Yesterday, May 28th 2016, was the first anniversary of the flight that originally brought me to Berlin. I’d never been to the hipster capital of Europe before moving here, I was freshly back from my year in Hong Kong, and it all seemed very unreal. By extension, today marks the first anniversary of me waking up and thinking: “Holy moley, I’m in Berlin. How did this happen?”
Today, coincidentally, is also the first proper day off I’ve had in a while - since Easter, I have been filling most of my free time with my Master’s thesis, which will hopefully be ready for turning in next month.
So, to commemorate the past year, I decided to reflect upon the question: What is Berlin, and what does it mean to me?
First of all, most people have some kind of an impression of Berlin, even if they haven’t visited the city, and many people have.
The typical impression of someone in their 40’s or older is that of a split city, the Wall, the Cold War, and the tension between DDR and the West. Can’t argue with that, but as someone who was born after the Wall came down, I can’t say these were my most prominent thoughts.
The typical impression of someone in their 20’s is that of a city of rebelliousness, all things hipster, partying at 8 am on Saturdays or indeed at any other time, drugs of all kinds (including artisan coffee), edgy graffiti, and run-down flats occupied by squatters. As someone who doesn’t do drugs, including artisan coffee, and doesn’t rebel against the society and its institutions, this meaning feels equally alien to me.
My truth is something completely different.
Berlin, for me, is a city of freedom and independence. A city of endless possibilities, people from all corners of the world, professional and personal opportunities, fantastic food, neighbourhoods that look like different countries (because they are), delightful and unappetising smells.
It’s a city where many restaurants refuse to serve tap water, and I protest by not tipping.
It’s a city where kids’ playgrounds are covered with graffiti, and nobody cares, because the kids are having a great time. And because many of the graffiti are pretty cool.
It’s a city where nobody cares if you change clothes at a tram stop, or do any other strange thing in public. People of Berlin have seen it all.
The appeal to me, from the start, is that everyone can be however unusual they like. With full respect to the past, this is what my Berlin looks and feels like, for me, right now.
The one thing that everyone seems to agree with, when it comes to this city, is that it’s constantly changing, constantly in flux, and that it’s hard to capture the essence of it in just a few words. I guess that defines Berlin - undefinability. And the fact that most people who move to Berlin don't want to leave.
Yesterday, as I was buying postcards and discussing with the cashier about the ridiculous stamp prices, she suggested to me that I mail them when I get back to my country.
As I replied with the cleverest retort I could think of, I suddenly felt happy that it was true:
“I live in Berlin.”
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