Faces of Berlin

Many of the faces of Berlin are hidden deep under the uncomfortably familiar, serious, and dire grimaces. The moment we stepped outside of the train station, I felt the powerful, unblinking gazes of war, violence and separation. Berlin was branded with the Mark of Cain and it was hard for anybody to look past the ghosts of this city.

As Emma the storm blew over us violent and unpredictable, we walked past the colossal, ugly and powerful Soviet Embassy building –now obviously the Russian Embassy. It was the most unpleasing weather and it was hard to concentrate on anything but the most obvious.

Yet, my eyes caught the glimpses of life..

The people, young and old, seemingly oblivious to both Emma’s vicious touch and Soviets’ dire memory, were there: visible, moving, different, present, colorful, interesting. Life penetrated the atrocious memories of the city as the vivid green of the unyielding life cracks the stones.

In my head there is a map of Europe. Most of the places are still labeled as terra incognito. In the very center, I had marked Berlin with big Medieval letters, hic sunt dracones. Now, instead, it says: “Next time I have to party at White Trash Fast Food”