11/09/09

The 9th of November 2009 was a serious blur. It rained intermittently throughout the day, only to turn into a constant pour at the pinnacle of celebration events. From U-bahn station to S-bahn station, Jason and I hopped around the entirety of the inner-city that day. We began our historic morning at the Schloss Charlottenburg—an elegant palace (“its richly decorated interiors are unequaled in Berlin”)—built to serve as the summer home for Sophie Charlotte, the wife of Elector Friedrich III. We then rushed off to my favorite two-storey Starbucks in Berlin’s Hackesher Markt, and walked to the Berliner Dom—a phenomenal Baroque cathedral with a crypt containing all the famed Prussian/German royalty such as Fredrick the Great and Fredrick Wilhem II. On our way to the church Jason purchased an army-green communist hat—red sickle and hammer pin and all—and needless to say, looked ridiculous ;-). Through the rain, I pulled my sick Comrade along until reaching the Zeughaus—home to the German history museum and my most-anticipated museum visit of the trip. Because it was the 9th, the 10 euro admission was free, and Jason and I were swept back in time to the beginning of German settlements in the 600s AD. Luckily the vast museum complex was set up in chronological order, and my quick stride covered 1300 years in ten minutes. This stride suddenly came to an abrupt halt in 1933 and slowed to a snail’s crawl—reaching 1989 an hour and a half later. These years in Germany—and the inspiration for my love of history—really did affect drastically the course of world events. From WWII and the Holocaust to the Iron Curtain and Soviet repression to the building of the EU and the fall of the communism, the 20th century in Germany is a rollercoaster of historical magnormanty.
Although Jason was feeling increasingly sicker, he pressed on with me to the DDR museum (the Deutsche Demokratische Republik Museum) or basically the museum of East Germany under communism. The museum of course was packed, but no better exhibits to view on this momentous day in German history, right? The whole design of the museum was to depict daily life in the East, and its exhibits were all hands-on. From filmed interviews, and secretive written documents, Jason and I were introduced to the world of the Stasi East German Police, uniform socialist living, and waiting ten to fifteen years to receive a car from the government. Truly remarkable. When we left the museum, it was dark, and a mere 90 minutes separated the normal present from an historic future (maybe not exactly with that much gusto, but still the moment was ripe) ;-).
When Jason and I finally reached Ebertstrasse to make the slow climb toward the Brandenburg Gate, it was already raining. The temperature had dropped to below 35 degrees, and wet German and foreigner alike were pushing their way to the crowded front. And yet…. And yet through a sea of multi-colored umbrellas, a television screen I could barely make out, frozen hands and feet, and a very sick friend, I was part of history. Although a mile of crowds separated me from Britain’s Gordon Brown, France’s Nicolas Sarkozy, Russia’s Dmitry Medvedev, and our own Hilary Clinton, I was there. I could hear their voices dubbed over in German as they gave their speeches; I could see the same light show that they were a part of. Surreality. Even the historic figures of Mikhail Gorbechev and Lech Walesa were present, the latter Solidarity leader pushing down the first wall piece, launching the domino-effect. Jason joined the other thousand arms raised up camera in hand to film this momentous event as wall slab hit wall slab and loud screaming and clapping filled the chilled air.
We were part of Berlin’s history. Berlin’s weather, on the other hand, was part of our history, as Jason and I were the coldest in that celebratory hour than we had ever been before. As soon as the last wall piece came crashing down, Jason and I did an about-face, pushing our way through the crowds and toward our hostel. We turned to see the loud and brilliant fireworks bursting above the city, marveled in their close proximity, and continued walking. There would be no beer or dancing for the two tired historians. The cold drove us home early, but our historic journey to Berlin had been successful. 20 days in Germany, Austria, and the Czech Republic we patiently waited (not really a difficult wait lol) to finally witness 20 years of freedom creatively celebrated. And if anyone ever asks me, “Where were you the night of November 9th, 2009?”, I will promptly respond, “This one goes out to the man who minds the miracles, This one goes out to the ones in need, This one goes out to the sinner and the cynical, This ain't about no apology…” And just as I would reach the climax of my singing fiasco with “We weren’t born to follow!”, I would suddenly stop (as the one who asked the question breathes a sigh of relief), for history is not about Bon Jovi singing in 2009, nor is it about David Hasselhoff in ’89. It is about corrective change, marked by great moments such as tearing down walls or toppling totalitarian regimes. It is about taking the time to reminisce and collectively remember those great moments… And that is when I would say, “On the night of November 9th 2009, I was in Berlin with thousands of others commemorating a great moment…”