Customer service at the customs office

For almost three weeks now I’ve been impatiently waiting for my Lonely Planet guide of Egypt and Arabic Phrasebook to arrive (in the meantime I already bought a second hand Lonely Planet for Cairo). I finally got a notice that they would be in a post office in Schöneberg. This seemed very odd as we have a post office just down the road. I waited for the sunny weather until today to do this bike trip.

At arrival I gave my notice to the officer woman at the desk. I was obliged to ask if she spoke any English since I couldn’t understand her questions. “Ich spreche Deutsch”, she replied. Well, my German knowledge might be limited but I’m not so stupid that I couldn’t have figured out that she spoke German. I’ve already been pretty sceptical about the language competence of the Berliners but I was irritated by this more Eastern European way of compensating for lack of English with impoliteness.

Fortunately I avoided an impasse as her not much friendlier colleague asked me about the content of the parcel in poor English. “Hard to say as I don’t know the sender, but I believe it contains some books.” “Bücher”, the man translated. Then an idea came to my mind: “I also just had my birthday, maybe somebody sent me something.” Well, this was wishful thinking but I survived the test and got a number to wait for my turn.

Staring slightly humiliated (but proud since at least I didn’t cry) the posters on the wall about terrorists and murder series in Germany, I finally understood that this was a post office for suspicious cases, that is, it was some kind of a customs office. Nobody looked very dubious but I was wondering what kind of a treatment would a person with a long black beard get.

I was distressed about the content of my package but eventually I was called in. Three weeks my innocent travel guidebooks had been waiting for me in this place that seemed like a shelter employment for socially challenged people. I opened the package – which was already open so why all the big fuss? – and almost burst to laugh. Was the war against terrorism going so far that even people planning a trip to an Islamic country (not to mention wanting to learn a few words of Arabic with a help of a Lonely Planet phrasebook) were now suspects?

Pergamon Museum

We decided to do a short working day at the Staatsbibliotek and instead discover the most visited museum of Germany, the Pergamon museum in the Museuminsel. Normally I’m of the opinion that the art of ancient Greece should be explored in Greece and pharaoh mummies in Egypt. However, the Pergamon museum is not to be missed and I enjoyed it enormously. It has an antique, Islamic and Middle Eastern art collections. As I am already preparing myself for our trip to Egypt in two months, I was especially interested in Islamic art that I am not so familiar with. It was mostly decorative art with for example books, carpets, prayer niches, and plates but the collection also contains some really amazing pieces like the façade of Mschatta palace and a superbly painted room of a house in Aleppo (see photos below). These extremely beautiful items really made me want to visit Iran, Syria and other Islamic countries as well.

The museum is named after its huge frieze of the Pergamon Altar dating 165 BC (the first photo). It was discovered like many other items in the museum by a German archaeologist in Turkey in the late 19th century (the ruins of Bergama are in the photo below). Another magnificent piece is the market gate of Miletus, also brought from Turkey. It was seriously damaged in the Second World War and it makes you wonder why it (and the Pergamon frieze as well as many others) was brought to Germany in the first place. For this reason, I usually hesitate to visit museums of Antiquities or exotic cultures in countries where the art doesn’t originate and where it is often a mere souvenir of colonialism.


Why are these items in a museum in Berlin Museumisland and not in Turkey where we could admire them in their original surroundings making the experience much more effective. Of course, some of the valuable pieces would have been destroyed if left in the place of origin; this is the case for many ancient Greek art items that were saved by the British Museum. However, is there a time when they should be returned back to Greece? Probably many more people can enjoy them in London or Berlin in these popular museums that gather much more visitors than a little museum in Greece or Turkey but do the people there have an inherent right to these cultural treasures more than tourists in Berlin do? This reminds me of the news from last February when China reclaimed its right to two bronze statues being sold in Yves Saint Laurent’s auction at Christie’s (see photo below). French and British troops likely looted these statues from China 150 years ago. However, French court ruled that the auction can continue.


I strongly felt this injustice when I visited a museum of African art in Dakar, Senegal. The museum was almost childishly organised and didn’t have many exceptional items. Well, it didn’t have so many visitors either. Nevertheless, I couldn’t help of thinking of the superb museum (well, I have to admit that it is pretty amazing) Quai Branly in Paris, the initiative of the president Jacques Chirac. It has a vast collection of non-European art from all over the world. Not only are these interesting pieces well organised in the modern building but a visitor can learn about them with interactive video displays, film and music. Just the fact that in Quai Branly’s website you can do a video flash visit and, in comparison, the museum in Dakar just has a short introduction in Wikipedia tells a lot about this reality. How can a poor museum in Dakar compete against this kind of a super museum filled with art and the most advanced technology? Obviously, the majority of the visitors can never travel to these far-away countries and Quai Branly (or any museum alike) gives them the opportunity to understand other cultures and their history and art. But I still felt extremely sad in that little museum in Dakar that could only afford to show a few musical instruments and scenes of African life displaying self-made looking puppets made out of pulp.

I will get back to you later on the topic when I visit the museum of Islamic Art in Cairo.

P.S. Just doscovered an article on the issue in Al Ahram Weekly

Giant Escape - or almost

Royal de Luxe is an amazing marionette open-air theatre group founded by Jean Luc Courcoult in Nantes in 1979. The giant marionette puppets of Royal de Luxe have toured the world ever since. I had the opportunity to see them here in Berlin last weekend. Well, this chance was seized by another half a million people (estimation is author’s own) who ruined my chance to see anything at all. After being pushed around in the crowd for two hours, during which we managed to walk from the halfway of Unter den Linder to the Brandenburg Gate, we decided to give up. My only glimpse of the girl marionette is illustrated below.

The pictures I later saw on the happening only enhanced my grand deception. To demonstrate the real beauty of the performance (that I couldn’t unfortunately see live), I display here a few photos (also the first one on top) from http://www.riesen-in-berlin.de/en/the-giants-arrive/photo-impressions-berlin2.html



You see, it must have been half a million and not just my exaggeration.

The magnificent Sultan’s Elephant wasn’t part of the show in Berlin but in my opinion it is the most wonderful creature and you should check out this beautiful video.

P.S. I just read that during the four days Royal de Luxe was in Berlin 2 million people followed them in the streets. So my estimation of Saturday's half a million was pretty close.

Nordic Escape

The festival for Nordic performing arts and music Nord Wind coincided with my birthday and as a birthday gift I got a pass to the festival. The focal point of this cultural happening is supposed to be “the re-definition and re-application of theatrical means, classical texts and reflection on one’s own work”.

This was certainly true when we saw the TV adaptation of Kristian Smeds’ “The Unknown Soldier” that has been shocking and delighting the theatre audience in Finland for almost two years now (photo below from Kansallisteatteri). I’ve never seen the play before but I (as the rest of the Finns) had developed quite profound knowledge on the piece based on the obligatory reading of the novel at school and on the film version from 1955 they broadcast (and we watch!) in television every year on Finnish Independence Day (if you have forgotten the story, this is a 3 minutes version of it.



I very much enjoyed the play and was slightly amused that this had caused such a scandal in Finland. The original novel and film have gained such a sacred place in the Finnish society that all different interpretations are considered as blasphemous (at least so long as some of these courageous soldiers are still alive). I have to admit myself that hearing Jean Sibelius’ “Finlandia” makes me see the Finnish soldiers crossing a marsh as in Edvin Laine’s film. This symphony is a symbol of Finnish nationalism and it is naturally also used in Smeds’ theatre version. However, the symphony was composed when Finland was still a grand-duchy of Russia and during the 90 years of independence we have added some other important songs in the national memory. In 1995, one of the greatest patriotic culminations took place when Finland won the ice hockey world cup against the Swedes. A song “Ihanaa Leijonat ihanaa” (fantastic, Lions, fantastic) was created from the commentaries of the legendary Antero Mertaranta. This song is heard alongside Finlandia in Smeds’ play – and it works. Old nationalistic symbols are complemented with new, and for younger generations more meaningful, symbols – with a hint of irony.

My second – and this time much more intimate as I was smelling his bitter perspiration – encounter with the Finnish director was yesterday when we saw his other performance “The Wonderer” based on a traditional Orthodox tale of a pilgrim. The audience sat around a table on which the story was drawn as the main character, the pilgrim, was narrating his story.

I got my premiere on a theatre stage as a poker player as Smeds chose me for this minor role in the play. This must be the fear of all the theatregoers: in the interactive part of the play you are asked to join the actors. However, this wasn’t the part that later made me think of my lost opportunity. After the play was finished, the director shook my hand and thanked me for my participation. Normally, I should have said something witty and thank him for his performances in the festival. But no, in front of this exceptional and, at the moment, the hottest Finnish director, I gaggled and suddenly lost my competence of Finnish. As the audience was offered tea, I was wallowing in self-pity. In usual conditions, I manage to say at least something embarrassing… Obviously, I’m more suited for academic circles than mingling with celebrities.

Introduction

As the weather in Berlin is getting greyer and I don’t have the immediate urge to gallop around Kreuzberg and discover bohemian cafés and cool terraces, I can once again try writing down my experiences in a foreign country. Moving from Florence to Berlin was a huge change in almost all possible ways.

1.) The first thing I had to do in Berlin in early June when we had just left the hot and sunny Florence was to buy trousers. The temperature was 20 degrees lower than in Italy but it wasn’t the only reason to make my silk dresses useless: to be fashionable (well, this concept hardly fits here) in the streets of Kreuzberg meant Converse shoes, oversized glasses, badly combined colours, and no bras.



2.) The change in daily diet was a remarkable one as well. During the first week in Berlin we seized the chance of trying out Vietnamese, Lebanese, Ethiopian, German, and Indian cuisine. What an excitement after two years in Florence where you have to look hard to find anything else than Italian food. However, after three months in Berlin, I was happy to fill my luggage with fresh pasta, olive oil, wine, and cheese from Italy.



Also the vegetarian life can be hard in Germany; everywhere you go, you smell sausages in the streets. Once the temptation of sausage takes over you, you end up queuing in front of the famous Curry 36 in Mehringdamm. Staring the greasy sausage with slight disgust and suffering from moral repentance should, however, put to you back on the right track again. After all, the veggie burgers in Bio Buffet in Marheinekehalle are much better comfort food!

3.) Even if I haven’t even finished reading about Florence and the renaissance, I have set my mind for this new historical setting. I’ve realized that I won’t perhaps ever again have the chance to live in a such amazing city as Florence and be surrounded by its absolutely magnificent history (the overuse of these adjectives is not exaggeration when we talk about the history of Florence) but the presence of Cold War in Berlin is equally fascinating if in a very different way. Visiting the Stasi Prison or reading about the Berlin wall takes you back to times that seem almost unrealistic. Whilst the stories on the Medici family, Michelangelo and Dante illustrate the glorious past of a city where humanism and renaissance were born, the history of Berlin is often upsetting.

Clothes, food and history – in addition to them, I will probably write a lot about cultural activities in this blog since another major change to Florence is the widening of the cultural scene. I’m not saying that I didn’t greatly enjoy of the high-quality classical concerts in Teatro Pergola, but now I can choose from the range of punk, rock and reggae. And as the tourist flows get smaller I will start the more meticulous exploration of museums and cultural venues of Berlin.