Oktober 2010

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Over the next six weeks Berlin is host to a new exhibitioin that focuses on the concept of the city, and how we as people deal with this big sprawling mass that is all around us. At Realstadt: Wünsche als Wirklichkeit (Realstadt: Wishes as Reality) over 300 architectural modeals and 80 projects from around Germany have been brought togather to explore people’s wishes for change and the “energy needed to make it happen”. These are the “wishes” of urban planning and architecture and how they have been transformed into reality. The exhibition looks to be fascinating, and should be of interest to anyone who wants to expore further how urbanisation and “the city” impacts on us on individuals, and what can be done to change things at a time when ever increasing numbers of people on this planet are living in the urban environment.

Realstadt: Wünsche als Wirklichkeit is taking place at Kraftwerk Mitte until the 28th November, and you can find out much more information about the exhibition and some of the different projects around Germany on the exhibition website.

Letter from Srebrenica

(Part three from Jared’s trip to Bosnia)

As I mentioned in one of my previous blogs, I have been reading a book about the search for Radovan, in which the author spends 6 years trying to track him down before finally coming face to face with him through the glass at the Hague. This is kind of how I feel about my trip. I came face to face with something that I still don’t understand but feel I will leave better informed than when I arrived. That is all I can ask for. I came on the search for information and I found various levels of information that will keep my mind replaying different conversations I had with people and the feelings that I experienced this time around.

On Tuesday I woke up with a small hang over heading to the Europe Hotel to meet my guide for the day. As I tried to enter the hotel I noticed a very large police presence. This is not uncommon for this hotel so I didn’t think much about till I tried to enter and realized that the place was full for security and even had a metal detector.

I thought for sure my guide would not be inside waiting for me so I placed myself directly across the street expecting him to sweep me up in the car. As I was waiting I realized more and more guys coming out in the street with ear pieces, and there were many large black men also dressed in suits and wearing sunglasses. I knew they were American judging from their accents and thought ok somebody slightly important must be coming out.

To my surprise I saw Mrs. Hillary Clinton walk out of the hotel, waving at nobody because I was the only person standing outside with any interest.  My hangover dissipated and shock came over me. Since was not expecting that and I was close enough to have touched her.

After she peeled out of the hotel I got enough guts to enter and found my guide drinking coffee and smoking and he said I have been waiting since 8:45 for you. I explained to him that I didn’t really think they would let me in to the hotel since Hillary just came out. He told me no problem they all know me here. I know all the security, I just walked right in.

We found our driver and headed off to the city of Srebrenica. We had a long drive but I had prepared some questions and we talked about hours about everything that came to my mind.

We arrived in the city and headed straight to the hotel I stayed at 3 or 4 years ago where the owner speaks good German and is a famous chef and people come from all around to his place. I couldn’t believe I was back at this place and told him that I  just read about his restaurant in a book. He offered us a table and we quickly realized we were not the only guests he was waiting for. There was a large table already set for a  luncheon. There were lots of questions exchanged but there seemed to be a lot of hush hush. According to my translator nobody was allowed to say who was coming. I think they all knew it might have been Hillary or surely part of her delegation.

We had a beer and a fabulously prepared meal of veal, chips and some kind of vegetables that were unrecognizable. Just after my after-meal ciggie and with my beer not finished my driver and guide jumped up and said lets go! The next thing is that again big American-looking dude started pulling up in cars, radios were going off and everyone was looking at me very suspiciously. But I had to go to the toilet and my guide said go ahead. I had one of those moments where I could hear more and more agents coming in and I felt like the scene in the god father when he goes to the toilet to find the hidden gun. I managed under extreme pressure to finish my business and as I came out I was escorted by my guide and driver.

I felt like I really had my own security and later in the day I found out that I did!

We had a bit of  walk around the town went up into the hill and drank from a fountain that may have silver in it. The town used to be very wealthy with a health spa and the water is meant to be very good for you.

We then started with the darker part of the tour and that was stopping at the football stadium where nobody plays. Around 200-300 hundred Muslims were killed in this stadium. At this time the hair on my neck started to rise and after a pleasant car ride, decent lunch, I suddenly felt an overwhelming sadness. I had tried to prepare for this but I don’t think its possible.

After that moment the rest of day changed, conversation was kept to a minimum, my guide seemed to be quiet, not talking, and a bit angry and disturbed.

Next we went to the barracks of the UN troops from Holland. This was the spot that you can see on TV footage of 1000s of people waiting outside to try and get in. The walls still had the graffiti left on it from naked girls, calenders with the days marked out, and Harley Davidson eagles.

I was then shown a movie made by British women about the area, the accounts of wives about the last time they saw their husband or children, and scenes from the mass graves. This again put a huge weight on my chest and as I walked past photos of the men trying to escape to the hills I no longer had a voice. I was introduced to a guy who is in charge of the museum and my guide said, ask questions he has the answers, but I was still in a state of shock and tried to speak but could no longer find a voice.

I was taken to the museum which is now in the hanger or a factory where 5000 people were let in. This is the spot where women were having babies, the elderly were dying and because some people knew their fate around 12 men committed suicide. The guide gave me the history of the place let me walk around looking at the history of the town and in the end there is a well presented exhibition on different stories from people that had lived in the town and disappeared and part of them and their belongings had been found in mass graves.

In the exhibition  there were belongings and again to see the wedding ring of a man or a young child’s bracelet spun my head out thinking of what those people went through. There is something about seeing their objects that brings reality a bit closer to home.

I walked outside with my guide still absolute silent and we walked across the street to the cemetery and memorial. The one that Bill Clinton inaugurated.

My guide in silence looking at the names showing me the members of his clan on the white marble with all the names. He was also looking to see if any had been crossed out since some people in the end were still alive.

He then took one of my cigarettes and when I turned around he was gone. He had vanished! I was left lonely surrounded by white grave stones that seemed to go on and on forever. I felt a bit better for some reason that at least these families found their love ones and they could lay them to rest. What about all the people still out there that have not been found yet?

I walked around for a half hour had my final look and headed back to the car. My guide said in his great accent “lez go home”. On the drive back nobody talked. For at least an hour and half no one spoke. My naive questions and my search for knowledge that I had been planning for hours the night before all seemed so stupid and I could only reflect on what I had seen and felt.

We arrived back to the hotel and attached was the Vienna cafe inside, my body ached from being in car all day. My spirit shattered and I was in desperate need of a beer.

This broke the ice with my guide and we continued to talk about a lot of different things when he started to reveal stories about what he did in the war and the rations that he sold on the side, and then he started talking about his friends before and after the war. As he described that many of them no more get along the beers kicked in and he started to shed tears. He kept saying I am sorry, I am sorry. I of course told him that there was no need to be sorry and that everyone is allowed to be sad.

He jumped up in his chair now stone cold sober and said yes you are right. He started laughing and thanked me because he had never thought about his. He said he  must write this in international law. that everybody in the world has the right to be sad. He mentioned what a paradox that you can’t know what sadness is without knowing what happiness is.

This really made his day and it made mine as well since I seemed to have helped him discover something he had never thought about. On this note we said our good byes and he disappeared into the dark corners of his mind somewhere in Sarajevo.

Like the guy in the book I came on this trip on the search to find something. I am still not certain what I have found but I have found somethings that I certainly wont forget.

football demo 2

Located as we are 0n the Rosenthaler Platz, it is quite normal for the many demonstrations that take place in Berlin to pass by the Circus Hostel and Hotel. Last Saturday it was the turn of German football fans to have their voices heard, as 4000 fans from over 50 clubs took to the streets of Berlin to protest against rising ticket prices in the German game, as well as the increasing commercialisation of the sport.

As football clubs in England and elsewhere suffer under mountains of debt, fans are priced out of tickets and the clubs continually weaken their connection with their local communities, the German leagues continue to be held up around Europe as a model of football that others would do well to follow. But as the demonstration on Saturday shows, the fans remain vigilant when it comes to changes in their game. You can read more about the demonstration on Saturday here on the Local.de, and here is another link to an interesting article from the Guardian last year about “how the Bundesliga puts the Premier League to shame.”

football demo 1

Sharing Food in Sarajevo

(The second blog from Jared’s trip to Sarajevo…)

Friday was my first real day in the city, having finally had a good nights rest. It began with me writing the first blog entry, and ended up again in my favourite pub with the new books I invested in. The great thing about arriving in a city that you already know is that there is less pressure to try and see everything, and you have a bit more freedom to relax and explore other avenues.

As I was sitting in the pub reading and having my breakfast, I thought I recognised one of the students that I met last year. At first I was convinced that my eyes were playing tricks on me, but low and behold, it was the same person. We had a small chat, which I think he found a little uncomfortable as he had not spoken English for a year.

I headed back to my hotel to drop off my books, and my mouth was watering for those little sausages that I mentioned in the first blog. But before I could get back out on the street, the owners of the hotel invited me for a small lunch of freshly-made borek. It is really good here in the shops, but this one was even better, and you could really taste the love that went into making it.

After a short nap, I headed out to services at the Jewish synagogue. I arrived early and so sat in the waiting room with two guys no doubt wondering why I was there. Everyone was smoking, and it seems that here even the holy places are not holy enough that smoking is forbidden. After a quick ciggie, we were ushered upstairs with about eight me into the main synagogue. The service was short but sweet, and I couldn’t help wishing that they had been that way when I was a kid. Afterwards I was invited for an egg, some bread and fried cheese, and a glass of wine.

It was the second time that day that I had been taken in by strangers and invited to share something as special and important as food.

Since the service had been quicker than I expected, I headed out into the city in search of somewhere that was showing the European qualifiers between Bosnia and Albania. I found a small bar with a mixed crowd of girls sipping cocktails and men drinking beer and watched the game. I met up with another friend from last year, and after the game he took me to the twisted tower. This is the largest building in Sarajevo, with a view that cannot be beaten. These are the type of buildings that every good traveller should collect, such as the TV Tower in Berlin, or the tower in Sydney. From up there it was not only an amazing view, but it was very clear how the city could have been attacked from the hills so easily during the war.

After the tower we headed to a Russian party, in a venue that is a cafe by day and a club by night. It was packed with people sipping on Heinekens and Red Bulls, and as my mojo was good I put on a little jig…I was with people I like and my mood good. At 1am the noise restrictions meant that the party had to shut down, but by then most of the people had already packed up and hone home. Obviously nobody wanted to be the last to leave. Not cool. I was still there to the bitter end…I guess I am just not cool ;-)

The final stories from daniel k, who produced these Breakfast Stories for the Circus Cafe all week, as part of the project Kunstbox Nina Stähli at the Circus Hostel…

saturday

sunday

Letter from Sarajevo

Jared is away at the moment, and is spending time in a place that is close to both our hearts: Sarajevo. The following is from an email he sent, that he agreed could be shared on the blog – Paul…

Its always a rush when I arrive into Sarajevo airport. I can’t imagine what kind of craziness took place there. The planes coming in with humanitarian aid and all the UN trucks whizzing from one end to other but never taking anybody out of the place. The tunnel just underneath that was the life line to the city. You could go out with empty bags but not full ones and come back with full ones loaded up stuff to sell on the black market.

I dropped my stuff off at a little hotel and headed straight for my favorite pub for a Sarajevo pivo. As many of you know I did a tour with guy who is the only licensed tour operator in Bosnia and specializes on history and the war. I have been trying to contact him for over a week but as I was drinking my last little beer I noticed him in the street just starting one of his history tours. Not but one hour into my trip.

I approached his tour and he told me he had just replied to my mail 5 minutes before and invited me on the tour and told me the group would pay for me. So I expected to have a relaxing day but ended up after two days on a bar convention and then waking up at 5 in the morning which is my normal bed time (so I only could sleep an hour the night before) on a history tour with guy that has so much to share.

So I was walking around the streets of Sarajevo with a bunch of people from different countries that do census work, a few of which got yelled at by the tour guide since one was a Serb and did not want to hear about any massacres that took place in the streets. My tour guide boldly told him that this man was now in his country and that he needs to listen to what he has to say, just as he will listen to what that man had to say. But the overwhelming proof of one of shells that was the second biggest massacre in the city has to be explained and that he also had to tell people about this. If they did not agree with him they could keep their money and he would finish the tour.

Anyway we ended up in the brewery of Sarajevo my guide chain smoking at table of course joined him and tried to get as much info out of him as possible. The other people paid for his time but did not have any questions? The tour guide likes questions, he can talk a hell of a lot but he likes debate and questions.

He filled my brain with so many things that 12 hours later I am still processing what the hell he was talking about.

I have spent my morning enjoying the smell of sausages being prepared for the lunch rush and have been to my favorite book shops where I have spent my hard earned wages on literature about the war, the massacre in Srebrenica, and a book on the search for Radovan.

All of this is in preparation for my tour on tuesday which I will be spending half of my rent to visit Srebenica with the above mentioned man. This will entail seeing the genicide museum, the memorial and the place of burial of almost 8000 muslims, the stadium where people were taken to and the warehouse where the German peace keepers graffitied the wall some with very radical images that no human should have drawn.

I have been assured we will visit some places where men and women were separated and then killed and have heard that their spirits are still there and I expect to be very emotional.

Why I am doing this? I don’t know! But there is something about this place and I feel very at home here, but at the same time there is something that I am chasing a mystique that I can’t quite put my finger on and that’s what keeps me going and I keep on searching.

The fifth story from daniel k, who is producing these Breakfast Stories for the Circus Cafe all week, as part of the project Kunstbox Nina Stähli at the Circus Hostel…

friday

The fourth story from daniel k, who is producing these Breakfast Stories for the Circus Cafe all week, as part of the project Kunstbox Nina Stähli at the Circus Hostel…

thursday story

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