Fallen leaves

The Jewish museum, we were all a little nervous of how the displays would impact on us. The building itself is quite imposing, the new section is based around an exploded Star of David, and has slashes for windows to represent the cuts inflicted on the Jewish way of life through history.

I was keen to contextualise my grandmother's experience. She lived in Berlin, and is Jewish. Born in 1916, she was a teenager when antisemitism was gathering pace. We saw photos of signs posted around the country with anti-Jewish sentiments. Many Jews came to Berlin at this time from smaller towns and villages as the big city offered more anonymity and protection. My grandmother may have been amongst them; her past is unclear as she rarely speaks of her childhood. Unfortunately, she has dementia and her few stories are often muddled and frequently repeated.

There was a walkway devoted to the axis of exile. Many Jews emigrated to other countries in the years leading up to WWII. My grandmother travelled to London. I'm unsure of the year. There were, however, restrictions on what they could take; only possessions they could prove they owned before 1933, wedding rings were allowed, as was silverware.

It was sobering to think that moving to a strange land, speaking a new language with only your clothes and your knives and forks was a better option than staying in your own country. Thank goodness my grandmother chose this. Staying behind was documented by a series of artefacts donated by families of victims of the holocaust. The statistics of the number of Jews murdered during this time is shocking, but reading the stories associated with aged photographs, dolls, teddies, letters and drawings painfully brought home that all those murdered were individuals, all with a life lived, with family and friends.

The holocaust tower was a very powerful building. Lit only by natural light, from a small slit way above your head. Not heated and dark, you could make out traffic noise from outside. All you could do was stare at the chink of light and hope.

Moving on to an exhibition commissioned for the space. Called Shalekhet 'fallen leaves' consisted on 10000 faces made of thick metal plates. All crying out. You could walk over the pieces which made a powerful clinking noise. Like the sound of a noisy canteen, but much more sinister. We spent quite some time in there. Maisie felt guilty and uncomfortable walking on the faces, but was compelled to do it anyway. I explained my interpretation - that's what you do, you walk on people's past experience, and build on it to make a better life. Remember those faces and what they represent, move forward and challenge inequality and persecution. A very powerful piece, used the space and the sentiment of the building's architecture vey well.

After a quick look at the temporary exhibition, R.B. Kitaj, I realised I didn't like his work as much as I thought, maybe too much of it one place. His strongest works were those addressing his Jewishness. He was clearly a very talented artist, and there were elements of all of his works on display that I could appreciate.

Off to check point Charlie, a quick photo opportunity. A quick look in the gift shop (we were too museumed-out to got to another). Maisie said "I know where all the wall has gone, they are selling it look!" Yes indeed, you could buy bits of concrete reported to be part of the wall. Why you would want to is anyone's guess.

Afternoon tea and a traditional German konditorei was needed at this point. We managed to be attracted by the bright lights of the Rittersport cafe/shop. Hardly traditional, but warm, cosy and the promise of hot Rittersport chocolate was too good to resist! We were not disappointed. We may have purchased some chocolate too. Well, it would have been rude not to.

sprechen sie deutsch?

Half term and time for a trip...

We arrive at the airport at the appointed time, terminal 3 Manchester. I look for the flight details on the check in board, Leanne says "I've already checked in we don't need to check in." That's fine, but I can't see the flight on the board. Leanne says it won't be there as the gate won't be displayed yet. I insist it should still be on the board. We repeat this conversation maybe more times than was strictly necessary. Eventually, I ask a nice British Airways woman, who says, no that's terminal 1 you will be needing... off we potter. The stress of getting up at 3 a.m. was starting to show. We find the departure gate without much difficulty, it's amazing how being at the correct terminal can help with this.

We fly, we get train tickets, we arrive at the rented apartment; all good.

Trying out my best German to buy pretzels and a ham and cheese thing for Maisie, words were flowing, Bitter, Danke, Schinken (ham), anyone would think I was fluent. Unfortunately, I then blow it by trying to pay the guy the time it was displaying on the till, not the Euros #doh! I didn't retrieve the situation by saying some random numbers in German, it was all too late. The guy was, however, fairly understanding. 

We had a few other language challenges, particularly when going to pay for stuff. The lovely check out person would say something, we would stare blankly like rabbits in headlights, checkout person would repeat incomprehensible sentence. Eventually we managed to mumble out the word 'English' and they would repeat the sentence in perfect English. One bloke even sorted out my change for me, bless!

Back to the trip...We walk to Alexander Platz and catch a tourist bus to get our bearings. We all loved seeing the East Side gallery, the longest remaining stretch of wall with painting by various artists (with some amendments by graffiti artists). The sun was setting, the light was beautiful, it was all quite moving. 

My Grandmother comes from Berlin so it felt like I was getting in touch with my roots. I was looking forward to exploring and discovering over the next few days.