Most of us have heard of the brutality of Nazi Germany. The first real education I got about that time was when I acted in a play in my university. In it, I portrayed a German scientist who relished her work in finding a way to burn bodies more effectively in pyres. She was a dispassionate observer, who had no interest in the war or the reasons of it. She marveled in the science of fire.
But it never really hit home. Weimar, 20 kilometers out of Jena, hosts the Buchenwald concentration camp. Home of the SS, and site of the massive death, suffering, and starvation 250,000 political prisoners, Jews, homosexuals, and gypsies. Last Wednesday Julia took me to the camp, a depressing place that settled heavily in my heart.
I did not bring a camera with me, and I would have preferred not to, anyway. The beauty of Weimar was a chilling setting for the nastiness humans can inflct, and continue to inflict, on each other.
After watching a short film about life in the camp (yellow stars for Jews, red stars for political prisoners, and pink stars for homos), we went on a sobering tour of what still remains of the camp.
We went into a hall of 26 bunkers, where political prisoners were kept. They frequently committed suicide, choosing what they felt was a more dignified death than the slow hunger of the that killed the other prisoners around them. Prisoners strangled each other so they can get a bigger share of potato peels. Outside, the SS officers and their families frolicked in a zoo that they forced the prisoners to build.
Buchenwald is a place of memorials. Some of the cells contained photographs and a short biography of the tenants, placed by their families in memoriam. In another room, paper cranes, a symbol of peace, are placed on a bed.
The crematorium was truly disturbing. The entrance contained an autopsy table, where the SS conducted "experiments" on the Jewish population. Jews and homosexuals were fair game in the camp. They were the first picked out for torture, and were consistenly chosen by the SS for the most humiliating, degrading acts. Political prisoners were allowed to become "guards" within the camp.
The basement contained a wooden chute where bodies were slid for storage. An elevator with the width of a human lengthwise carried the bodies up to the crematoriums, which burned 24 hours a day. A storage facility for bodies is filled with marble plates, giving names, and hopefully, a rightful burial for those that perished.
One stood out. From Luxembourg: "To our mother who survived the hell of Buchenwald."
The German legacy is checkered, punctuated by wars, power plays, everchanging borders and anti-semitism. I think that Germany has learned its lesson. Unfortunately, I believe the human race has not.
I was so burdened by Buchenwald that I was very careful to not allow any part of my body to touch the walls. I did not want to take the place's oppresive memories home with me. I slept fitfully that night, haunted by the ghosts of Buchenwald.
Friday, June 30, 2006
Sunday, June 25, 2006
*Alter Schwede!
Germany is in a tizzy over 'Worldcupitis,' a term coined by footie fan Rene Enriquez
We caught the game at an open-air pub in Deggendorf. 130 kilometers away in Munich, over 100 thousand spectators gathered in an arena with bated breath. In the rest of Germany, Germans bit their nails in front of giant TV screens, in pubs and restaurants, cheering for Germany.
Sweden verus Germany, Germany won 2-0. Germany caught two points early in the game, psychologically breaking the Swedes, who never recovered after that shock. Homecourt advantage? I don't think so. I think the Swedes were beaten before they even begun.
The people were so funny, they were not there at the game, but they cheered like crazy when Lukas Podolski scored both goals for Germany. They uttered a collective sigh of disappointment when Germany came thisclose to scoring another goal, and clapped for the great effort. They even made a 'human wave'!
In Leipzig, 100 kilometers from Jena, Argentina battled against Mexico. It was the most brutal match I have ever seen! Compared to the frenetic match of Sweden and Germany, The match between Agentina and Mexico was almost like watching ballet. The footwork of the Swedes and the Germans looked like that of a lumbering schoolboy compared to the grace of the Argentinians! The long shots and amazing passes of the two teams drew the match out to an amazing 120 minutes!
The players were almost superhuman, like cartoon characters even. Players would collide in mid-air, their heads knocking together like two coconuts, and they emerged unscathed. Gallant warriors with busted knees were escorted out with applause. It's the Latin in them, you see. In the end, the Argentinaians won, a very close 2-1. The match was so close that 90 minutes into the game, both teams were still stuck in a 1-1 tie.
So now, Germany and Argentina are both headed to the quarterfinals, leading up to the championships in Berlin. I fear for Germany. Germany vs. Argentina this Friday. Argentina is no pansy, literally toying with their past opponets.
In streets across Germany, people honked their cars and proclaimed "Berlin! Berlin!
Wir farhren nach Berlin!"
* A German expression of disbelief, like "OhMyGod!" or "What the F***!" Literally means 'Old Swedish dude'
We caught the game at an open-air pub in Deggendorf. 130 kilometers away in Munich, over 100 thousand spectators gathered in an arena with bated breath. In the rest of Germany, Germans bit their nails in front of giant TV screens, in pubs and restaurants, cheering for Germany.
Sweden verus Germany, Germany won 2-0. Germany caught two points early in the game, psychologically breaking the Swedes, who never recovered after that shock. Homecourt advantage? I don't think so. I think the Swedes were beaten before they even begun.
The people were so funny, they were not there at the game, but they cheered like crazy when Lukas Podolski scored both goals for Germany. They uttered a collective sigh of disappointment when Germany came thisclose to scoring another goal, and clapped for the great effort. They even made a 'human wave'!
In Leipzig, 100 kilometers from Jena, Argentina battled against Mexico. It was the most brutal match I have ever seen! Compared to the frenetic match of Sweden and Germany, The match between Agentina and Mexico was almost like watching ballet. The footwork of the Swedes and the Germans looked like that of a lumbering schoolboy compared to the grace of the Argentinians! The long shots and amazing passes of the two teams drew the match out to an amazing 120 minutes!
The players were almost superhuman, like cartoon characters even. Players would collide in mid-air, their heads knocking together like two coconuts, and they emerged unscathed. Gallant warriors with busted knees were escorted out with applause. It's the Latin in them, you see. In the end, the Argentinaians won, a very close 2-1. The match was so close that 90 minutes into the game, both teams were still stuck in a 1-1 tie.
So now, Germany and Argentina are both headed to the quarterfinals, leading up to the championships in Berlin. I fear for Germany. Germany vs. Argentina this Friday. Argentina is no pansy, literally toying with their past opponets.
In streets across Germany, people honked their cars and proclaimed "Berlin! Berlin!
Wir farhren nach Berlin!"
* A German expression of disbelief, like "OhMyGod!" or "What the F***!" Literally means 'Old Swedish dude'
Friday, June 23, 2006
The Germanization of Cathy
My progressive and steady immersion into German society has been fun, queer, and frustrating for me, a hard-core English speaker. My transformation from Arashi-Kishu, PR Writer, cartoon voice dubber and independent woman, to Arashi-Kishu, poor German student, has been a strange trip so far.
I arrived in Jena after a long drive down the Autobahn. I was welcomed by Thomas' mother, whose English was even poorer than my sorry German. However, I was told that my German is already good, even better than some of the Turkish and Russian immigrants here in Germany.
It is as warm right now in Germany as it is in Manila, but the wind is not as humid. Summer temperatures in Germany remind me of Sagada.
Jena is very beautiful, and really green, reminiscent of photos of the French countryside. Jena is a bit my kind of town. It is very laid back. One can walk the streets barefoot, with no make-up, or dress practically in rags, and nobody would care. In the office, every day is casual Friday. People in Jena are deeply into sports and the outdoors. This university town prides itself with its glass and lens industry, and its share of intellectuals who call it home. If I would compare Jena to an American city, it would be somewhere in Colorado.
Thomas, me, and his mother at their summer house.
Germany is in the midst of World Cup fever. People huddle in front of giant screens in town squares, or at homes, nursing beers and wearing the German colors, even when nobody could see them.
First part of my immersion. Thomas said that I needed a backpack, like him, with waist support systems and all that jazz. Then, he decided that I needed flip-flops. World Cup commemorative sandals were on sale. I wanted Brazilian flips, but he would not hear any of it. I decided to give in because I think he would have been offended if I did not buy the German team slippers.
Next up is our search for a bicycle. Everyone here goes around in a bicycle. Thomas asked me whether I knew how to ride a bike, I said, Of course! So I took his mother's bike for a spin. He almost had a heart attack because I didn't follow 'the rules.' Shit, in Germany, even children need to pass a test to be able to ride a bike through the streets! How anal is that?
"Thomas, you asked me if I could ride a bike. I said yes, meaning I could propel a bike forward. But you never said anything about rules!"
I got a thorough lecture about German road rules after that. I will get my own bike next week.
This is Julia Blickhan, my sponsor and a lovely, lovely woman. She is a Greek engineer and English language teacher, married to a German kinetic scientist, and the mother of Thomas's best friend, Marko. She is like a second mother to Thomas. She is grown-up in a way adults rarely are anymore. She is a very positive role model. The moment I met her, I knew that I met my idol. Everything for her is 'excellent' and 'ganz toll.' The next day, we went to a place called 'Erdbereenland' and picked and ate strawberries to our hearts' content. The guy who collected the fees reminded me of Dana Carvey circa "Wayne's World." Funny.
The next day, we were off to Deggendorf, deep in Bayern (Bavaria) and where Thomas goes to University. I was priviledged enough to join Thomas's class in a team-building exercise, in cooperation with the German Bundeswehr (Army). The class pretended to be inhabitants of a foreign land, with funny customs, and the Army guys were supposed to teach us how to build a raft. We were supposed to learn team building, and the Army guys learned how to deal with inhabitants of a funny country with funny customs. We did the task by the muddy banks of the historic Danube River. Toll!
German Army men tapping the keg, which officially launches the after-raft building party, which was scheduled deliberately before the German game against Ecuador. Portable TV and shitty antenna be damned, we had to watch the game. Germany won 3-0, and I never had so many estatic soccer fans around me ever since I dated a footballer in UST. "Sh-la-la-la, shalalalalalalaaaa...." However, unlike my ex's friends, they were mostly drunk. Alexa, Thomas' classmate, said that this is the first time Germans allowed themselves to feel patriotic about their country since the Second World War.
We got free German Bundeswehr-issued energy drinks, sunblock, and insect protection lotion! Cool souveniers, if you ask me!
The Bavarians speak with a funny accent, with a hard tongue that I have to train my ears to understand. Herr Ang was right; everything separating Austria and Germany is artificial.
My immersion into the language has been exhausting. My ease switching between English and Tagalog had me thinking that I could snap my brain into another language easily. Ooooh boy. After speaking to Julia for an hour in English, my return to German-speaking society gave me a headache. Sometimes, I feel like I'm drowning in a sea of German, and I could not help but feel myself innundated. The constant stream of German is a tap I can't turn off. I have consistently been told that I speak great accent-free German, and nobody could believe that i had just learned the language three months ago.
I have learned slang, a complete departure from the bookish, proper German I learned from my amazing teacher, Herr Ang. My "Ich weiss nicht" is now "Keine Ahnung," and anything unusual is "Kommisch, oder?" My partizip II (the German way of expressing the past tense) has been reinforced. Before I came to Germany, even if I was told that Germans rarely use the simple past tense in their conversation, I insisted and persevered in drilling myself on it. Oh well.
I will start re-learning German next week, in my new language school, and open a bank account for myself here.
As they say in Bavaria (and Austria), "Servus!"
I arrived in Jena after a long drive down the Autobahn. I was welcomed by Thomas' mother, whose English was even poorer than my sorry German. However, I was told that my German is already good, even better than some of the Turkish and Russian immigrants here in Germany.
It is as warm right now in Germany as it is in Manila, but the wind is not as humid. Summer temperatures in Germany remind me of Sagada.
Jena is very beautiful, and really green, reminiscent of photos of the French countryside. Jena is a bit my kind of town. It is very laid back. One can walk the streets barefoot, with no make-up, or dress practically in rags, and nobody would care. In the office, every day is casual Friday. People in Jena are deeply into sports and the outdoors. This university town prides itself with its glass and lens industry, and its share of intellectuals who call it home. If I would compare Jena to an American city, it would be somewhere in Colorado.
Thomas, me, and his mother at their summer house.Germany is in the midst of World Cup fever. People huddle in front of giant screens in town squares, or at homes, nursing beers and wearing the German colors, even when nobody could see them.
First part of my immersion. Thomas said that I needed a backpack, like him, with waist support systems and all that jazz. Then, he decided that I needed flip-flops. World Cup commemorative sandals were on sale. I wanted Brazilian flips, but he would not hear any of it. I decided to give in because I think he would have been offended if I did not buy the German team slippers.
Next up is our search for a bicycle. Everyone here goes around in a bicycle. Thomas asked me whether I knew how to ride a bike, I said, Of course! So I took his mother's bike for a spin. He almost had a heart attack because I didn't follow 'the rules.' Shit, in Germany, even children need to pass a test to be able to ride a bike through the streets! How anal is that?
"Thomas, you asked me if I could ride a bike. I said yes, meaning I could propel a bike forward. But you never said anything about rules!"
I got a thorough lecture about German road rules after that. I will get my own bike next week.
This is Julia Blickhan, my sponsor and a lovely, lovely woman. She is a Greek engineer and English language teacher, married to a German kinetic scientist, and the mother of Thomas's best friend, Marko. She is like a second mother to Thomas. She is grown-up in a way adults rarely are anymore. She is a very positive role model. The moment I met her, I knew that I met my idol. Everything for her is 'excellent' and 'ganz toll.' The next day, we went to a place called 'Erdbereenland' and picked and ate strawberries to our hearts' content. The guy who collected the fees reminded me of Dana Carvey circa "Wayne's World." Funny.
The next day, we were off to Deggendorf, deep in Bayern (Bavaria) and where Thomas goes to University. I was priviledged enough to join Thomas's class in a team-building exercise, in cooperation with the German Bundeswehr (Army). The class pretended to be inhabitants of a foreign land, with funny customs, and the Army guys were supposed to teach us how to build a raft. We were supposed to learn team building, and the Army guys learned how to deal with inhabitants of a funny country with funny customs. We did the task by the muddy banks of the historic Danube River. Toll!
German Army men tapping the keg, which officially launches the after-raft building party, which was scheduled deliberately before the German game against Ecuador. Portable TV and shitty antenna be damned, we had to watch the game. Germany won 3-0, and I never had so many estatic soccer fans around me ever since I dated a footballer in UST. "Sh-la-la-la, shalalalalalalaaaa...." However, unlike my ex's friends, they were mostly drunk. Alexa, Thomas' classmate, said that this is the first time Germans allowed themselves to feel patriotic about their country since the Second World War.
We got free German Bundeswehr-issued energy drinks, sunblock, and insect protection lotion! Cool souveniers, if you ask me!
The Bavarians speak with a funny accent, with a hard tongue that I have to train my ears to understand. Herr Ang was right; everything separating Austria and Germany is artificial.
My immersion into the language has been exhausting. My ease switching between English and Tagalog had me thinking that I could snap my brain into another language easily. Ooooh boy. After speaking to Julia for an hour in English, my return to German-speaking society gave me a headache. Sometimes, I feel like I'm drowning in a sea of German, and I could not help but feel myself innundated. The constant stream of German is a tap I can't turn off. I have consistently been told that I speak great accent-free German, and nobody could believe that i had just learned the language three months ago.
I have learned slang, a complete departure from the bookish, proper German I learned from my amazing teacher, Herr Ang. My "Ich weiss nicht" is now "Keine Ahnung," and anything unusual is "Kommisch, oder?" My partizip II (the German way of expressing the past tense) has been reinforced. Before I came to Germany, even if I was told that Germans rarely use the simple past tense in their conversation, I insisted and persevered in drilling myself on it. Oh well.
I will start re-learning German next week, in my new language school, and open a bank account for myself here.
As they say in Bavaria (and Austria), "Servus!"
Wednesday, June 07, 2006
Auf Wiedersehen!
Thuringen: Das grüne Herz von Deutschland!
I am leaving on June 13, and will arrive at Frankfurt am Main the next day. Then off I go to Jena. My life since February has been in a tizzy because of all the preparations! Moving out of my flat, things to buy, German lessons, packing. Leaving a life is not my idea of fun :(
Sa mga ka-berks, I have a thing on Friday, 9 pm, sa Kapitolyo, Pasig. Last chance na natin to, e-mail or text me if you wanna join.
Auf Wiedersehen Manila! Bis Zwei Jahre!
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