Eintrittskarte: A ticket to Berlin’s Strange

by Aleksandra Božović (Serbia)

I didn't expect to find Germany

We had traveled together before, a small group of young women, friends since high school, and always with the same formula. We’d decide on one of Europe’s culturally and historically significant cities based on low-cost flight tickets, find a hotel in a convenient area and still affordable enough for university students, and then, research the landmarks we wanted to see. Our approach to planning a “blitz” trip to Berlin was no different; yet, a badly-organized item on our list led to a deeper understanding of the city’s odd contemporary identity. We rushed through Rosenthaler Straße, ignoring the streets many trendy shops while in search of street number 39. We had visited the Berlin Wall a day before, and were reminded of the fact that we were in the center of a tragic historical event, theWorld War II. I saw the messages littering the wall: those of anger and protest, as well as those of hope and resilience. We now found ourselves in a different Berlin, one that had moved on from its past, as much as it was possible to move on from a relatively recent event with grave impact. Even though we walked quickly from the underground railroad station, U-Bahn, due to the cold afternoon, we were clearly struck by what the city had become. The buzzing street belonged to one of the world’s strongest economies and and the scene of consumer consumption was on a monotone rainy day made brighter by neon shop logos and billboards. We finally arrived at number 39 and reached for our cameras with cold fingers, unsure of what awaited beyond the dark passageway. I had only read that it was the location of an alternative robotic-creature art show, and was surprised to find myself in an open-space between buildings. The concrete box with no lid and sides covered with colorful graffiti seemed to be stuck between the two Berlins we had had a chance to see. A street art portrait of Ann Frank symbolized the town’s connection to its dark past; but, the girl’s smile still suggested an option for a brighter future. A convenient bike rack next to the graffiti portrait, and a modern “Moviemento” cinema portrayed the regular high-function European city. The place’s grunge and grimy look, reminiscent of a rebellious teenagers non-coherent aesthetic choices, made up of posters plastered over half-torn posters, and stickers and street art morphing into a dappled sea of color, was offset by a calm nuclear family going to the movies. We bought tickets, or Eintrittskarte, to the art show which led us to Rosenthaler Straße in the first place. The Eintrittskarte were are ticket to Berlin’s strage since they led us to number 39. This corner of the city was odd, but a truer image to the town’s contemporary urban character when compared to the old and new Berlin more usual sights portray.