Men's Day 2015 Part 1

In Germany, Father's Day is celebrated by all men. It's actually called "Männertag" (Men's Day) and falls on Ascension Day; the day that, according to Roman Catholiciscm, Jesus ascended to Heaven after His resurrection. Fun fact for those of you who are wondering: this tradition dates back to the eighteenth century when prizes were awarded to fathers after Ascension Day parades in rural areas.

Men who are fathers generally spend the day with their families. Men who are not fathers use it as an excuse to go day drinking and get wasted, then continue drinking into the night whereupon they are shitfaced around 5 am.  It's a national holiday and always falls on a Thursday, so naturally everyone takes Friday off as well and the streets can be fairly chaotic.

This year, Mario would be spending the day with his friend Olli. I am good friends with his girlfriend, Jenny, so she and I decided to have our own girls' day. We ate breakfast together around 11 am, and then the boys left to celebrate "being a man." Meaning having their first drink around 11:30, and many more thereafter.

She suggested that we go to a couple art galleries. A quick check online and we were on our way to Alexanderplatz. In the Ubahnhof we saw our first sign of Männertag: a group of 5 or 6 guys dressed like Superman. They had rigged up a little kid's wagon as a portable bar, decorated with Superman's red and blue colors and logo, and had speakers playing the Superman movie theme. It was pretty elaborate and also funny as hell. They kept doing the Superman pose as if they were flying, one fist in the air.

The gallery turned out to be closed, so we poked around at a Flohmarkt (a flea market) and headed to Museum Island, a clustering of diverse museums here in Berlin. You can buy tickets for each individual museum or, if you are a tourist and want to get your money's worth, you can buy a master ticket and spend the whole freaking day wandering around looking at old stuff.

On the way there we stopped to drink a beer. I had my wine and sipped it a bit while sitting on a park bench and pretending to be asozial, one of those day-drinking rednecks who hang out in front of Spätis (corner stores, very popular here in Berlin). We were right on a major tourist pathway between sights so I got a lot of funny looks. Mission accomplished.

We headed to the Pergamon Museum, which is cool because it has several huge displays including the Ishtar Gate from Babylon, which is a towering beautiful blue tribute to one of the greatest cities of the ancient world; the Market Gate of Miletus, which is a dominating two-story high, 30m wide monument; and the Mshatta Facade, an intricate palacial facade of an ancient desert castle in Jordan.

http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/f/f6/Pergamonmuseum_Ishtartor_05.jpg

Mario was writing us periodically with updates so that we [aka Jenny] wouldn't worry. She kept saying things like "I wonder what the boys are doing now," and "I wonder what the boys are doing now." It seemed like they were just hanging out at our apartment drinking and Olli was singing and playing the guitar. He's quite good at it for someone who is self-taught, and it's his biggest passion. We sent them a few pictures too.

Men's Day Fun - Olli (L) and Mario

Sophistication and Culture - Girls' Day at the museum

I am someone who can appreciate museums, but I do have my saturation point. I have to see the coolest stuff first because once I reach that point, I am just wandering around staring at more old stuff instead of appreciating it for how cool it is. I also have persistent lower back pain, compounded by too much time on my feet, so by the time we left the museum my back had fused into one grinding ache.

We went to Dolores, a California-Mexican restaurant. I had no idea that Dolores referred to the Dolores in San Francisco. The walls were plastered with blown-up street maps of the Dolores Park and Mission neighborhoods of the city. I stared at the maps, reliving my memories in that glorious city. The walking tour with my brother that we had to cut short because the poor guy's foot was fractured and he couldn't stand to walk anymore; the day in the park with my cousin, when a guy randomly brought out DJ equipment and was spinning tunes while strangers gathered around and had a mini-dance party, sharing weed and throwing beach balls around; the towering hills rising out of nowhere, making you feel like you were on top of the whole world as you stared down at the entire city... I was nostalgic but Jenny was unimpressed, so instead of blabbing on about SF I just stuffed my face with my vegan burrito bowl, feeling like a cow as twig-sized Jenny picked at her salad.

With our early dinners down the hatch, we headed to a nearby art gallery Jenny had seen online. She's an aspiring photographer and loves going to those things. It was.. Interesting. Very tiny, with only 12 or 13 exhibits crammed into a single small room filled with people. One of the pieces of "art" looked like someone had dug up metal chain link fence posts, painted them pink, and badly taped pieces of paper with Sinhalese writing on them. No joke. The concrete was still on the bottom of the posts. We moved around the room and Jenny gave me her artistic opinion on the art, which ranged from a picture of a man holding a mirror and looking at himself to abstract colors on canvas. There was also a painting of skeletons walking to a funeral, most of whom looked old and somber in pinstriped suits and bowling hats. They had normal bodies and hands, just skull heads. One was even in a wheelchair. And then towards the end there was this sassy voluptuous blond skeleton in a super short skirt and huge boobs, carrying a skull under her arm. Unfortunately there were no explanations of the art, so Jenny and I amused ourselves trying to explain what the heck was happening in this picture. My theory was that the bombshell skeleton was the mistress of the rich old skeleton who died and that's why she was prancing her way to the funeral. But who knows, really?

The room quickly filled up to the point that there was no more room, and we had already done our tour, so we squeezed past the artsy hipsters who were chatting with people like they knew everyone already. They probably did. There was a small camera crew outside interviewing the artists and we stopped to listen for a few minutes, but Jenny could see that I was itching to sit down so we headed back to her apartment for tequila sunrises and girl talk.


Stay tuned for Part 2! It involves a weekend stay in a hospital, 8 stitches, and ruined bloody clothes!

The park that never ends - Tempelhofer Feld

This weekend my friend Jan was visiting from Hamburg. Because the weather had finally taken a turn for the better, we ventured out to a new part of the city for me: Tempelhofer Feld.

bz-berlin

As I mentioned before, Berlin is 44% park. After going to Tempelhof, I can see where 43% of that green space comes from. If you've flown into Berlin before 2008, you might have a different view of Tempelhof -- the view from inside the terminal. Yes, that's right -- the park is an AIRPORT.

It officially opened its doors in 1923, and was named Tempelhof after the Knights Templar who made it their stomping grounds waaaay back in the day. It was busiest from 1938-1939. Not surprising.

wikipedia

pressechronik

Tempelhof was closed in 2008 in an attempt to centralize air traffic in Berlin and make Schönefeld the main airport. At the time, there were 3 airports in opposite corners of the city -- not good for noise pollution, and probably making air traffic controlling a nightmare.

The airport remained unused except for the occasional tradeshow or fair, which were held inside the hangar.  The rest of the time, the huge space was left untouched. So, instead of expensive development projects, in 2010 Berlin decided "What the hell, let's just make it a park."  In true lazy Berlin fashion, everything was left exactly the same -- they took down the barbed wire on the fence around the airport and put up a sign saying that it's a park, and that's about it.  The airport itself remains, and the hangar continues to be used for trade shows and raves. There was actually a rave that day, and the thumping bass of the techno rolled over the park from the hangar.  Nevermind that it was 4pm -- when Berlin parties, it's a weekend-long affair, sunlight be damned.

bz-berlin

In addition to the ravers in the cavernous hangar, day-living Berliners were rollerblading, kiteboarding, and biking on the runways and picnicking on the grass. Tons of people lugged little portable grills out with them and were roasting various kinds of meat and sausages à la Germany.

pollimagazin

tempelhoferfeld.info

There are some important lessons I learned about visiting Templehof, which I will share with you in case you ever get the chance to visit it in the hopes that you will learn from my mistakes:

• We were meeting a group of Jan's coworkers who also happened to be in Berlin this weekend. They arrived before us, and we mistakenly thought we could just give them a call and meet up. No way, Jose. We forgot to take into account one very important factor: the park is a freaking airport. After walking all over Berlin earlier that day, we were looking forward to sitting down and resting our tired feet. We arrived at the park..and had to walk almost the entire length of the thing just to get inside the nearest entrance. And THEN, once inside we were confronted with the massive airfield. We wandered around for a while, moving from one picnicking group to another and finally realized that we could do this all day and never find them. Using Whatsapp, his friends showed us their location in the field. And we realized that they were clear on the other side of the park, a good 40 mn walk away. I actually stopped to sit and eat an apple for some quick energy. According to runningmap.com, we walked 2.36 miles -- just to get to where his friends were. Lesson learned: plan where to meet and enter the park through the closest gate.

Our journey to find Jan's friends

• The weather was super nice and sunny, so we dressed accordingly -- short sleeves, etc. Years of living in San Francisco taught me to be prepared for everything, since going from one neighborhood to the next block often meant a drop of 10+ degrees and a wall of fog. I quickly learned to always bring a light jacket with me. Inside Berlin the buildings block most of the wind, but the huge expanse of Templehof is devoid of buildings. Chilly winds constantly swept across the field (probably why it's so popular with kite skaters) and I was constantly pulling on my jacket and taking it off -- even sometimes wishing I had brought a heavier one with me. Lesson learned: wear layers, regardless of how warm it is in your neighborhood.
• The bathrooms are real bathrooms - full plumbing, stocked with paper, and even a cleaning lady. It's a nice change from the bushes that most European parks provide. HOWEVER.. I may have mentioned earlier that the park is huge. This therefore means that bathrooms are about a mile away from each other. How do you find one? Look for where lots of people are camped out with their little portable bbqs, and then hike for half an hour. Lesson learned: park your picnic close to the bathroom, or go when you see one -- you never know when the next one will come around.
• One of Jan's friends brought his dog along. The dog was some kind of hound mix, big but so chill -- off leash he just sniffed around and hung out. And then he got the idea of exploring on his own while the owner was chatting away. No harm done, just some wandering and sniffing. But all of a sudden we heard a yell and a whistle, and two park officials came over wearing bright orange windbreakers. I didn't get everything but it was obvious that the dog was not welcome and should be kept near us at all times. "Clean up all this when you leave, too," they added for good measure, indicating our picnic supplies and beer bottles. Then they stalked off to rain on someone else's parade. Lesson learned: keep your dog nearby, no matter how well behaved. Or else you'll be given a stern scolding from the Park Patrol.

tempelhoferfeld.info

All in all it's a really unique place -- where else can you rave inside an airplane hangar and rollerblade on a tarmac on the same day? The huge, flat expanse of the park ensures that there is more than enough space for everyone, but is not for the mobility-impaired. Unless you are sticking to the tarmac, in which case you are golden. Just be sure to come prepared and park yourself in the right place, with an eye out for the Park Police.

Playing the Tourist

Today was a good day. A really good day. I played the tourist, but it was with good company, so it's an acceptable evil. Have I mentioned before that I despise tourists?

Woke up around 8 to sound of World War 3 in the kitchen, aka my roommate unloading the dishwasher. I don't even mind it -- I could have be living with a slob instead of the tidy Italian. The noise is more like a friendly alarm clock than an annoyance.

I had some coffee and studied German for a while and ate Speisequark (the Greek yogurt on crack) mixed with a perfectly ripe nectarine and some nutmeg. I found a good house DJ on Soundcloud, Der Hausjunkee. The sun was shining merrily outside and I don't work tomorrow because of Memorial Day. It was already shaping up well.

Around 1 Dingens messaged me and asked what I was up to. At that exact moment I was laying on my couch singing, a pastime that I am sure pleases my roommate to no end but is something I love to do when the mood strikes. Don't judge me. I can't sing in the car anymore, gotta get my fix somehow and on the U Bahn surrounded by emotionless Germans doesn't seem quite right.

Anyway, I mentioned that I was going for a walk later. Dingens asked if I'd like to meet him and go for a walk in Tiergarten, a sprawling park close to his apartment. I'd never been, and time with Dingens is always time well spent, so I rushed to get ready and out the door in time to meet him punctually, per German custom. Dingens is from West Germany, not Berlin, so he is painfully punctual.

True to form, he was waiting for me on the Sbahn platform. We meandered through the park, which was crowded with people enjoying the weather. It really is lovely, with tree-lined canals filled with rented rowboats. People were picnicking along the banks wherever they could find a sunny spot of grass. I made a joke about German nudity, and sure enough a short while later we came upon a sunny meadow filled with naked people sunning their buns. It reminded me of Castro in SF, back when nudity was legal.

Tiergarten

Rental rowboats

Statues everywhere

We made our way past the President and Prime Minister's homes. Both were large, stately buildings that looked more like the White House than a home. I was surprised at how low the security was--only a small iron fence and a guard house with just one man at the gate protected the buildings.

Schloss Bellevue

From there we made our way to the Siegessäule, Berlin's Victory Column. It's an imposing monument set in the middle of a multi-lane roundabout, a tall column crowned with a shining gold statue. Originally created to commemorate the Prussian victory in the Danish-Prussian War of 1864, the column was augmented with the statue after subsequent victories in the Austro- and Franco-Prussian wars. It also stood in a different part of the city, but the Nazis moved it to its current location closer to the Brandenburg Gate. It survived the war with minimal damage, but the smooth marble is pockmarked with bullet holes.

Siegessäule from above

Siegessäule from the park

Murals on the lower balcony

Bullet holes, courtesy of trekearth.com

The tiny, winding staircase seemed to go on forever but the view of the city from the top was magnificent and completely worth the climb. Once we got to the viewing deck, Dingens kept up a running commentary on which buildings were important. It struck me how un-European Berlin looks. Normally there is an "old" section of the city, filled with red-roofed buildings clustered by a river. Newer buildings surround that section, and industrial sections pop up in the fringes.

In contrast, Berlin is a hodgepodge of everything. It's a sprawling city, more like a smaller version of LA than Paris. Old buildings which survived the war are mixed in with ugly 70-era square architecture from rebuilding, and modern marvels are dotted here and there along with smokestacks from random factories and power plants. Expanses of green parks give some relief from the crazy mix of buildings. Dingens shared matter of factly that "44% of the city is made up of parks, which is one of highest ratios of any city in the world."

View from the top, on a cloudy day. TV Tower, Berliner Dom, and Brandenburger Tor are visible

We headed back downstairs -- much easier than going the opposite way -- and headed towards the German Parliament building, the Reichstag. We stopped on a bridge and watched the never-ending line of tour boats float underneath us, waving to a few of them to show that Germans can be quite nice after all. They were all too happy to wave back, even snapping some pictures.

tour boat cruising by the Berliner Dom

We went to the Brandenburger Tor next. Lines of carriages and very bored horses waited for tourists. Dingens shared that he's always wanted to take a carriage ride, but we both agreed that a snowy winter day would be ideal. The poop bags would be too smelly on a warm day like today. One of the horses started peeing as if on cue.

Brandenburger Tor (Brandenburg Gate)

Bored ponies. I pet one of them and barely got a blink.

We sat on a bench and people watched. We tried to guess nationalities from clothing styles and talked about random things while soaking up the sun and making fun of the tourists. I always ask a lot of questions and today was no different. He answered all of them thoughtfully like a good German, pausing for a moment before responding.

After the crowd started to thin around 6 we got a couple of cappuccinos at Alexander Platz, a small restaurant/shopping center/movie theater with some impressive architecture.

Not a bad location for a coffee

 Unfortunately we were bombarded with a looping trailer for Blended. Correct me if I'm wrong, but trailers normally showcase the best parts of a movie, right? If those were the best 3 minutes of the movie they could put together...Doesn't bode well for the film overall. Made a mental note to NEVER watch it. Just one viewing of the trailer was sufficient. I think maybe being stabbed with a butter knife might have been preferable to a looping half hour of the trailer.

When we could take it no more, Dingens and I headed back to the nearest S Bahn station. We said our goodbyes and I headed back home on the warm U Bahn that smelled slightly of human sweat. This is a bad omen, as it wasn't even really warm today. Note to self: buy a bike to avoid the cesspool of public transport BO funk that is certain to accompany summer.

Normally I am dead-set against doing touristy things, but with such amazing weather and company it was OK. I was actually really happy to see a different part of the city