be due to the fact that the buildings there are actually as old as they look. There is a castle and medieval churches and bridges scattered throughout the city, saved from the destruction of both World Wars.

Charles Bridge I was particularly impressed with not only for the intense religious sculptures and towers on either end, but also the quality of street vendors. Instead of cheesy models of the bridge or postcard stands as far as the eye could see, like one would find in any other city, there were street musicians, local jewelry makers, painters . . . after buying a pair of blue handmade earrings, I had to refrain from buying a glass pair of earrings made from recycled bottles and a number of other pendants on the bridge. I was amazed by the fact that this tourist landmark--the only one I knew by name before I perused my Europe guidebook last week--is not overrun by sketchy, aggressive vendors and instead by quiet and talented artists. Never once was I hassled. Instead, a man told me about his jewelry when I had hovered for a few minutes around a pair of earrings. What a pleasant change of tourist pace.

I also felt a lack of annoyance from the locals about having to change to English to speak with me. I don't know a single word in Czech, nor can I read it with all the crazy accents on it, and I never had a problem. True, I stuck to touristy areas. But restaurants and stores and guides and even vendors selling kielbasa and Glühwein on the street spoke enough English to make me feel totally comfortable and welcome. This is a huge change from both France and Germany. While there are many places where English is common in Berlin, there are many where it is not, which becomes a struggle when I can only make simple sentences about food, furniture, and planning a trip. Many Parisians seemed downright annoyed that I had the audacity to point at a sandwich instead of learning the French word for whatever it was I wanted--but then again, that might just be a Parisian quality. While I have no issue with the German standoffishness--in fact, often I find myself rejoicing in the lack of small talk--it was nice to be among a group of generally warmer people, especially in a city I knew nothing about.

All in all, I thoroughly enjoyed our weekend in Prague and would go there again in a heartbeat. Now while I can't convey the beauty of the city with my photos--it never works the way you want it too--here are a number of shots anyway, just for good measure.

The Astronomical Clock. Voted the most disappointing tourist landmark. Well chosen, voters, well chosen.

View from the top of said Clock Tower. Best 50 krona I ever spent.

Standing on Charles Bridge.

Dean's Church (I think that's what he said) lit up in Blue and the giant statue in Old Town Square.

Wolfgang.

Last Friday, the FU-Besters went on our last required excursion--this time to the Stasi Prison Hohenschönhausen. I think this was a much harder experience then the previous week's trip--Sachsenhausen--and I have a few theories for that. Firstly, it was rainy, dreary and cold. Everything looks bleaker in bad weather, especially awful places. Secondly, it was all still standing. Much of the concentration camp had been torn down and while it did not take away from the awful-ness of what had been there--I am not trying to demean the strength it takes to visit a concentration camp--the fact that the buildings were still intact made it seem much more real and recent. Also, I think Holocaust Germany is generally what most people think about when they think about 20th century German history. Then the Cold War happened. Then David Hasselhoff sang on top of the Berlin Wall and all was well again, yay Germany. The Stasi, at least for me, was a part of history I knew about, but definitely not as much as I thought I did. The prison then was much more of a shock to me I think because I was not expecting the horrors there like I was at Sachsenhausen.

The last and most important reason why I found this excursion so difficult, and probably also so much more meaningful and intensely informative, was Wolfgang, our guide. Our larger group was split into two smaller groups--one who spoke enough German and were going to have a German speaking tour guide, and our group, which had Stephen to translate for our guide. Let me paint this picture for you: Wolfgang is probably in his 60s. He is wearing a black sweater vest and the top of a black and gray striped tie is popping out the top. On top of that, a black leather jacket. His hair is grey and he speaks no English, or at least not a lot, and he is a former prisoner of Hohenschönhausen. During the quick rundown we got through Stephen, Wolfgang is a West Berliner who was arrested in Bulgaria for helping someone cross the border. He spent a year imprisoned there and 4 weeks in Hohenschönhausen with intense interrogation before he was even charged or tried and then he was sent back to Bulgaria to serve his sentence, which I believe was another year and some months.

Wolfgang was very knowledgable about all aspects of the prison, the older part and the newer part. The older part, which closed after Stalin's death, was focused on physical torture. The rooms were dark, crowded, and contained a bucket and a too-small wooden bench as a bed. Men were physically tortured by Chinese Water Torture, where they have to kneel in a horribly uncomfortable position and put their head between two buckets and have water drip into the same spot on their head for a half hour, and apparently after some time it starts to feel like a sledgehammer, or by the standing rooms, where they stood naked and had cold water dropped over them in a room with uncomfortable slats jutting out from the wall so that they would stand for up to 3 days.

Women were asked if they wanted a warm cell or a cold cell--the warm cell would be unbearably hot with no water to drink, and the cold cell unbearably cold with no coverings. Then during interrogation, they would be offered water if they confessed.

The newer building, where Wolfgang was imprisoned, focused on psychological torture. They were completely isolated from all the other prisoners, even to the point where they couldn't see anyone else in the hall. Wolfgang told us a number of ways they would communicate however--tapping on the walls in morse code, or they would take the water out of the toilets and could communicate with the prisoner above them. He also told us about the informants disguised as other prisoners--sometimes, a prisoner would be put in a two person cell and the other person would be trained in informal interrogation and try to get information out of the prisoner. Apparently, they tried this tactic with Wolfgang and he saw through it. He said he only knew something was wrong because he wasn't a new prisoner and why would they do this all of a sudden--but even when he was saying this, he still looked proud of himself for besting the man. Good for him, I say.

Wolfgang then showed us an interrogation room and explained the many styles of interrogation they would use--much like "good cop, bad cop." When they were good cop-ing, his interrogator would have his West German cigarettes on the table or once they gave him a piece of cake. But it was always give and take--once you were given something you wanted, you were expected to give them what they want. They would make the phone ring in front of them with a button under the desk and say that your wife was in danger, your father had a heart attack, your children were being taken away. You were already deprived of sleep, of contact, of basic human needs--you were likely to confess to anything after a certain amount of time. Wolfgang told us, chuckling to himself, how he threw a plate against the wall after he was told his accusers were in the other room, yelling to see who they were. The only reason he wasn't punished was his return to Bulgaria had already been arranged.

I couldn't decide whether it warmed my heart or made me pity Wolfgang more that he could joke about interrogation or the Stasi. It takes a strong person to come back to your prison every day and give tours talking about the atrocities committed against yourself and other people just like you. Then to chuckle about your own experiences, your own smashing of a plate in the interrogation room, your own addiction to the cigarettes on the table, your own wife used against you--how far you must have come, how far he must have come since those dark days of his life. I did decide that Wolfgang must've been a badass back then and still is a bit of one now, and again, good for him. As Elena told me on Friday, I hope he's led a good life.