Revised

The gray gravel crumbled beneath my worn out, white shoes as complete silence filled the hot air. People were staring at one direction, squinting, and moving their eyes from left to right. We all walked in a uniform path, never deviating from the line nor going backwards. It was quiet as if we were at a memorial commemorating someone’s death. That was not the case. Boards taller than me lined up down the row facing parallel to the gravel road. There was nowhere else to go except forward as a metal chain-linked fence ran parallel to the other side of the pathway. Images of the Nazis in action were displayed – short fragments of the past. Words that would pop out to me were “Gestapo, fear, death, and Red Orchestra.”

Walk down the street, take a right, and then take a left. I reached what seemed like artwork in public space. Varying sizes of grey blocks covered the plot of land as it went from blocks at ground level to towering blocks in the middle. Walking around through the forest of grey, I felt lost and alone. As I made my way toward the center, the ground started to sink and the surrounding city seemed to disappear. I was isolated and only the grey towers could be my friends. I look forward, back, left, and right yet all I saw was rows of stone, perfectly shaped in columns. I thought it was somewhat odd that one could easily hide himself and, at the same time, someone could easily find me. There was a balance of order and disorder. Order as there were organized rows of towering blocks; disorder as you could still get lost in the sea of concrete. This was a place of memory as the isolation provided time for thought and commemoration of the past.

While my travels in Rome, I learned about funerary art and architecture. Romans often emphasized circling funerary tombs so that memory could keep the buried person alive. This same concept seemed to play a role while I walked up circular and spiraling stairs up to the top of a glass dome. No, there was no tomb, but it did trigger what I knew about Berlin’s history. The climb to the top takes a long time and as I get higher and higher, the room seems to get hotter and hotter. I then would look at the funneling mirrors in the center and I would start to think about my own experiences in Berlin. My first impressions and my first döner would come to mind as I had time to ponder. This may not have been the original intent of the architecture, but through the experiences I had, this structure represented a time of reflection.

It was only fitting that when I got to the top, I saw Berlin as a whole city – the big picture. This is when I realized that I needed to treasure the memories I have had in Berlin; that it is those memories that reflect on the history of Berlin.

Original
Today our focus was on the memorial sites of Berlin. We started off with the Topography of Terror as Toby talked about the Nazi secret police. The thing that stood out to me the most was the Red Orchestra as they were a group that attempted to stop Hitler. I appreciated that they were the underdogs fighting against all odds to stand up for what is right.


Our next stop was the Holocaust Memorial site with varying sites of gray blocks. It is more like artwork than a memorial and without a sign, you would never know. Walking around in the memorial was a surreal experience. It evoked a sense of being lost and alone as I would lose people within the ‘maze.’ My surroundings seem to disappear as I sink into the group and eventually reach a point where all I see is gray blocks that tower over me. I felt that the memorial made me feel alone and even though I could hide, I could also be easily found by people. As I walked through the maze I would wonder if I turned around the corner to see a friend or a complete stranger. You could sense where you were going, but I was questioning who I would come across. Am I being watched or followed? Or am I completely alone? I look for my classmates, and yet I find strangers that seemed to quickly pass by. The memorial definitely had a profound effect on me.


After having a currywurst and fries at a small café near the Brandenburg gate, we got special access to the Reichstag building because Maneula works there. When we reached the dome, I was in awe that the Germans built the roof in such a way that the parliamentary room was cooled completely naturally and did not use up electricity. I thought it was interesting that going up the dome was a circular path. I’ve learned that Romans often emphasized circling funerary tombs so that the person that is buried is always kept alive as a memory. I felt as if by circling above the parliamentary auditorium, I was constantly being reminded of Berlin’s history and all that has happened with the government. As the climb to the top took a long time, I would spend time thinking at the history of Berlin as I get mezmorized by the mirrors that reflect light. As I get to the top, I finally see the big picture as I step outside to see a view of Berlin as the whole city – then I realize that this is what I am suppose to treasure the memories I have had in Berlin and that Berlin history needs to be remembered as it contains a lot of history that has affected the culture of Berliners.