Wir wollen die Eisbären sehen!

That's what the fans sing - all 14.000 or so fans that fill the O2-Arena on a Friday night for an ice hockey game. WiseMan and I are trying to visit all the major league sports teams in Berlin. We've been to handball and soccer, of course. I've hit volleyball and we've both been to the basketball team.

Tonight it was the Berlin Ice Hockey club "Eisbären". We were soooo underdressed - seemed everyone else had an oversized jersey on and at least one shawl tied to a wrist. Many had a shawl on each wrist, one or two around the neck and a rather silly polar bear hat on.

We had great seats - fourth row! But you couldn't tell the players apart except for their numbers on their jerseys. They are anonymous fighting creatures, not individuals playing on a team like in soccer or handball. And oh my, fighting.... one guy got sent off for 2 minutes for an infraction + 10 minutes because he was particulary nasty about it + 10 minutes for arguing with the referee about it.

What a musical bunch! The fans sing along, they do a kind of song and echo, they jump up and wave the shawls on their wrists to the Can-Can when there is a goal. Pittiplatsch comments on the goals as well. I suppose since this club has its roots in Eastern Berlin, this is fitting.

They play three thirds with 20 minutes break between each third. I found the breaks far too long, although I suppose it is in order to sell more beer.

Anyway, they won 6:3 and the fans went home happy.

I know you!

I was accompanying WiseMan to a Christmas party in his department that one of the postdocs was hosting. The postdoc had also included families and kids that their kids knew from school and kindergarten, so there were quite a lot of kids milling around.

After most of the kids left and we were able to enjoy the punch in relative quiet, the woman sitting next to me stood up to gather up her kids. She stared at me, and then exclaimed "I know you!" I'm used to people kind of knowing me, so I just smiled, as I had no idea who she was.

"You were my advisor for my thesis!" Oh my. I just counted - I have had 145 theses that I have advised over the past 18 years. When she said her name, I recognized the name, but could not remember the topic. But I asked what she was doing, and was very happy to hear that she had a great job at a largish company here in Berlin. And we connected up on a possible project with another professor in my department.

Berlin ist ein Dorf, as they say here, Berlin, this place is a small village. That's one of the things I like about this city.

Lulu

WiseMan has insisted that we go to the theater more often instead of vegging out on the sofa with Tatort or Wallendar. He's right, we both actually love theater, it's just the hassle of a) finding an evening and b) deciding which one to go to, Berlin has so many theaters.

We used to belong to a theater club (Freie Volksbühne), it was kind of neat. The cheapest subscription was "we give you two tickets to a theater about every six weeks, we choose the day and the theater". You had to pay more for just Friday nights, or just a specific night, or a certain amount of opera included. We really loved this, as the seats were actually rather good. We've sat way down front (and gotten wet at the Schaubühne, but that's another story) and seen some great plays - and some rubbish. We feel free to leave at the break if it's bad - we've already paid for it. That's also the thing - we would make time for the play, because we had already paid for it.

Anyway, all sorts of stuff got in the way and we canceled our subscription. "We'll just choose the plays we want to see and go when we please." And we never seemed to get out to the theater. So we are restarting a theater-going phase, and WiseMan decided it needed to be Lulu by Frank Wedekind.

The city is in some kind of Wedekind fever. Two theaters are playing Lulu and one is playing Frühlings Erwachen (Spring awakening). WiseKidGirlFriend had to read the latter in school and they went to see the play. She hated it.

We had seen Lulu in Hamburg in 1988, the year of the world premiere. Wedekind had spent more than 20 years on this, putting together two of his other plays, Erdgeist (Earth spirit) and Büchse der Pandora (Pandora's box). Since most of his plays have to do with death and sex, he never actually was able to get Lulu presented while he lived. Peter Zadek did the production in Hamburg with the divine Susanne Lothar playing Lulu.

It was the first time we were at the Deutsches Schauspielhaus in Hamburg, and we went there many times. Get on the train in Kiel, get off at Hauptbahnhof, have dinner at the steak house across from the station, go down a block or so to the theater, see the play, get the last train back to Kiel. Easy-peasy.

I had already been in Germany for 12 years, so I thought my German was good, but I didn't understand much of what was happening, other than Lulu died. They passed out Loulou perfume to all the women, and I liked that so much that I actually wore it after that for years.

Anyway. We chose Robert Wilson's production of Lulu at the Berliner Ensemble with the 65-year-old beloved German actress Angela Winkler as Lulu, Brecht's theater and got our tickets. Then the reviews started to pour in. They hate it. FAZ finds subtle words for her displeasure, Tagesspiegel declares it a failure, the Berliner Morgenpost tries to figure out why the audience seems to like it, Berliner Zeitung focuses on the music by Lou Reed ("Lulu-Lala mit Lou"), heaping scorn on the rest.

Oh well, we can leave at the break. The tickets are paid for.

We got ticket to the Monday evening show, in which someone from the theater gives an overview of what will be happening and answers questions. We had none other than Claus Peymann, the artistic director of the Berliner Ensemble, telling us about Lulu and answering our questions.

And now to the play - did I understand it now? No. Wilson repeats the death scene a few times to make that abundantly clear. The figures are like marionettes, there is not much of a plot visible. The little old lady who runs across the set on occasion muttering funny things is golden! The music is excellent and does remind at times of Laurie Anderson :) Most of the actors can't really sing, but they do give it a try!

It was not a thought provoking evening, but it was not bad enough for us to leave. One was fascinated to see what was going to happen next. Oh, and the shows are all sold out, so damn the critics, full speed ahead!

Back to Public Transit

Happy New Year!

I made myself take public transit again today. The light rail has not been running regularly in Berlin for weeks (Stop the presses! It snows in Europe in winter!), so I've had a grand excuse to take the car to work. But I do have a yearly pass, and I need to get some use out of it.

The way to work wasn't bad, I read in a thesis and had a lovely chat with some women computing students on the second train. We continued on the tram, discussing man-in-the-middle attacks, I love talks like this.

The way back was vile. I did have a nice chat with another student in the tram, but the little train was packed solid heading back into town and I had to change trains once. Then I decided to take the bus in order to get a present for a friend's birthday tomorrow.

Nothing came. No bus. I could have walked it in the time I waited. And since it had been so long, the bus was packed. And the door wouldn't close. The weary bus driver hollers at people to get off the middle door thing. These modern busses won't close the doors if they think someone is standing in the way, but they are far too sensitive.

There's a yellow warning area painted, and a larger box around. I helped a tourist step out of the box, but the door wouldn't close. The bus driver gives another shout, and then a smart aleck tells me to move my butt. I am *not* standing in the box. I am not standing in the yellow area. I am standing in a crowded bus. A sharp discussion ensues. I finally shove back into the woman behind me, and the door closes.

What gives? Why can't they paint the area that you are not supposed to stand on? Or fix the buses to let the drivers close them? Instead everyone gets angry at everyone else. The smart aleck keeps on at me about how stupid I am not to move. I point out that I was not near the painted area and am glad that I only have to endure 3 stops of this.

Next time I walk.

The Berlin Marathon 2010

This year was a special marathon in Berlin. We've always enjoyed going out and cheering people on (and wondering what drives all these thousands of people to run 42.195 kilometers or so in just a few hours). A friend used to run and we'd try and spot him.

But this year my good friend from Iceland is over with her running group - and she is running her first marathon the far side of 50. Crazy. Anyway, she came Thursday and we had a great time in the evening and on Friday. Yack-yack-yack all the time, like as if we hadn't seen each other for a few years (only on Facebook).

We dropped by to pick up her number at the Templehof airport. My glory, they have it set up so you have to walk past ALL of the stands of companies flogging shoes, clothes, special food, more marathons, and assorted stuff. The inner sanctum was only permitted for registered runners, so I waited outside. I killed time playing the assorted contests and won a nice travel coffee mug ;)

After getting the number and wolfing down some delicious garlic bread with tomatoes and mozzarella cheese we headed out to my school so I could show her where I work. We ended up at the cafe next to our school, directly on the Spree River. It was a wonderful, warm, late summer's day.

Saturday we organized a pasta party for her and her husband and her good friend who is running with her with her husband. We had 5 different kinds of pasta, 2 sauces and 3 pestos. It was delicious, but of course, the runners will run those calories off, I won't.

Their hotel, while nice, and glad of all the customers coming because of the marathon, was not willing to offer breakfast for the runners at 6 am. So they bought some toast and breakfast stuff and I loaned them my toaster.

It started to rain Saturday evening, and the rain continued all through Sunday. What a horrible weather to run in! The TV station that had paid lots of money for the rights to send the helicopter pictures was in panic, as the helicopters could not start, so they were scrambling to get cameras on the ground somewhere. The quality was not very good.

We stood out in the pouring rain, and managed to pick her out of the crowd, giving some rousing Icelandic cheers (Áfram, stelpa!) in the few seconds it took for her to jog past. She finished in a good time (4:30), I don't think I could have biked it in much less.

I joined to Icelanders for dinner. I had suggested a Berliner Restaurant, Zur Gerichtslaube, and we had reserved a table for 20. They had a separate room upstairs, the Ratsherrenstube, just for the group. The runners had their medals on, and enjoyed good German beer and wine and pork knuckles and pork roasts and sauerkraut and rotkraut and dumplings and fried potatoes ....... I opted for a cheese-stuffed fried pear that was actually quite good. 

They described the pain, that horrible last kilometer, but also how great it was that so many people were on the sidelines cheering them on. They see Berlin as a very sympathetic city, and apparently the businesses in town do a very good business with the runners, so it 's a win-win situation.

I'm still not planning on running myself. Handball is quite enough, thank you!

ChaoS-Bahn

Ach. The light-rail trains in Berlin are only running on half-schedule, with some lines completely out. The federal train oversight board had warned the S-Bahn to check their wheels, and again after an accident a few months ago.
"Yeah, sure, we'll do a special check," they had said. And ignored the request.

The federal train oversight board hit back, requiring about 1/3 of the fleet to be taken out of service immediately, and threatening to revoke the license of the S-Bahn, which is a 100% daughter of the German DB train system. They were planning on going public, and were in the process of bleeding their daughters dry. The S-Bahn in Berlin paid a whopping 32 million Euros to Mama last year, and was expected to pony up 50 million this year. The "savings" were created by closing up the shops, junking old but servicable cars, and firing skilled workers.

So now they have not enough room in the shops, not enough skilled workers, and not enough money. And the Berliners are madder than all get out. The Berlin government reduced their monthly payment by a third.

I should be so lucky - we bought a monthly pass just a day before this all started. I used to need 50 minutes to work, the car takes 25 on a good day. Now, with the trains running only every 20 minutes, I need 70 minutes to get to work. Standing. In a hot, packed car (because they shortened the train sets). Okay, there's a lot of traffic now that many people are driving instead, but I was really angry about the now useless monthly pass.

The ChaoS-Bahn announced that all yearly ticket holders who were still with them in December would ride for free. On all of the Berlin public transport, not just the S-Bahn. Well, whoopdiedoo, but what about us poor folk who bought monthly passes and not yearly ones? I wrote a nastygram asking for them to refund half my money. I thought that was appropriate.

Today there was a loooooong call on the answering machine. From the S-Bahn. An apologetic older gentleman wanted to tell me in person how sorry he is that the S-Bahn screwed up and everyone is doing the best they can. But there are no plans to reimburse monthly pass holders. I can, however, purchase a yearly ticket (!) and then I will get an extra free month!

You kind of have to admire the logic - great for them, but this chaos is projected to continue on until fall. I think I'll pass on this offer.

A Berlin Driver

Walking along a busy street yesterday I heard a car honk loud and long. I looked over (somehow, one thinks that there will be something interesting happening when you hear a loud noise). A fancy Mercedes sportscar had felt itself cut off by the person driving in front who had changed lanes suddenly on account of the lane being blocked. The poor Mercedes had had to brake.

The driver honked and honked. At the next light, the woman driver got out of her car and ran up to the car in front of her, banging on the window and shouting at the poor driver of the preceding car. She ranted and cursed, but got back in her car in time to drive off at the light change - and overtook the "offender" and braked suddenly, to pay him back, so to say.

No matter that she was wrong - the following car is responsible for driving so that they can brake safely at all times. Berliners can get so aggressive when they feel that someone has slighted them.

The Power of the Press

WiseMan is taking a course this week on the power of the media in Berlin. They are visiting different media - newspaper, TV, radio - and understanding how the media shape how we see the world.

This evening was a visit to the Axel Springer printing plant on the outskirts of Berlin. For some reason, half the course had said they were not coming. I asked if I could tag along, and I could.

I had been there in about 2000, I was teaching a course in the print technology program and followed along with an excursion to the plant. There were lots of very technical questions asked on that visit, this one was more superficial.

But this time we got to watch the paper rolls getting changed. Wow - tip of the hat to technology here! The printing plant goes through about 200 rolls of newsprint a day, each weighing 1.5 tons and holding 16 kilometers of paper. The girl doing the tour said: everyone asks me how many pages of newspaper that is, but I just don't know. Duh, do the math. According to the DIN norm, the newspapers in question are printed in Nordic format, 570 mm × 400 mm. They are printed four-up, so the theoretical number of physical pages (consisting of 4 newspaper pages) would be:

• 16 km = 16 000 meter = 1 600 000 cm = 16 000 000 mm
• Divide by width of paper, which is 570 mm, giving 28 070 sheets
• Times 4 for four-up is 112 280 sheets
• Times 4 for four printed pages is 449 120 pages.
  

So even with a bit of garbage, it is churning out 400 000 pages per roll, or about 80 million newspapers printed and distributed every day. Not all of these are read, of course.

Anyway - the roll changer is a piece of mechanical beauty. There are three rolls at a station: one currently feeding the printing tower, one exchanger, and the next one in, ready to be pushed in by an unmanned robot. As the feeder gets down to about 30 cm, an alarm sounds and everything slowly cranks into place. The expiring roll descends, the paper slows down a bit, but doesn't stop. The replacement is raised, and begins to spin, getting faster until it gets up to the same speed. A belt pushes it gently down, and a special strip of tape lets the paper stick onto the expiring roll, which tears off and is swung out of the way. The new roll has taken over, and the left-over paper (now called a stick) is fetched by a robot container called a dog. The waiting roll now gets pushed in and mounted, and is ready to roll into place in another 20 minutes or so.

Just fantastic!

The speed of all the machines - the conveyor belts, the overhead rails carrying off newspaper bits off to intermediate storage or to inserters that can put up to 7 inserts into one main newspaper book or the packagers - all work at breakneck speed. When they foul up (as happened as we were at the inserter station) they have to dig a lot of screwed up paper from the machines before they can restart the process.

The scary thing is that there are almost no people here. Just a few guys making the plates, and a handful of printers fussing with the color on the printing towers. In all, the guide said, they only have 370 people working at the printing plant, most of them in logistics. Everything else is automatic. And still, the guide said that it costs over double the stand price just to produce a newspaper, which is why they have so much advertising. I would be interested in knowing if she is right, it seems strange for the costs to be so high.

Tempelhof

She stands in the evening sun, silent and majestic, open arms stretched out to all, inviting them in to wander through her high, cathedral-like hall. We took some Swedish friends who are visiting to look around the Templehof Airport, and we were not alone. There were more tourists, I think, than passengers, because the airport is supposed to be closing soon. Closing now to "make way" for a large airport outside of the city that won't be finished maybe until 2011.

Tempelhof is in the middle of town, you can take a subway there, an S-train stops not too far away, you drive right by it on your many paths through the city. Only the small airlines are left here, you can travel from Berlin to Brussels, Mannheim, Växjö. They are waiting, and hoping for a miracle - a miracle that would keep the airport alive.

A rather motley alliance put forth a general referendum and collected enough signatures to force a vote: The citizens of Berlin kindly request that their government get off their duffs and quit acting like f-ing idiots and quit all this nonsense talk about closing the airport.

The closing was decided 20 years ago. They still don't have any idea what they would do with the area. Maybe a park? Maybe some apartments (although Berlin has tons empty)? Maybe a clinic? Helicopters could still land here.

Berliners tend to have very fond memories of Templehof. The Air Bridge that American pilots ran here, starting and landing every 3 minutes round the clock brought food and fuel into the city during the blockade. It kept the citizens alive. The stars arrived here. The first air vacations were started here. It was jobs. Sure, it was loud, but in a way it was a comfy old friend.

Most Berliners were rather indifferent to the election until about a week ago when the Lord Mayor, Klaus Wowereit, did a typical political foot-in-mouth stunt. He announced to the media that he didn't give a flying farkle what the result of the referendum was. He was going to close the airport, full stop.

Well, if there's one thing Berliners don't like, that is people telling them what they have to think. They didn't go through the Cold War and the Blockade and the German Democratic Republic and the fall of the wall to have some party guy telling them off. They are enraged, and the media is having a feeding frenzy.

I just got back from voting - a steady stream of voters, I had to stand in line. Of course, they redrew the districts so that there would be less polling places and thus more voters per polling place. A vote like this is easy to count: make two piles, yes and no, and count them. End of story. No re-sorting for first and second vote. Don't need a computer for this. For some reason they are not expecting the results until 3 hours after the polls close.

We shall see if the Lord Mayor will be served a dish of crow this evening. But which ever way it goes, his chances of ever getting out of Berlin and being maybe Chancellor of Germany went down drastically in the past week. Stay tuned.

Update: No such luck. 60% of the voters wanted to keep the airport, but with a turnout of only 35% the needed quorum (25% of the voters must vote yes, they just missed this) was narrowly missed. So she gets closed down. Maybe they'll put in a parking lot.....

Pink lights?

When my Dad drove though a crossing for which the light had already turned yellow, he used to always say: "That was a pink one!", i. e. not quite dark red.

I spent a lot of time driving in town this week for various reasons and I had a lot of chances to observe people driving through on "pink" lights:

• Numerous drivers who, upon seeing yellow, floored it instead of stopping;
• A van driver who just kept tooling along, but of course, he was yakking in his mobile phone (forbidden in Germany, btw) making it kind of difficult to react to everything;
• A two-trailer truck coming from the left at a Y-junction, barreling down with at least 50-60 kmh just as I was accelerating (scared the living daylights out of me);
• A taxi driver (with a passenger!) who was turning left and did not enter the crossing until after the light turned red - he could have lost his taxt license (rightly so!) if a cop had seen this stunt.

This is not to mention the honks I got for doing 30 in a new 30 zone (a bridge which is in danger of falling down!) or not passing a truck fast enough. That last lady was on my tailgate, flashing her lights, although we were in town and I was doing 50 trying to get past this horrible last truck. Okay, I was then being childish myself, I knew there was a 2-lanes-going-to-1 coming up, so I got over and managed to overtake her on the right, she had to let me in just in front of her.

Don't get me started on the bicyclists or the kids running across the street against a red light to catch a bus or the folks double- or triple-parking. I am truely amazed that there are not more accidents in town with all this "the law is only valid for everyone else, not for me, I'm in a hurry."

For sure, I now follow the old pedestrian sage "Look both ways before crossing the street" when driving my car, even if I have a green light.

Back in Berlin

It was so wonderful being away from Berlin for 6 weeks! I even forgot my telephone number and bank account number, not having used either for that length of time.

It is such a culture shock being back in this enormous, loud, dirty, and very complex city. Now, how did I normally get from A to B? There are new constructions sites and train work schedules that are of course not posted as that was reported in the papers when they started work. Lots of surprises every day.

Riding the subway / elevated trains was especially jarring. People are so loud and use their mobile phones constantly to discuss banalities. Or they conduct their real-life, face-to-face relationship dramas out in public, including screaming matches and sobbing.

On the other hand, there is a lot going on here. Your choices out in the country are severely limited, so reading is indeed a great option. I've been easing in, just took in a handball game on Wednesday. For this weekend the options just floored me that I took a cop out and invited a young friend who turned 20 yesterday out - she should pick what she wants to do and I'll just accompany her and foot the bill. Let's just hope it is not a hip-hop concert....