Aarron Walter

The World Cup was the big news of the summer here in Berlin, drawing millions of people from around the world to the most watched sporting event on the planet. The final game was held at Olympic Stadium just outside of the city, a place that is amazing to behold, and rich with history. It is probably most famous for the 1936 Summer Olympic games in which Jesse Owens the Nazi party who boasted of Arian superiority over other races including those of African decent. Owens achieved 4 gold medals that year in the sprint and long jump events. A major street in front of the stadium has been named for Jesse Owens to commemorate his achievements.

These games were the first to be televised live, and introduced basketball to the games. In preparation for the games the Nazi party moved all homeless beggars, and vagrants to the first work camps in an effort to prepare the city for the onslaught of foreign visitors. This was a socially acceptable practice at the time as most people saw it as a logical way to make the voluntarily unemployed to contribute positively to society. Of course no one suspect at this time that the people being sent to these camps would be mistreated, and ultimately worked to death.

It’s pretty easy to look back at this as archaic and disrespectful, but the city of Atlanta did something not so different for the 1996 Summer Olympics. The city gave many homeless people one-way train tickets out of the city in an effort to clean the place up. It’s not the same as sending people to work camps, but it is certainly disrespectful.

The stadium is really an amazing place with its new glass awning made just for the World Cup.

Every year Berlin throws one of the most amazing all weekend parties on the planet called the Love Parade. On a one mile plus boulevard called Strasse de 17 Juni that runs from the German Parliament building (the Reichstag) past the Column of Victory, 40 semi trucks loaded with a DJ, massive sound systems, and a truck load of costumed partiers roll by slowly shaking a crowd of 2 million with techno beats. DJs are also stationed at various static locations including inside the Column of Victory itself.

The trucks move both directions down the road, and when they pass by one another their blaring beats compete for attention, sandwiching parts of the crowd between them. The sound waves shake your clothes, and kind of tickle. Even with plugs stuffed in my ears, the music was loud and clear.

Throughout the weekend clubs throw huge parties featuring world famous DJs like Paul Van Dyke starting their sets at around 2AM. People party all night, then head to the parade for more techno and dancing the following day without missing a beat (bad pun there).

Get a taste of the fun in these video clips, which in no way do it justice!

As campaigning is going full tilt in the US, so too is the case here in Germany as candidates prepare for upcoming democratic elections. Persuading the populous to vote for you seems to happen in a much different fashion in Germany than it does in the States. In the US, campaign signs only come in red white and/or blue (evidently better if you include all three), with plenty of stars and stripes, and often the obligatory patriotic b.s. statement that convinces all voters that you are a true, red-blooded American. If a picture is shown, the politician often has some very professional, maybe over-produced shot with stiff hair and a perma-grin. The over all impression it leaves is impersonal, distant, slick, and disconnected to the general population.

Here in Berlin I have been surprised to find most of the political posters to be more human, better designed (using design principles more effectively), and seem to inspire more confidence in the candidate. The photos look human, sometimes a bit unattractive, sometimes in more of a snapshot style setting, but always more like regular people. The designs are simple, and lack the dripping patriotism we see in the US, often opting for colors other than the ones seen in the national flag.

US citizens are as jaded about government now as ever before. I don’t anticipate a miraculous, political reconnection with the needs of voters any time soon, but our politicians would be well served to look abroad in order to understand themselves better.

I did a little shopping today at Hackesche H??fe here in Berlin today. Hackesche H??fe is a group of ultra-hip shops in a series of small, interconnecting courtyards featuring the latest fashion and design from up-and-coming designers. You’ll find fashionistas stitching together couture clothing before your eyes as you shop, funky toyshops, house wares, and amazing shoe stores. I am a big fan of cool shoes that are comfortable, and unique. I find a pair maybe once every two years, and wear the hell out of them. Today I visited Trippen, master cobblers. They make all of their shoes by hand, and tan their own elk, buffalo, and deer leather with vegetable oil using an environmentally concious process. The design is simple and elegant, and the fit is like your childhood baseball mitt.

Wednesday afternoon I caught a flight to Krakow, a city I have been curious about for some time. It maintains an old world feel with its castle, Medieval cathedrals, and the remnants of a city wall with a looming turret. About 1 and a half hour bus ride from Krakow through a primarily agricultural countryside peppered with little villages are Auschwitz and Birkenau in the towns of Oswiecim and Brzeziuka. Though thousands of Poles, Russian POWs, Gypsies, and handicapped people were murdered in these two concentration camps, the greatest number of victims were European Jews from as far as Norway. 75% of Jews who arrived in Auschwitz and Berkenau were killed immediately in the gas chambers. I have always felt it important that I visit these places, maybe to pay my respects or to learn so I might do my part to make sure others don’t forget what happened.

The primary camp is Auschwitz, famous for the cynical sign above its primary entrance that reads “Arbeit Macht Frei” or “Work Makes Freedom”. It was first a military camp before World War I for the Polish army, but after the Nazi invasion of Poland was appropriated and converted into a concentration camp. The irony of this place is it is actually quite beautiful, with its two story barracks of brick (originally 1 story, second floor added by Nazis in preperation for more prisoners), and slender trees (added after liberation of the camp). Its history is anything but beautiful. We learned of stories of maniacal medical experiments on inmates, the initial tests of the killing gas Cyclon B, starvation, hangings, humiliation, and torture. Birkenau is the massive, 425 acre camp that we think of when we hear the word Auschwitz. This is where most of the murders took place, where the trains unloaded thousands, sending nearly all Jews directly to the gas chambers and crematoria on either side of the tracks. The killing chambers famously disguised as showers were dynamited in the last days of World War II by the Nazis who wanted to cover their crimes as the Russian army rapidly advanced and ultimately liberated the camps. There were 40 other camps in the area as well that served the “Final Solution“.

People from around the world were visiting the camps, but it seems for different reasons. Some were there to pay respects, others were satisfying curiosity as if gawking at a car wreck. I saw some snapping photos of their grinning, travel mates in front of the entrance gate or the ominous halt signs with their warnings of death as if they were at Disney world posing with Mickey Mouse. For me this was as hurtful to witness as the relics of mass murder as it defiles the memory victims and their suffering. In the remaining crematoria where thousands of lives were erased visitors were talking casually, even chuckling at their unrelated conversations rather than being present to reflect on what happened in the space.

What I take from the experience is not only the imperative to remember, but also to learn from our past. I couldn’t help but consider Darfur, and Bosnia and wonder how the hell mass genocide could happen yet again. The moral of the story is respect and tolerance for all. To some degree it has inspired some pride in my home country of the USA where millions of immigrants melt into one big pot daily and somehow find common ground in disparate cultures. I also feel shame for our failures and equally dark past in slavery, and racism that persists today.

I sign off with a much repeated statement that sticks with me more now than ever.

“Those who cannot learn from history are doomed to repeat it.”

- George Santayana