Videos von S-bahn

Videos from us being on the S-bahn when we were graced with some entertainment

Tanz mit Jacalyn Carley

I was so excited to be here working with Jacalyn. Any one that really knows me knows that I live to dance. It was so rejuvenating not only for me, but the entire group. The workshop was designed for everyone, not just "technical dancers." Jacalyn gave us a lesson in creative movement, allowing us to let go but still giving us specific movements that we were to lean and perform succinctly. Janet really hit the mark on this one (and many other things we did, but this was where my heart is). It felt so good to move around freely and comfortably in a country we were just getting to know. This really helped me feel at home. Also, learning about Community Dance as Jacalyn testified to the people she's helped gave me the desire to learn and one day become an instructor. She talked about how she's helped students learn discipline who were thought to be ill mannered untamable adolescents. I think Community Dance classes would be great for strengthening people in a city like Detroit where many of the children are having behavioral issues and difficulties adjusting in school. This experience has made me think of new ways to help Detroit, which has always been my passion. I even have a picture of myself looking out the window as I tried to take in every feeling I had at the moment and imagine what Community Dance could do for Detroit. 

-Teryn 

One month later...

     Last night marked the one month anniversary of my first introduction to German theater. On May 9th we saw Theater HORA perform at the Theatertreffen. As many of you already know from reading previous blogs, Theater HORA is more commonly referred to as "disabled theater", given that all the actors in the company have either a mental or learning disability. Although the piece that Theater HORA performed was not my favorite play that we saw in Berlin, it is usually the first one I tell friends and family about when they ask me about theater in Germany.  

     It makes sense, if I was telling my long string of trip anecdotes chronologically, to begin with Theater HORA. But I begin with "disabled theater" for another reason. Theater HORA represents the antithesis to American theater. Theater HORA's composition is unconventional. Its themes are discomforting. Its staging is idiosyncratic. In short, Theater HORA is not afraid to push the envelope. This is not to say that American theater has never pushed the envelope. Rather, the bulk of American theater--particularly mainstream American theater--usually pushes the envelope without crossing over into political incorrectness. Yet, it is only when a play crosses over into the politically incorrect that the public is confronted with the stark realities of life--realities that American audiences usually don't want to address.

     I appreciate Theater HORA because it is not afraid to attack an audience's sense of appropriateness. And although I cannot convey the full meaning any piece of German theater to a friend or family member who asks me about my trip, I believe that "disabled theater" conveys the best message of German theater as a whole: nothing is taboo.

    

Some Pictures and Also How I Love Everyone

I had the opportunity to use the Holga camera-one of the manual cameras Janet bought for us-and got my roll of film printed. I think they turned out pretty well! Here are a few of those pictures:

A church tower exposed over a view of the sky (I think), as well as some text (seen most clearly on the right side) on one of the reverse monuments Carol showed us on her tour. The text is a list of the names of the people in one car within a train sent to a concentration camp. 

A statue I liked - I can't remember where I saw it or who it is. Just another example of Berlin's offhanded and secret beauty-the kind of stuff you just have to stumble upon to see.

A view of the sky above covered by trees with an oasis of light, exposed over an outdoor wall right by our apartment filled with different advertisements - the one that stuck out was "ICH WILL KEINE WINTER MEHR" (or, I don't want any more winter). I like this phrase not only because it is just an interesting request but also because it's not something easily translated into English. The statement loses some of its power and definitiveness in English-one of those things that just makes more sense in German, like Waldeinsamkeit-another word I learned on this trip-which means the feeling of being alone in the woods. 

German is so cool sometimes. 

Well, all the time.

Probably my favorite photo that I took. Just a great view of the always-present Fernsehturm. Whenever we weren't sure where we were in the city, we could always look up and around for the Fernsehturm to get our bearings. 

I've been home for around five days and the luxury of getting to lay around all day and do nothing and eating gross fast food and getting free refills in restaurants is already starting to wear off, and I find myself missing those fast-paced days in Berlin. But more than anything else I miss the group I got to experience it with. Our group, to me, was a perfect one to travel and learn with. We were all open to each other's thoughts and ideas, we respected each other's opinions, we got in debates and appreciated the other's perspective. I felt comfortable sharing my poetry with this group-not something I'm always down for-and when we were exposed to heavy topics like during our tour of Theresienstadt or of the Stasi prison, I could feel us learning together-gaining a more complex and thoughtful understanding of the history we were standing on. 

I remember walking through the Jewish memorial on our very first night, the setting sunlight casting stark shadows across the cement as I brushed my hands along the giant blocks that made up this memorial and thinking, Oh my god, this actually happened. It was the first time the reality of the holocaust had really hit me-where it really actually processed for me that six million people were murdered and that this country has to deal with that remorse every day. I was walking through this labyrinth of stones, darkness descending on the monument, suddenly processing this tragedy and feeling-as the architect of the memorial probably designed-very isolated and alone, when I ran into Janet, also walking through. And I told her how affected I felt, and she said said she felt the same, and suddenly I didn't feel as on-the verge-of-tears, because I had somebody else that I felt comfortable sharing this with. That's what this group was for me-the opportunity to always have someone to talk to, whether it was about your feelings after walking through a former concentration camp, or how you hated or adored one part of a play, or how you'd lost your contact lens and didn't know what to do about it--it didn't matter-someone was always there to listen.

I am so thankful for this trip and for the group I had the opportunity to experience it with.

(It's not everyone, but I love this picture) 

Thank you guys for everything,

Molly. 

My self portrait

My self-portrait is a rock that I found at the location below. We pass by this art piece every day on our way to the Warschauer  Strasse  train station. I choose the rock as my self-portrait for 5 reasons; even know I’d rather have 6 (since it´s a six sided rock).  1. When I think of this rock, I think of the streets in Europe. I think of how every old street is made of rocks like this one. When I think of these streets, I think of walking and exploring. I think of Janet, who loves to walk. I think of Helmut, our  70 year old tour guide, who walks everywhere. I think of walking by myself in Berlin. I think of walking with the group. I think about how my favorite way to explore Berlin is by walking.  2. When I think of this rock, which was once part of the side walk that we walked on every day, I think of all the people who have walked on it before me. Berlin has a long and fascinating history, which is especially visible through the bullet holes in old buildings and the stark architectural differences between the East and West. I can´t help but wonder what this rock´s history is, and who else I share this rock´s history in common with.  3. When I think of this rock, I think of how it was once part of the uneven and rocky sidewalk. I think of how many times I tripped and stumbled on these rocks while in Berlin. When I think of stumbling, I think of my two favorite experiences in Berlin that I just happened to stumble upon (both of which I blogged about). First, the graffiti park I stumbled upon with Stuart, which included many restaurants, cafes, a rock climbing station, a club and a market. Second, the Wasser Gallerie, which Teryn and I stumbled upon while looking for the Neue National Gallerie.  4. When I think of this rock, I think of the location I found it at (the art piece below). I think of how Berlin has managed to make art out of everything (like these boxes). I think of the new posters, posted daily about art exhibits, concerts, and things to do. I think generally of Berlin´s thriving arts and culture scene.  5. When I think of this rock, and our self-portrait assignment, I think how I can manage to make this rock look like me? ( I always seem to take assignments literally at first). I think, should I draw some blond hair on it? A face? However, as time goes on and the more I think about my rock and my reasons for identifying with it, I realize I don’t need to do anything to this rock to make it look like me. I realize that by simply leaving it as it is, and by accepting it, we resemble each other. What I mean is that Berlin accepts me, the same way as I accept this rock—just the way it is. You see, everything goes in this city, which is very different from all the other German cities I´ve been too. Berlin reminds me of a bigger and more liberal Ann Arbor. There is no typical Berliner, at least not what I observed. People from all over the world come to live here. I heard somewhere that ¼ of Berlin´s population are foreigners. This being said, I really feel accepted in Berlin. Despite my American accent, people always respond to me in German and I even get asked for directions here. Anyways, there you have it—my 5 reasons for identifying with this rock. Actually, I´ll be a little corny and say that my 6^th reason for choosing this rock is that this trip truly did, ROCK. 

 





 



 

Alas, our trip ended one week ago and I am headed home, too. There will be more pictures and blog entries to come.

Why I Learn German

     I sometimes feel guilty learning German. Relative to other languages, Spanish seems more practical. French sounds more beautiful. And Japanese is just cool (or so I've been told). German, then, appears to be pushed to the fringes of most students' interest. No surprise. It's true that most Germans, particularly the younger generation are proficient in conversational English. It's also true that German words are compromised of a series of sounds that might not "roll off the tongue" as nicely as the French lexicon. But why should a language be judged by it's supposed practicality or aesthetics?
     There is an essence, a beauty, in every language that can only be imitated by others. Words may have direct counterparts in other languages, but they are never quite the same. They are nuances. They are nuances because the situations and events that precondition all speech are never the same in two regions of the world. Among the numerous examples that could properly document this trend, the theater stands at the fore.
    I'm writing this blog at the end of our trip. I've seen so many pieces of German theater that I can say without a doubt that no German play can be translated into another language and still retain the  same emotion. For instance, I saw one play entitled "Murmel" in which the actors only repeated one word, "murmel." If this play were to be translated into English, the translator would need to make a very important--and potentially--damaging decision, for in German "murmel" has two meanings. On one hand, "murmel" means mumble. On the other it means marble. If this piece were performed in English, the director would have to choose one translation or the other, but regardless of the choice, some aspect of the play would be lost.
     This is the essence and beauty of a language that can only be imitated by others. It's also a reassurance that no language is uneccessary or purposeless. Language always has a meaning for those who speak it. And that's why the "impractical" and "harsh" German language has meaning for me.

Potsdam!

 Yep, that's an obelisk.

 DDR style building

Helmut continuing to walk despite my photography. (Wir warten auf niemanden!)

 The Brandenburger Tor of Potsdam

 Gate to the Sanssouci park

 The palace of Friedrich the Great

 The golden symbol is for the Enlightenment, inside is the Praying Knave, Friedrich the Great's favorite statue.

 View of the estate from outside the castle

 Not a palace, but actually a gigantic greenhouse for oranges

 A wild pagoda appears!

 A show-off palace for guests

 Just a little something for the servants and horses....

 A tub made of a single carved piece of onyx. "A nice place to have a bath with your favorite concubine" -Helmut Franz

Chinese Teahouse