Maybe there is a reason for all those black overcoats and parkas that
Germans wear: The color most likely reflects their mood. It's a mood
that befits the weather, and the faces that accompany the mood speak
volumes. Sunshine changes people's outlook, as do lit candles and
glittery things that sparkle and reflect a child's smile. Well, I've
seen fairly little of all that over the past week, since leaving
Freising and Dortmund. Judging by their parkas and faces, Germans are a
pathetically unhappy bunch.
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| Happiness has a different face |
Sure, there was Christmas Eve, spent with
most of my immediate family at my bother's first ex-wife's place. Since
it was also my dad's 82nd birthday, it was a festive occasion, and there
were those candles, and my 15-year-old nephew, who lives with
Prader-Willi Syndrome, smiled a lot. We spent a harmonious evening, with
a catered turkey that I first mistook for a small ostrich, and copious
amounts of wine. The distribution of the gifts was interrupted at
strategic times to allow the adults to take a smoke break in the
kitchen—you can't just step outside when you live on the second floor of
a Berlin
Altbau without a balcony. Two smoke breaks equal lots of presents. It was a nice evening.
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| My nephew Jannick with some of his Christmas loot |
The rest of the time that I have spent here has been
fairly dull. Thanks to a heavy cold that I caught last week and that
just now, finally, is starting to ease up, I limited my outdoor
activities to daily walks around the neighborhood, mostly to escape the
particulate-laden atmosphere in my dad's apartment. The stench of cheap
cigarettes pervades everything, and when one has a cold, even a youth
spent as a non-smoker in a smoking household won't make a difference.
Sorry, but there is no diplomatic way around it: Staying with my dad for
this one single reason is really a sacrifice. I hate this stench.
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| Dad and my brother (plus a friend, rolling a cig) in front of a Polish tobacco shop |
Cigarettes are not cheap. I have no idea what they
cost in the US, but last night I saw in the supermarket that a pack of
20 cigs costs a whopping 5 euro, or just a tiny bit shy of $7. Ouch. So
my clever clan once in a while makes an excursion to nearby Poland
(about 100 km, or 60 miles) to buy tobacco products as well as some of
that well-seasoned polish sausage. Cigarettes cost less than half as in
Germany, and since there is a limit to how many cartons one can bring
back per person my presence was put to good use as I increased the
customs-allowed limits. Oh well. Sightseeing was not part of our
excursion, outside of the depressing market where live fish and
inexpensive haircuts are other attractions.
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| Live trout, carp (a Christmas delicacy!) and other fresh fish |
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| It's all in the display ... |
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| A Polish barber shop |
So, if my Christmas break comes across as a bit of a
downer, well, you read this post correctly. But dad is 82, and I know
that the opportunities to spend some time with him are dwindling
rapidly. Berlin certainly is not the Caribbean (and most definitely not
at this time of the year), and wrestling with a nasty cold is not going
to help, either. Once again I realize how difficult, no, impossible it
would be for me to return to this environment for not just long but
forever. Nothing like a healthy dose of reality once in a while.
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The x-mas trees haven't started to fall from the balconies yet, but this mattress did.
Viewed right in front of my dad's apartment in Neukölln. |
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| One wouldn't think one's in the capital of one of the globe's most prosperous nations. |
Alas, in 48 hours I will be back in the air,
finishing off this year's flight mile # 100,000 while heading back to
Lubbock, where my home is, thankfully. I am looking forward to 2014,
which I will ring in with friends on Tuesday night. I certainly won't cry
any big tears when 2013 is finally done. Happy New Year to you and
yours!
Jürgen
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