Die Deutsche Diary -- All the other days

Checkpoint Charlie, the Allied Forces checkpoint for crossing back and forth between East and West Berlin between 1945 and 1989.

Sean and I and a really tall soldier at Checkpoint Charlie. He's no longer needed for military purposes, of course, and is used solely for decoration. If you look closely at the sign on his coat, it says "Pictures - 1 EU." Yes, we paid to stand there and take our own picture. Capitalism at its finest.

I know it's hard to see, but this is a picture of an aerial shot of Berlin just after the end of WWII. The city was 70% destroyed.
















Back in the '90's, the following phrase was a common one on Saturday Night Live: "And that just goes to show, Germans love David Hasselhoff." NOW I understand what they were talking about. He single-handedly helped dismantle the Berlin Wall!

I know, I know. It's crass. We don't even use the word "fart" in the Sundwall house. But some things are just funnier in a foreign language. :)

It became very obvious early in our trip that everyone has a German Twin. I saw Heather Mather's twin, Deborah Barnard's twin, Drew Barrymore's twin, and here, in all it's bronze glory, is Joseph Smith's twin. Seriously, isn't the resemblance uncanny?! (I think this guy's name is Heinrich Heine. He was a Jewish scholar of some sort.)

Sean and the hot dog. He was so excited to find a 5-foot tall smiling replica of his favorite processed meat product.

Me in front of the palace of Sophie Charlotta. It was amazingly beautiful, but cameras were prohibited inside so you're only getting the exterior flavor.

The Holocaust Memorial takes up an entire city block in downtown Berlin. There are hundreds of these solid concrete coffin-shaped pillars, some tall, some short. It's very humbling.

The Russian Memorial for all Russian soldiers who died during WWII. Although 3,000 of those soldiers died trying to raise the Russian flag atop the ruins of the Reichstag building per Stalin's orders. Great guy, that Stalin. A real humanitarian leader.

The rebuilt Reichstag. Hitler "accidentally" burned down the original. Everything in Berlin is "rebuilt."

The largest remaining remnant of the Berlin Wall. I was surprised by how short it was. This portion is on the site of what is called, "The Topography of Terror," which includes the remains of the Gestapo and SS Headquarters (really nothing more than the basement cells; everything else has been destroyed). The site is something of an outdoor museum, a walkway with huge placards describing in detail the key players and events that were associated with the Gestapo and SS.

The basement cells of the Gestapo. Used primarily for solitary confinement, torture and intimidation of anyone resisting the Nazi regime.

This is an amazing story. Near the end of the Jewish roundups in 1944, two thousand half-Jewish men and Aryan men who were married to Jewish women were rounded up and taken to a recreation center on this site with the purpose of being deported to concentration camps for annihilation. The wives and children of these men, who'd had enough of the Nazi's reign of terror, gathered at the site where the men had been detained and beat with pots, pans and various other items on the walls and doors of the center, demanding that their men be returned. The SS, who were at this point in the war somewhat concerned about turning public opinion against them, released the men to their wives and children. This memorial is a depiction of the women and children demanding the freedom of their men. The fearless, fed-up reaction of these women and children serves as a profound reminder of why it is so important to never give up or give in.

This is the exterior of the Pergamon Museum. It's stuffed with countless antiquities from the Pergamon Era, which I believe was set in Turkey somewhere. Anyway, if you're into Greek Gods and Myths, this is a definite must-see in Berlin. A few too many naked statues for my liking, but hey, it's history. :)

A chunk of one of the walls of the Pergamon. I got in trouble several times by museum security for touching stuff. It's easy when you play the roll of Stupid American Tourist. But it was worth it; I'm very tactile!!

Sean on the steps of the Pergamon. I call this one, "Small man on big stairs."

This is a coffin with the story of Medea and Jason etched on it. If you're ever feeling like a bad mom, look up the story of the Greek Goddess Medea. She was a very bad mommy.

Seriously. Can you imagine being the poor sucker who had to pose for this piece?

This was perhaps one of the most touching sites we visited. Inside a huge mausoleum-like building sat this statue of a grieving mother and her dead soldier son. The Soldier Memorial was built in remembrance of all those who died serving Germany. That it is covered in snow added to the solemnity and sadness.

The Maserati Begatti. Mmmmm. I was itchin' to test-drive this puppy on the Autobahn. Sadly our only Autobahn experience was in a double-decker tour bus on icy roads going speeds that would have been illegal in any other country. :) And I lived to tell the tale. A miracle.

I have one post left regarding our Germany trip, a recap of sorts, and then I'll return to my normal posts of quirky children and housewife lamentations. Bye!

Die Deutsche Diaries -- Day Four

Part I - Afternoon at the Hamburgmuseum
(Yes that's all one word. Germans are painfully practical; why waste a perfectly good "space" between words if you can get your point across equally as well by mooshing the two words together? Isn't this obvious to anyone but the Germans?)

I'm admittedly embarrassed by the poor quality of my pictures, but there are three factors to take into consideration: 1) my fingers are permanently numb due to the cold and I had trouble adjusting the settings on my little Sony Cyper-shot point and shoot, 2) I have no editing software on my notebook computer and 3) I rarely get a good shot of anything. :)

After a reflective morning at the Neuengamme Concentration Camp museum and memorial (which I'm still mentally digesting; I'll write about it later), we opted for some comic relief at the Hamburgmuseum. Since the chances of you getting here before the next big catastrophe to wipe out much of Hamburg hits (they're about due, I believe), I thought I'd give you a sampling of some of the sites I enjoyed today myself.

This headless statue is what is referred to in museum circles as "spot fillers." The dialogue surrounding placement of such specimens goes something like this:
Otto the Curator: "Again?! You knocked the head off of another perfectly good nameless 15th century statue, Wilhelm? Okay, okay. Let's see. There's an open space we need to fill between Useless Pottery from the Gothic Era and Empty Snuff Cans from the Haseatic Pirate Fleets of the 1600s. Just stick it there."

Here's a fun little piece from the WWII showcase. As mommies, don't we often wonder what we, along with our offspring, would look like wearing coordinating gas masks and matching pumps?

First male cross dresser, circa 1490. I think the extensions are a bit much, but to each their own.

It's a little known fact that pygmy hippos roamed the streets of Nazi Germany until an unfortunate outbreak of West Elbe Virus wiped them out completely. Long live their memory.

Who says European artists and musicians never had any fun? Look at this silly little bloke. They say he was a hoot, telling jokes while pounding out a mean concerto on the clavier.

Here's another little known fact (a serious one this time). Carl Philipp Emanuel Bach was Sabastian's son. Carl composed one of my favorite pieces, "Solfegietto," but now when I play it I'll have the visual of his not-so-comely portrait in my head.

This here is the first runner-up in the 1346 Ms. Hamburg pageant. She slipped into first place when the winner contracted the bubonic plague and died suddenly.

(I obviously just made that up. Don't go spreading rumors; pageant queens hate that sort of thing).

I think every modern nation claims to have invented the scuba suit.

It's a little too soon yet, but when Kate draws closer to her 16th birthday, I'm going to start watching eBay auctions for this little beauty. Wouldn't she just like smashing on Prom night bedecked in layers of rose organza???

I'd put money on the fact that at some point in the long history of this massive apothecary wall unit someone has said something like this: "I know it's in here somewhere..."

An early souvenir speciman from Disneyland, dated 1491. They sure have come a long way with their design schemes and color pallets, eh?

What wouldn't you give to have this sassy little chap adorning your fireplace? Look at the hand on his hip and the flirtatious belly shirt. Mmm, mmm, good.

Ancient Pop Tart. This ain't no replica, honey. This here is the real deal.

Those goofy Romantic Era wood carvers. So playful and yet so skilled.

This one is titled "Fun with Skulls and Spikes."

What kind of deformity must you have to warrant armor like this? Or could it be that they actually sent pregnant women into battle?? I smell a cover up...

While admitting that my German is very spotty, I think I have this translation down (see verbage above statue): "Statue of a sitting guy who is cranky because he has syphilis."

And lastly, I have always loved the thought of having my own family crest. I do believe my family's would look something like this one, which I believe depicts the higher owl playing a practical joke on the lower owl by doo-dooing on his head. My boys would so totally have been into that if they had been born as owls with family crests.

Die Deutsche Diaries -- Day Three

Monday February 8, 2010

Neither Sean nor I could sleep past 4am Hamburg time, so he went for a run in the bracing cold while I did some research online regarding local WWII sites, then tried unsuccessfully to get my workout vid to boot up on Sean’s laptop. I hit the loosely defined fitness center and spent 20 minutes on a lopsided upright cycle (think Pee Wee Herman on his wacky unicycle) before bailing and running stairs in the hotel.

We headed out around 8:30 and found a bakery (bakeries are like Starbucks here; Germans love their bread) and warmed up while eating, then wandered the streets of the district that we’re staying in. I’m admittedly mildly disappointed with the fact that we’re in such a cosmopolitan area, especially since Mondays in Europe are a day off for most of the tourism industry. It’s city block upon city block of shops and restaurants. I just want to get to the good stuff! Tomorrow…

We did manage to get into the city’s parliament building. It’s called the Rathaus, which is quite applicable due to the well-known fact that politicians are often referred to as rodents. The structure itself is massive and beautifully ornamented.

Inside the main lobby was an impressive collection of display boards with photos and documents ranging from the years 1905-1950. I dug deep into my depleted treasury of German vocab in order get a small gist of some of the material. (I took German for four years in high school and college but lost it all when I learned Korean. Even now the few phrases I can recall in German come out in Korean when I try to speak. Drat.) Alas, I was able to only make out a few things and turned to Helmut, the non-attentive sentinel on duty, for some help. I asked if they had any literature in English explaining the information on display. Nicht, he said. Drat again.

Sean and I managed to find a double-decker bus tour that was operating and we hopped on around noon just outside of the massive Central Station in the center of Hamburg. It was built specifically for the Emperor at the turn of the 19th century. I hope he shared it a lot, because it was really too big for just one guy.

We spent the next two hours touring around the greater Hamburg area. It has some amazing buildings and ports. We also saw the area in which Brahms was born. Most of the architecture is post-WWII, but they have reconstructed several churches and government buildings to duplicate (quite impressively) buildings that were destroyed in the war.

We then came back to the room and I fell into a deep sleep reminiscent of a coma. We then headed out for dinner at a restaurant called “Parlament.” It resides in the lower level of the Rathaus. The authentic German food was to die for. I ate my weight in sauerbrauten. I also got a huge kick out of Sean's interaction with the waitress during the course of our meal. I think her name was Janine, but she came across more of a Bertha. She was fairly good at English, but was utterly confused by Sean’s food choices, especially concerning the amount. She kept telling him “no no,” and shaking her head as she walked away, scribbling on her notepad. Apparently, after sizing up his small frame, she was entirely sure he could never eat everything he had ordered. When he asked for seconds on his plate of bottomless potato pancakes, it sent her into a tailspin; she was completely baffled. She staggered off, muttering to herself. It was wholly amusing to watch. Sean is often the source of much social entertainment for me. It’s one of the very reasons I married him.

I'm out--

Die Rathaus. Look closely. See any vermin? :)

The larger of two lakes in the center of the city. It is completely frozen over. Yes, those are people out there. Not very smart ones, but people nonetheless.

This is the Christmas tree that is put in a small manmade island in the center of the smaller lake every year. It yet remains on its lonely island because it can't obviously be retrieved by boat and no one is stupid enough to walk out there and drag it back!

Um, this is the steeple of a church, but I can't remember which one. Sometimes I feel obligated to take pictures of religious sites. It just seems like the Christian thing to do.

More of the Rathaus. Still no vermin!

Die Deutsche Diaries - Day Two

Sunday, February 6, 2010

International travel observations:
* Korean Air wins for best airline. They have a “Happy Mommy” check-in line.
* There is no possible masculine way to say, “Bon apetit” or “Merci.”
* If “fromage”means cheese in French, does “fromagey” mean cheesy?
* French baby poop smells worse than American baby poop. (At least the French baby that’s sitting in front of us!)
*Customs officials are unhappy people and should be avoided whenever possible. Except when you’re trying to clear customs. Otherwise your trip ends much sooner than you’d planned.

_________________________

After 11 hours of air travel, Sean and I are positioned safely in our hotel in Hamburg. We effectively lost nine hours of the day due to time zone changes, but we’ll get it back upon returning to Seattle, so I see it more as a time “loan” than a time “loss.”

We slept for a few hours upon arrival and then ventured out for some dinner. It is bitter cold here; the wind chill factor is somewhere around 13 degrees Fahrenheit. It conjures up the sensations of frozen snot and the glacial lung condition I was so familiar with during the frigid winter months in Korea. There is an impressive swathe of snow and ice covering the sidewalks (snow removal is obviously optional and not a pedestrian safety concern) and mature patches of ice mark the streets and alleys. The larger of the two lakes in the center of Hamburg is officially frozen over. I took a picture of people walking across it yesterday.

Our hotel is located in a swanky shopping district,which is mildly disappointing. I can see swanky shops in the USA. We walked two blocks east and followed a partially iced-over canal another two blocks south to Jim Block’s, a western-style steak/burger place. Sean wasn’t too excited to dive right into German cuisine on day one, but I know once he gets a taste of schnitzel or sauerbrauten there’ll be no turning back.

It’s bizarre to see the cultural influence the United States has stretched across the modern world. Restaurants, retailers, architecture and particularly entertainment; it’s like the creamer in the proverbial global cup of coffee. It’s pervasive.


Off to bed!

Die Deutsche Diaries -- Day One(aka: the inner workings of a frenzied mind)

Disclaimer: The following content is my mental chatter put into writing (some mindless, some founded on sound thought) and should be considered only as such. I set a goal to chronicle our trip simply in order to exercise my writing prowess a bit. I fear that it's alarmingly out of shape.

Saturday, February 5, 2010

Sean and I are embarking on a nine day trip to Germany. I am so excited! I've always wanted to visit Germany, not only because it's the land of a smattering of my forefathers (and foremothers, rest their souls) but because I have a strong proclivity for German history. And sauerbraten. And all words starting with "sch-," like "schnell" and "schon." I digress.


I'm proud of my lack of anxiety to travel, despite the fact that we're currently hurtling at 585 mph, 36,000 feet above solid ground. I'm not thrilled, however, about being continents apart from my offspring, but duly realize that it's important to part ways on occasion, if for no other reason than to ensure that they fully appreciate me for an entire 4 1/2 hours upon my return. I once heard and frequently quote to myself the following: "Our children outgrow us long before we outgrow them." It's a subtle reminder to my codependent side the importance of maintaining my own life while concurrently guiding them through theirs. And a reminder that I won't always have to clean little fingerprints off of large windows, as eventually their grubby paws will reside elsewhere. How sad.


Back to the flight. The sun is behind us and the clouds are illuminated an eerie electric violet. The terrain below has changed from the ostensibly endless jagged peaks and valleys of the Northern Rockies to the continual flat brown plains of the Canadian inlands north of Saskatoon and Edmonton. I sense the small distance between here and the literal "top of the world." The barren earth is engraved with countless rivers and lakes; I've never seen so many bodies of water so close in proximity. It's as if earth and water battle for dominance. As the plane moves rapidly eastward, the sun is becoming a vague molten flush on the horizon.

Air France gets a two-thumbs-up thus far. Mostly because of the "Your Flight" feature on the individual monitors nested in the seat backs. It's fascinating to watch what the landscape camera reveals. I do believe that God had a great time designing this world. It must have been the supreme creative outlet.


We're now over Greenland and I just used the restroom. I can now say that I have peed over Greenland. Hey, we all need our small claims to fame...


I just watched a period flick reminiscent of "Becoming Jane," entitled, "Bright Star," about the poet John Keats and his unfulfilled love story that ended tragically with his death at age 25. As a poet he only knew fame posthumously; he died believing himself to be a failure. Sometimes it seems those who are teetering on the brink of noteriety need only to pass on in order to achieve it. I'm thinking it's a better route for a poet anyway, or at least for his potential fan base. I'm not sure how society dotes on a living poet, but it surely can't be the same as fawning over cinema celebs or pop divas. I can't imagine flipping on the cell phone light or waving a lighter overhead while chanting emotionally, "A thing of beauty is a joy forever." It just doesn't have the same effect.


A quick stint in Paris and we're headed to Hamburg.