ich bin ein Berliner

...casually, I navigated through the swarm of people at the train station. Their eyes darted side to side and their buzzing bodies crossed my would-be ambitious path. I took pride in my comfortable yet nimble steps leading me to the nearest ticket machine. After brushing off a beggar, I confidently selected "Deutsch" for the language option on the screen, and flew through the steps of purchasing a trip from Dusseldorf to Berlin at record speed. Then, I coolly turned in the exact direction of the awaiting train without a wasted effort, folding my ticket into my breast pocket... I wish I could end this excerpt with some kind of story, full of adventures, problems, lessons, and morals, but even with my modesty beside me, I simply got on the train and made it safely to Berlin in five hours.

I got there at 11pm Friday night and met some friends from Cincinnati at the train station. We walked around and ducked in and out of a few bars and clubs until 4am, and there were still just as many people out and about as when I got there. By the time I got back to crash on my friend's couch, it started to get a little bit lighter outside.

Saturday, my fellow classmate Katy and I walked around the city as I bored her to death with my architectural interests. She was a good sport, though. At some point I sent a text message to a friend from Lima, who just happened to be in Berlin at the same time, and we met at the Berliner Dom. We got dinner together and caught each other up on Lima news, while strolling along the Spree river. The atmosphere was similar to most German cities on the weekend: people, people, and more people, sitting, walking, drinking, eating, talking, and all outside.

Sunday is when Berliners sleep. The city was unbelievably quiet and it was this day that I could really start to feel the history of the city. After we went through the Jewish Museum nearby Checkpoint Charlie (I highly recommend it), we went to Potsdamer Platz where they have the three signature contemporary high-rise buildings, which seem really out of place. Before WWII this was the center of urban life during the Weimar Republic, full of shops, restaurants, cabarets, etc. After it was completely destroyed, it became a no-man's land as the Wall went straight through it. Now, there are these tall, lonely developments as well as some empty property with giant billboards that look like buildings, and a trace of the Wall is marked by a thin path of bricks on the ground. Even the Reichstag, which was the center of a Prussian Empire, an evil dictatorship, a fascist communist state, and now a free, united Germany, seemed kind of empty. Just thinking about all of the things that happened here is overwhelming, especially when standing right where it all took place. That's why Germany has tried so hard to make Berlin the fun, welcoming city that it is. Berliners turn every square inch into something that can be accessible to people. Even when old buildings or old infrastructure aren't being used for their original purpose, people will set up markets and art galleries, add artistic graffiti, lay out some tables and chairs, have a festival or two, and call it a day. This has become known as the "hippster" effect: throw in a bunch of artsy people in a dilapidated city and see if they can make it "hip."