Lightness and Darkness

At my previous job, balancing light and dark was a daily task. As an oncology nurse we dealt with patients at all stages of treatment. We cared for newly diagnosed patients who were full of hope and apprehension. We also cared for people at the end of life. More than caring for the actual patient, you took care of their family and tried to make their experience as comfortable as possible. I remember swallowing back tears and walking into a room of a patient that I had known and who had passed and calmly asking if I could do anything for the family. This same day I cared for other patients who were nowhere near that point and I smiled for them and maybe joked a little. I will also point out that on that same day that I completely fell apart in our manager’s office, so that happens too.

Currently I’m on what I’m calling a “hiatus” and am not in the daily grind of an acute care cancer floor. In some ways I miss patient care and the satisfaction of caring for people on a daily basis. However, during this break I have been allowed to reflect upon these experiences and their meaning to me. While the challenges are apparent, it had reinforced my passion for oncology nursing.

You may be wondering how this relates to a travel blog about my time in Berlin? As I have explored Berlin, I have seen the dark history of Berlin and Germany. Berlin today is a relaxed and joyous place. However, mixed in with the biergartens, cafes, and cabarets, there are reminders of darker times. In the Mitte of the city lies the Holocaust Memorial. There is also the Jewish Museum reminding us of the last 2000 years of Jews living in Germany. There are also the many reminders of East Berlin and the existence of the Cold War here. Possibly most chilling is Sausenhausen concentration camp, just outside of Berlin, now a memorial and museum to the horrors that occurred. In the city, Jim pointed out at a U-Bahn station (the underground public transport) a sign remembering that at this station, Jews were sent to a variety of concentration camps throughout Germany and that this event was to never be forgotten. This U-Bahn stop was right outside KaDeWe, a giant, well-known department store where one could buy designer bags and basically anything else one wanted. My sister, Heather, visited in the past week and upon visiting some of the darker sites and noting that there were apartment buildings and homes just outside these memorials wondered what it would be like to live outside such locations. I immediately recalled my experiences in the hospital and how we learn to cope and reconcile the dark and light on a daily basis. It seems that Germany has learned this balance. They are able to rejoice in the freedom and happiness they currently hold and yet have made sure to never forget the darkness that is in their past.

Beginnings in Berlin

“I wish I could dance on a single prayer
I wish I could be strong without somebody there
I wish I could dance on a single prayer
I wish I could be strong without the scheiβe
I don’t speak German, but I wish I could”
-Lady Gaga

I’ve always wanted to go to Germany. I’ve called it “the land of my people.” Much of my family originated here and I can see it. I was worried about standing out and screaming “American” by my clothes and mannerisms. Actually, I blend right in. The blond hair, round face with cheekbones, and practical, comfortable clothing make me the average German woman. A German woman stopped me on the street asking something about a “bus stop.” My bewildered expression and poor explanation of not speaking German gave me away right away. Before coming here, I was told that in Europe “everybody speaks English” and that travelers “had no problem” during their vacations. I believed them, for when I traveled to Amsterdam a few years ago, I also no problems with language. I realize that tourists (including myself in Amsterdam) had no problems because they were tourists visiting tourist-y places. I’m not a tourist in this situation. I live here now. I even have two special pages in my passport dedicated to giving me permission to live here for a little while. The local grocer, corner store, pharmacy, etc. doesn’t deal with tourists. My neighborhood is a normal neighborhood with apartments, shops, restaurants, etc., but none of them geared toward tourists. My point is that most of the people in the businesses I go to aren’t used to Americans who can’t speak German. The museums, hotels, restaurants in the center of the city deal with lots of tourists and handle Americans with ease. In some ways I enjoy this, for when I travel I’m always interested in how the local people actually live. I usually want to live the way the locals do and try my hardest to not fall into tourist traps. Even last year when vacationing in Las Vegas, one of the most tourist-y destinations I can think of, I tried to get off the strip and see the rest of Vegas and try to understand where the people of Las Vegas lived and played. So here I am in Berlin, living like a real Berliner, shopping at Rewe (the grocery store), riding the U-Bahn, and not getting run over by bicyclists on their designated paths. I’m not a student that has been studying German language and culture who’s been longing to get over here and experience it. A while ago I thought that with our two professions of nursing and engineering, we’d be in the USA for the long haul with few opportunities for living abroad. I’m just a regular American nurse who ended up here with her spouse hoping to make an adventure out of this experience. The beginning of this experience is a little challenging and often isolating. However, I believe I may get the hang of things here and will get into a groove that works for me. In the meantime, I’ve been reading a number of good books in the safety of my own apartment and have been anxiously awaiting the arrival of our Internet hook-up so I can not only communicate with friends and family back home, but also research what is here for me to do and explore.