Many years ago on my very first trip to Europe (cheap Iceland Air flight, cheap Eurail pass, cheap youth hostel card, cheap Toblerone), at some point I checked into a charming hostel in Grindelwald, a breathtakingly beautiful village high in the Swiss Alps known for many things including…erratic autumn weather. The day I arrived, it was a warm sunny fall afternoon in mid-October. When I awoke for breakfast the next morning….we were completely snowed in, locked down, unable to move. We stayed this way for three or four or five (I don’t rightly remember) days until the local inhabitants, hardy and practical folks used to this kind of thing, finally plowed a path to the train station and we could all finally depart.
But during those long liminal days of our confinement, the first time in my life that nature had imposed Herself implacably and inflexibly on my own individual and personal schedule, time.stood.still. This was, of course, decades and centuries before cell phones, computers, or any kind of mobile technology. I’m not even sure the electricity was working particularly well at that point, to be honest. All I remember was an extremely motley group of youngish folks sprawled around a giant fireplace in a typically decorated cozy Alpine space, trying to make it through….the seemingly endless void. The best part of the lock-down was listening to a pair of theater students from the University of Akron in Ohio as they acted out their favorite scenes from “The Wizard of Oz,” a production of which they had completed the spring before their year abroad began. “I’ll get you, my pretty……and your little DAWG too…..EH he he he he he he he….EH he he he he he he…..”
Well, you know where this is going. At the moment we’re all in the youth hostel together during and after the blizzard and we all have no frick-frackin’ idea when there’s going to be a path to the train station or when exactly a train might depart to….anywhere. This time around, though, we’re particularly lucky that, thanks to social media, there have been dozens of talented people around the world stepping up to offer us their own versions of The Wizard of Oz. Those of us fortunate enough to have a home, sufficient funds, and a good internet connection have nothing much more to complain about than your basic tedium and some extra pounds. (Of course I am more than aware that this is a very different story for others, and for them I weep and pray.)
Berlin, my adopted city, has stepped up to this challenge magnificently. There has been a lot of clear communication, straightforward guidance on options for health concerns, direct messaging about what to do and not to do, and, thankfully, a rational understanding that people need to get out and about, albeit with safe distancing and all that jazz. I have been using my daily exercise walk to deepen my understanding of my Bezirk (district) of Charlottenburg. Because I am hesitant to spend a lot of time on the u-Bahn (still running, amazingly), I have been walking, walking, walking, and walking but mostly in this smaller space of my immediate neighborhood.
I plan to do a separate blog on the palace located in Charlottenburg (das Schloss Charlottenburg, a fascinating story), but for today let me just note that it anchors the area – and my walks – and was the inspiration for the development of a separate village apart from Berlin back in the day. You have seen it as a backdrop to my posts on the Christmas markets, but here’s a frontal view from this afternoon SANS the romance of fancy night lighting and a huge seasonal festival:
It’s an odd building….very very long and very very thin; I’ll cover it later in greater detail. But it’s a lovely landmark all the same and I doff my hat to her every time I pass.
Today I was struck by most curious marker across the street from the palace – the translation of the words carved it are “1 Mile from Berlin,” an early traffic marker, perhaps? So curious. (Did they have miles back then? When did kilometers show up? Whatev.) But just look at the coal-darkened sections of the pillar – such a contrast to the significantly cleaner air we are breathing these days. This was a dirty town, but then, they were all pretty dirty towns. Maybe we can do better, moving forward.
Moving further down the Strasse, I am just charmed by how the Germans (or perhaps it’s the Berliners) manage to focus a deeper lens on almost every experience. If you’ve seen my Facebook post about the yellow posters, here’s another one. This one reads “Difficult roads often lead to beautiful destinations.” I just (heart) that, but of course it keeps the main message in focus – STAYATHOME:
But, of course, nothing in Berlin can stay too serious for too long. Around the corner, in the window of a local wine shop, I spied this little sweetheart. The translation reads “So I just got a mouth guard:”
Ba da BOOM!
Moving away from the palace and back towards my humble abode, I am fortunate to be able to walk a lovely foot and bike path along the Spree, one of the several rivers that surrounds and supports the city. This photo was taken on the night of the huge pink moon this past week; you don’t see the moon itself in this shot, but the dusk light was incredible:
As you can see from above, the Berliners in my part of town have been pretty fair distancers. I hear it’s different in some of the other neighborhoods, but I’ve been astonished at the level of conscientious discipline on display for the last month or so. But then, as I have said a few times, Berliners got grit. This isn’t the first time things have gotten gnarly around here, and I think there’s almost an unconscious recognition that you can get through almost anything if you put your mind to it. And, again, for many of us, not all, it’s just a matter of trying to manage our time in a way that doesn’t hurt ourselves or others and might even result in some helpful reflection.
Oh, and then there’s cats and naps. Another reason for Gratitude and Catitude. Here’s a shot of Leila helping me spend a few lazy hours in the afternoon in the prone position. Read another chapter, My Human, before you FEEEED me….
Dear ones, we didn’t expect this, we didn’t want this, and we don’t have the slightest clue how life moves forward from this. Perhaps as we are forced into a lifestyle that more resembles the 17th century than the 21st, we will find the mental and spiritual space to envision a world that is qualitatively different and better than the one we left. Maybe there is room for new conceptions of the environment, of justice and security, of how we live our lives on a day-to-day basic. I can only hope. We can only hope. And in the meantime, we can click the heels of our ruby red slippers together three times and recite, “There’s no place like home….there’s no place like home….” Fingers crossed for us all.