HAMEDY: Berlin and Prague edition

Paul, my tour guide in Berlin, took our group to a parking lot.

As we stood in front of him, slightly confused, he told us a little bit about the surrounding apartments – you know, how they were built right after World War II, yadda yadda, and then he pauses and says:

“This parking lot is on top of Hitler’s bunker. You are standing on top of Hitler’s bunker.”

Paul. You must be daft or lying – Where is the historic plaque? Why is this sealed? Why doesn’t anyone know about it?

But Paul wasn’t lying. This wasn’t a tourist gimmick – this was the truth. The group fell silent. Suddenly, the cold concrete slabs bellow my feet weren’t just where cars parked – it was where history came alive.

That is pretty much how I felt as I walked through the streets of Berlin – it was like stepping into my history books from high school and seeing everything first-hand. Obviously when you learn things in school you believe them . . . but they only stick with you for however long you need it to stick with you, i.e. until your exams.

Unless you are a history major, you tend to forget history – except the details that hit you hardest, like how many people died in the Holocaust and who Hitler was.  I’ll admit I am a big history buff, but I only really fell in love with American history. It was more simple. More relevant. More useful knowledge to have in the U.S. as an American citizen.

I’d travelled to Germany before, back in the 12th grade when my choir took an Eastern Europe tour through Budapest, Vienna, Salzburg and Munich. Perhaps it hit me hard in Berlin because I am older now. Or maybe it’s just because I am more aware. Whatever it was, history seemed more real than ever.

Paul took us everywhere, it seemed – the Holocaust memorial, the Berlin Wall, “checkpoint Charlie.” The city’s history is dark. I can’t believe a small wall determined so many people’s lives – up until the wall fell, no one could cross into West Berlin from East Berlin, unless you lived in West Berlin or were an ambassador from another state. We felt awkward smiling by the wall in photos but it was a must-take picture for our parents – look dad, I’m standing by something important!

Graffiti was plastered all over the city – from the train stations to the Berlin Wall it self, the art form was not just common, it was a normal site. Food revolved around schnitzel, naturally, and goulash (beef).

As far as nightlife goes, for the most part it starts at midnight and ends at sunrise. We stumbled upon a club called “Weekend” that was on the 13th floor of an office building and had views of the Berlin skyline.

But our adventures didn’t stop there. After a hilarious and exhausting five-hour bus ride from Berlin (in which they screened “Time Traveler’s Wife” – it’s as if they knew three chick-flick loving Boston University students were on board), we reached Prague, Czech Republic. First observation: Crow? Crowne? Crowes? What is the Czech currency and why is it so complex? The answer is “koruna” like Corona but pronounced “crow.”

A bowl of Goulash stew later, we passed out at our hostel early and woke up ready for a three-and-a-half hour walking tour of Prague, similar to the one in Berlin.

It was during this tour I realized Prague has only been independent for 22 years – only two years longer than I’ve been around! The country went from being occupied by Nazis to being run by Communist Russia. (Sidenote: Ironically, the Communist Museum in Prague is now next to a McDonalds. Capitalism prevails?)

Prague is colorful and beautiful – it kind of looks like Disney took hints for their movies, especially drawing inspiration from the castles and cathedrals. I’m pretty sure Cinderella could have gotten married exactly where we toured. Not even the crisp cold air could bother us as we strolled through the cobblestone streets.

Hitler, apparently, liked Prague too. According to my tour guide, he wanted to retire there after the war and he planned on preserving the then-Jewish ghetto so that it could become a museum/exhibit for “the extinct race.” Twisted, right?

Fortunately, the Jewish ghetto is completely in tact and no longer a ghetto. In fact, it’s one of the more wealthy neighborhoods and is filled with buildings that survived World War II, including the oldest synagogue in all of Europe.

A lot of tourists who we asked for directions asked us in return, “Why Berlin and Prague?” We always just shook our heads not really knowing what to say. And even though we didn’t have a clear reason for choosing those two Eastern European cities, I’m pretty glad we did. Besides, when else will I get to Czech out (see what I did there?) Prague and Berlin?

Saba Hamedy is a College of Communication and College of Arts and Sciences junior, Fall 2011 editor-in-chief of The Daily Free Press and now a weekly columnist. She can be reached at sbhamedy@bu.edu.