This morning marked the beginning of our last day of tours in Berlin, a very sad thought for me, as I am by no means ready to say goodbye to this group. Today’s adventures really were adventures, complicated by the fact that the Deutsche Bahn’s engineers are on strike for the foreseeable future; while this luckily has not affected the buses, trams, and U-Bahns in Berlin, the S-Bahns (aka the best method of transportation in this city) are affected, forcing us to run through Plans A, B, and C this morning. Our only destination for the day was the Olympiastadion, the site of the infamous 1936 Olympics here in Berlin, which is on the opposite side of the city from Rosenthaler Platz; indeed, we would normally take an S-Bahn for most of this journey, but when we arrived at the Hackescher Markt S-Bahn station this morning, we discovered that the line we needed wasn’t going to come for over fifteen minutes, and would not run the entire way. Instead, we jumped on the next S-Bahn heading west, and changed to the U-Bahn at the Zoologischer Garten for a rather long, slow journey out to the Olympiastadion, the end of the line. Not surprisingly, the U-Bahns and trams were rather more crowded than usual this morning, as everyone in Berlin is making alternate transportation plans, adding to the inconvenience of this strike.
Finally arriving at the Olympiastadion, we approached the Olympic complex as a spectator would have in 1936, and were met by two enormous towers with the Olympic rings suspended between them. One tower has a clock on it, but the other one is noticeably blank, having once had a swastika or other Nazi symbol on it (all of which are forbidden now). Entering the complex, we walked along an avenue lined by stone tablets listing the German victors from each previous Olympic games that led up to a statue of two discus throwers that is an excellent example of Nazi art and ideas about sculpture. Instead of showing the true movement present in athletics, the two discus throwers are incredibly rigid in order to exemplify Nazi ideas about racial strength as represented through physical strength. From there, we proceeded closer to the stadium to look at the original Olympic bell that hung in the clock tower during the 1936 Olympics. This bell has the Nazified German eagle on one side and the Brandenburger Tor on the other, with swastikas along the edge; interestingly, the bell continued to be used after World War II, only with part of the swastika filled in, in order to comply with postwar German laws forbidding display of the swastika. Despite this, however, anyone with eyes can tell that there used to be swastikas on the bell, an example of the ways in which the Nazi past was simply airbrushed over and not deeply dealt with. Indeed, the entire Olympiastadion still practically screams “Nazi” today, in a way that is hard to describe in words, but easier to see in pictures, all imposing stone and massive columns.
For me, the most interesting aspect of the Olympiastadion is the fact that it is still in use today, even with all of its Nazi connotations, as the 1936 Olympics were intended to prove the racial dominance of German athletes; although the stadium is preserved as a historic site, some of the World Cup soccer matches in 2006 were held there and it is the home field of the Hertha BSC soccer team. Thus, people today could theoretically watch a soccer match or other sporting event from the same place that Adolf Hitler opened the Berlin Olympics in 1936. From the Olympiastadion, we walked to the clock tower on the grounds of the Olympic complex, from the top of which you can get a good view over the complex itself and the city of Berlin. The clock tower rises from a larger hall that was originally dedicated to the supposed “self-sacrifice” of young German volunteers at Langemarck in November 1914, both a way for Hitler and the Nazis to put forward their interpretation of the casualties of the First World War and a not-so-subtle hint to the young men of the Nazi period: a heroic, self-sacrificing death is the best death. As for the clock tower itself, the view of the Olympic complex was excellent, but I found it difficult to see anything in central Berlin, except the Alexanderplatz Fernsehturm, without the use of the magnifying telescope.
Following our descent from the clock tower, we grabbed some snacks from the gift shop for lunch, and then began trying to make our way back toward the center of the city. From the Olympiastadion, we walked to one S-Bahn station only to be met by a sign proclaiming “kein Zug verkehr” (no trains), due to the strike; this forced us to walk back to the U-Bahn stop at which we had arrived and was essentially a hike around most of the Olympic complex. Feet dragging, we arrived at the U-Bahn stop to the welcome news that a train was on its way, as I personally did not fancy trying to figure out what transportation Plan C would be, other than cramming all eleven of us into a taxi! While the others decided to head back to the hostel for the afternoon, I wanted to do some more exploring on my own and cross a few more sights off of my sightseeing list. Having only gotten a glimpse of the Kaiser Wilhelm Gedächtniskirche the other day, I decided to return and get a closer look, so I got off the U-Bahn at Wittenbergplatz to walk down the Kurfürstendamm toward the church. Along the way, I saw a man in the process of getting arrested outside of a store, as the police were hauling him away toward their cars; interestingly, this was the first real sign of a police presence that I have seen in Berlin, other than the police patrolling at the train station and the airport. Indeed, on one of our first days in Berlin, I even saw a policeman pose for a picture with a tourist near the Brandenburger Tor, something that would seem quite unusual in the United States, especially right now. At the Kaiser Wilhelm Gedächtniskirche, I explored the Hall of Remembrance, which used to the be the main entrance hall for the church, which was built by Wilhelm II in honor of his grandfather, the first German Kaiser Wilhelm I. Built in a neo-Gothic style, the church was heavily damaged during an air raid in 1943 and left in its ruined state as a memorial to the destruction of war. For me personally, I find the Gedächtniskirche itself quite powerful, evoking the devastation of Berlin in 1945; however, I think that the tower that was built next to the church in the late 1950s and early 1960s detracts from the experience of viewing the church, as it seems to dominate the area and become the center of attention.
From the Gedächniskirche, I walked back to Wittenbergplatz in order to continue my sightseeing; traveling to Potsdamer Platz, I decided to take a chance and ride the S-Bahn down to Anhalter Bahnhof in order to look at the ruined façade of the original Anhalter Bahnhof, the only portion of the train station that survives to this day. Fortunately, luck was with me and I did not have to wait very long for a train in either direction, which was a pleasant surprise, as I was imagining having to wait twenty minutes or more to travel one stop. With regard to the ruined façade of the Anhalter Bahnhof itself, I can imagine that the train station would have been very large and very grand back in its heyday as one of Berlin’s major train stations; however, the façade just looks out of place today, as the space behind it is now a park complex and all around are more modern-looking buildings. In this environment, the last remaining piece of the Anhalter Bahnhof truly looks like a fish out of water, a relic of a Berlin that most definitely no longer exists.
Leaving behind the Anhalter Bahnhof, I made my way back to Potsdamer Platz and then to Stadtmitte, so that I could visit the Gendarmenmarkt, a square that was originally a market and is now the site of the Konzerthaus, the Deutscher Dom, and the Französischer Dom. The whole area has obviously been beautifully restored after World War II and felt quite peaceful to me, although I was not sure if that was because it was a weekday or if it was an actual quality of the area. From the Gendarmenmarkt, I walked down Jägerstrasse to Friedrichstrasse, admiring the architecture as I walked toward Unter den Linden. Once on Unter den Linden, I turned toward the Brandenburger Tor, where I finally studied the Frühling in Berlin open-air exhibit that I have been wanting to see, which is one of five or six open-air installations throughout the city about the end of the war in 1945. After so much walking, I decided that I needed a snack, and so enjoyed a slice of Berliner Apfelkuchen while sitting on a bench near the Brandenburger Tor; if this is being a tourist, I quite enjoy it! From there, I returned to the hostel via U-Bahn and tram, which made for a laborious, but ultimately successful journey, where I relaxed for a couple of hours before dinner. For dinner, we went to the Pratergarten, Ian’s project, which is just up the street from the hostel on Kastanianallee. As its name suggests, the Pratergarten is a beer garden, which to me means that it serves comfort food; indeed, I quite enjoyed my dinner of bratwurst, sauerkraut, and Apfelschorle. While dinner at the Pratergarten was a good farewell to our Berlin trip, I wish it did not have to be farewell so soon! Tomorrow is our last session, and most people begin departing on Friday, although I am staying on until Sunday morning, when I fly to Munich to join my parents. Train strike and all, I will be sad to bid farewell to Berlin, which has really begun to grow on me as a city!
Making the Past Present 