Ex-pat Newlyweds

To say Berlin is historic doesn’t quite fit. Berlin is shaped by its history. From a cosmopolitan city to a city divided by a scar of rubble to its reunited self: the evidence is everywhere. Germany has been praised for remembering its sordid past and opens its doors for visitors to be reminded of it in hopes that history does not repeat itself.

Living in Berlin today is living history. This year marks the 20th anniversary of the fall of the Berlin Wall, but any given year is the anniversary of some great happening here. Last Tuesday, May 12, happened to be the 60th anniversary of the end of the Soviet blockade to East Berlin.

During the years of a divided Germany, Berlin wasn’t the border. West Berlin was an island of Western Germany surrounded by East Germany. To go from Cologne to West Berlin, one had to travel through East Germany and go through two border check points to get to West Berlin. The Soviets weren’t so fond of the island of Western influence right in the middle of its territory, and in an effort to gain control over it, on June 24, 2948, blocked rail and road access to Berlin. What followed was the Berlin airlift, in which 200,000 flights that provided 13,000 tons of food daily, for the next year over Tempelhof Airport.

Victory was declared May 12, 1949.

Fast forward 60 years: Tempelhof Airport has ceased operations October 30, 2008. Commercial traffic has been going through Berlin’s other airports, Tegel and Schönefeld. As a result Tempelhof is a giant lot right in the middle of the city and they’ve opened it up to the people once again, but as a way to remember the relief it provided more than 60 years ago.

It was a Tuesday, so I was alone but I hopped on my bike and pedalled the eight kilometres to the airport with camera in hand. It was mostly a lot of old people, veterans who told their stories and children who sang their songs. And I took a lot of pictures.

The water tower at the end of the airport. The whole tarmac was open for people to walk around on. On the left, you see the hangars for the U.S. Air Force.

Empty halls inside the airport. The spaces were mostly open that day but few people ventured through the old passageways that took you to your boarding gate not so long ago.

Crowds of people under and around the plane that stood on display for the day.

This little airplane got stuck at Tempelhof. The owners didn’t remove it before the closure, and now it’s permanently grounded at the airport. That sucks.
The inside was busy and full of people. Here, a former U.S. Air Force captain shared his experiences with the people in participating in the Berlin air lift, where a plane was landed at Tempelhof every 30 seconds with a delivery of supplies. You may also recognize this from “Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade.”
The check-in counters made good seats.

As did the old luggage carousel. I loved that the signs that said “do not sit on the luggage carousel” were still on there. Also: I was really tempted to slide down where the luggage came up from, but I was worried I wouldn’t make it out.
Looking out onto the tarmac from the hangar. At one time, Tempelhof airport was the largest structure in the world.
Uhh.. I wonder what these guys do?

As always, you can click on the photos for a bigger version.

Some of you may have heard us talk about “the front yard”. We are fortunate enough to live across the street from a beautiful little park with a playground on one side, a market place in the middle and a grassy patch on the other side. Our lazy Mother’s Day Sunday has us planted here for now, lazing on the grass as the sun shines down over our backs. Thankfully (for me at least), our apartment is close enough that we even have WiFi in the front yard! Hence being able to blog this as we sit here.

Yes, that’s our apartment building in the background!

Happy Mother’s Day to Mom/Vera and Mom/Gisela!

There is an interesting smell I’ve never encountered before we moved here. It’s a horrible smell. It permeates the buidlings. It floats around the neighbourhood. It permeates windows and lingers. Oh does it linger. It’s probably carcinogenic.

It’s a car. A car that has been set on fire.

Usually the car is of luxury brand, typically a Mercedes but every now and then, it’s a Porsche or a BMW — cars crafted by hardworking Germans — parked on the street (there is little else where to park) and set ablaze by some one wanting to make a statement. Usually, it’s in protest against gentrification. With Berlin becoming a vibrant European centre, there is a lot of that here. Those who can’t afford the rents of anywhere else, come to Berlin. Rent in the capital is cheap but it rises with a neighbourhood’s popularity. Neighbourhoods are initially popular because they are cheap. Eventually it’s because of the services that move to these cheap neighbourhoods to capitalize on all the people living there.

This leads to what the average car-torcher is angry about: gentrification. And as the economy gets worse, jobless numbers increase and more cars get torched. Google Maps even keeps track of when and where these cars get burned at http://www.brennende-autos.de/ — all 328 of them and counting.

… Sort of.

Josh’s parents had a memorial for Oma on Sunday afternoon. We didn’t quite make it through any airports, but we did what we could to partake.

Thanks to Skype, we were able to have a little presence at the memorial at Josh’s parents’ house yesterday. At 11:30 p.m. (our time), we connected and were carried through the house on the laptop, waving hello at the friends and family. We got a spot on brother-in-law Jared’s lap as Josh’s uncle, mom and sister made speeches in memory of Oma.

This is the hardest part of being here.

Josh’s Oma passed away on Wednesday. There is little else but cliches now. You go through the motions of hearing the news and passing it on in a haze of grief. We say our good byes, recite our memories and shed tears. For Josh and I, we can only do it together, because that’s all we have here.

When I first met the Devins family, I met all of them. It was an on-slought of Devinses, and van Hartes. It was overwhelming. Josh is close to his family and I may have been the first girlfriend brought before them and they may be small, but loud and not to be underestimated. The first dinner I had at their house was Chicken Mirabella with fresh pineapple for dessert and Oma ate her’s with Kecap — Indonesian sweet soy sauce.

It wasn’t long after that when I was introduced to Indonesian food. Thanks to Sate Satu (people! eat there!), I was in love — with the food that is. Josh was introduced to Indonesian food through his grandparents, who grew up in Indonesia, only to move back to Holland when the country gained independence.

Food defines most of my relationships with the people we know. The rituals we have, all revolve around eating. When people get together, it’s always under the pretense of food/drinks and never just a good conversation and quality time. Over the years, my relationship with Oma came to be defined by the muffins that tagged along on every visit, and I loved that she would open the bag right away and test one while they were still fresh. My memories with her are over Thai and Indonesian dinners, and that first one of pineapple and kecap.

We’ll miss Oma and being far away, it’s easy to be sad but harder to face reality. When we go back and visit, see that she’s not there, it will be a second round of grief, but at least we’ll be with family.

Love and miss you all.