Prelim Thoughts on: Being a Minority in Berlin

What's it mean to be a minority in Germany? Not sure I can readily answer that one. However, I have some preliminary thoughts on the matter. As a cautionary note, keep in mind that I've not spent significant time outside of Berlin. So, this is really about what's it like to be a minority in Berlin, not in the rest of Germany (with which I am wholly unfamiliar).

I've randomly accosted people of color everywhere to ask them one question. "What's it like being a minority in Germany?" Of those I've so accosted, and perhaps frightened a little, the variety of answers has been interesting and unpredictable. First, I had this discussions with my local Turkish corner store guys in Neu Köln. The Turkish minority in Berlin shares some similarities to the AA population in the U.S. They are the largest minority by far in Germany. In some respects, they are the FIRST minority. They're more likely to be involved in criminal activities and they're often styled in urban outfits. They feel like black people. At least the men do. So many of the women wear headscarves and exclusively look after children, it's hard to compare their lives with the average African American female. As for their integration into the greater German society, there are Turkish-Germans who remain rather isolated in their own enclave while others have integrated a bit better. On the whole, I might describe Turks in Berlin as being similar to AA persons in the deep South. Though an integral part of the general Berlin community, they remain largely within their own sub-communities.

Although I've said their experience most closely parallels that of AA persons in the U.S., AA persons in the U.S. clearly are far more integrated into the American fabric than are persons of Turkish origin here. We are a most critical component of the American experience, what America means as a country and, indeed, as a symbol. We were written into the Constitution (though only as 3/5 of a person, but who's counting? Apparently white southern slaveowners at the time lol.). Since blacks in America generally arrived at the same time as whites (mid 17th C.), there's a much longer history of co-existence (though on enduringly unequal terms) than experienced by the Turkish minority here. We inter-marry at rates that dwarf that experienced between Turks and Germans. In fact, it's almost unheard of for a Turkish woman to marry a German man, and almost as rare for a Turkish man. And the weird thing is, this includes "Turkish" persons who have been born and raised in Germany and know no other culture. These aren't people who arrived on a metaphorical boat (like Gov. Schwarzenegger of California). This last point really highlights the extent to which these countries, the U.S. and Germany, have different attitudes towards immigrants and what it means to emerge from that boat.

Along this last line, there is no sense of persons of Turkish origin being, for example, trend-setters, culturally, here as is the case for AA persons in the U.S. It's clear from discussing this issue with white Germans, that they have no sense of Turkish people as trend-setters in almost any regard and, certainly, nowhere near the magnitude of the influence that blacks have in the U.S. That said, I've seen similar levels of misunderstanding, stigmatization, stereotyping, etc. against Turkish persons that one might experience with respect to AA persons in the U.S. Many Germans, with whom I have discussed Turkish people, clearly harbor quite negative stereotypes about persons of Turkish origin that just barely manage to remain beneath the surface. In these regards, the Turkish experience feels quite similar to that of blacks in the U.S.

And now, the brothers. I've had (or created) a few opportunities to discuss this issue with some Afro-Germans. Naturally, I have been highly interested in their experiences. One black dentist, born in Leipzig (former east Germany) articulated his frustration at not really having a place that feels like home (other than New York City). Born of a Ghanaian father and German mother, he's lived here his entire life. However, at almost 40, he grew up in the former East Germany. Needless to say, no other black people near him. He's only every experienced himself as a person of "Migrationshintergrund" or migratory background as they say here. Almost sounds like a bird thing. Worse yet, when he returns to his father's homeland, Ghana, he feels no more at home and is treated similarly as an outsider, if additionally one who has the means to give money/loans to all of his distant cousins.

I also accosted a young man, 19, of African descent who is German. Though he said he felt German, he did express the outsiderness that he feels even as one who's born and raised here. He wonders, when people won't sit next to him on the train, whether it's his color, which is beautiful, or whether he smells on that day. On the one hand, he's German, it's all he knows and his language ability marks him immediately as a native speaker. However, he's different. He's a person of migratory background, someone of impermanence, someone who won't be here too long, hopefully. And finally, I spoke with a guy I went on a date with. He's African, Ghanaian and has been here for 18 years. He married a white German woman and has two beautiful children. She knew he was gay when she married him, for love. What are women thinking of sometimes? After 18 years of being here (since he was 18-19), he continues to feel like an outsider. He only dates black men and feels objectified within the white gay community. For me, of course, a little objectification during sex is not a bad thing. But it apparently pisses him off. Oh well, more objectification for me (see my last blog entry, the one in German, for more on this objectification question). That's roughly my sense of the black experience here.

Finally, as usual, there's the Asian experience. I've recently met several persons of Asian origin. These have all been young persons (under 24) and all born/raised in various parts of Germany. Although each of these persons mentioned being harassed a little as children, they each also stated that, since that time, they've only ever felt completely German. They feel completely integrated into the general society and have no concept of themselves as being "other". My immediate thought was that they must be similar to Asian Americans in the U.S. Their families have come to Germany for similar reasons (war, poverty, political upheaval, economic opportunity) as their U.S. counterparts. I cannot say, however, that from the conversations I've had with Germans of Asian origin, that they are either considered the model minority or have this kind of self-concept. In America, this title denotes so many things. It contrasts Asian Americans with African Americans and Latinos that are self-evidently NOT model minorities. It bespeaks the various stats that show Asian Americans at the highest end of test scores and scholastic achievement in the U.S. It represents a little golden badge for, generally, having not complained all that much about the inequities they have faced. It's not clear that Germans of Asian origin have either performed at such levels, comparatively speaking.

What is clear is that, at least amongst the younger generations, they have integrated to a degree far greater than the other two groups. That said, I've seen far more black/white interracial couples (almost exclusively amongst heteros) than I have Asian/German couples. Big contrast from the U.S. in which one sees tons of Asian/white couples (especially white men/asian females). Not really sure what this is about. On the one hand, from my little anecdotal sample, the Asian-Germans have the highest degree of integration, or at least the highest personal sense of being integrated into the culture. But, they seem to have the lowest degree, even lower than that of Turkish Germans, of cross-cultural dating. Is this a result of sheer numbers; there just aren't enough Asian-Germans for this to be noticeable at all? Are Asian-Germans different from their American counterparts regarding their tendency to date white people (that's hard to imagine)? Do Germans simply not have the same erotic ideals about Asian women (since that's probably really what we're talking about here) as their white American counterparts? No way to know.

That's all I can say at this point about being a minority in Berlin. And remember, Berlin is by far and away the most multi-cultural city in Germany. The experiences of these minorities likely only gets worse in direct proportion to the distance away from Berlin (or a couple other major cities).

Eine Unterschiedliche Kultur

Jetzt kommt mein erster Eintrag auf Deutsch. Ich geh davon aus, daß meine Freunde erwartet haben, daß ich unbedingt auf Deutsch schreiben müß. Ich benutze diese Gelegenheit meine erste Erfahrung in Berghain zu beschreiben. Zuerst, eine kleine Geschichte.

Diejenigen, die ich in Berlin kennengelernt (oder einfach nur getroffen) hab', werden vielleicht nicht wissen, daß ich seit neun Wochen hier gewesen bin. Während dieser Zeit, hab' ich natürlich mir oft überlegt ins Berghain reinzugehen. Da ich drüber, aber, so viele schleckte Meinungen gelesen hab', hat es mich nicht so stark angezogen. Ich wüßte, daß ich eventuell gehen würde, ich hab' mich aber wirklich nicht beeilt. Ich bin in einigen Sinnen ein Typ, der sich ganz schnell an seine Gewohnheiten paßt. Vielleicht werde ich mal später versuchen, daß eindeutig zu machen (obwohl im moment es mir auch nicht so eindeutig ist, warum ich so bin) was ich damit meine, aber jetzt bitte ich um ihr Akzeptanz dieser Festellung.

Also, gestern Abend war ich, wie fast immer, bei Dr. Pong. Und es hat, auch wie fast immer, viel Spaß gemacht. Ich war bis halb fünf da. Seit ne Woche, hab' ich nen Jung dort kennengelernt, den ich auch gestern getroffen hab'. Er hat mir gesagt, daß er öfters ins Berghain geht und hats mir richtig empfohlen, daß ich erforderlich dorthin gehen müß. Ich hab' versucht ihn dabei zu bringen mit mir heute Morgen hinzugehen. Er hat leider abgesagt. Ich war, deswegen, unterwegs nach Hause, als ich plötzlich die Entscheidung getroffen hab', daß ich immer so vorhersehbar bin. Ich dachte mir endlich, "Mach was anders!" So bin ich die Entscheidung getroffen heute Morgen ins Berghain zu gehen.

Und Jetzt, Meine Leser/innen: Die Berghain Erfahrung.

Erstens, die Türeingang. Es würd oft gesagt, daß vor allem der Eintritt der Türeingang völlig unregelmäßig und unvorhersehbar ist. Nachdem ich schon Berghain verlassen hab', hab' ich mit einem Jung gesprochen, der diese Festellung bestätigt hat. Also, bis zu ich andere Angaben hab', gehen ich davon aus, daß ich Glück bei der Türeingang gehabt hab'. Ich bin um fast 6:00 Morgens angekommen, und müßte, auf Einlaß, nur ne paar Minuten warten.

Als ich reingelassen würd, ist mir sofort aufgefallen, daß Berghain ein Klub aus den Neunzigern Jahren war. Seit damals, hab' ich diese Rhytmus, die Schwebungen, die mich immer an NYC Klubs wie Twilo oder Esqualita erinnert, leider nicht mehr erlebt. Diese elektronische Musik, die ich immer ganz Tief in meinem Empfindung gespürrt hab', hab ich wirklich vermißt. Ich wußte, daß Berlin und London zwei der letzen Städten waren, wo man diese Musik wirklich genießen könnte. Aber, aus komischen Grunden, hab' ich Berghain trotzdem vermieden.

Also, die Musik war eckt geil. Obwohl unter diesen geilen beats, auch wahnsinnig viele schöne Männer da waren, müß ich trotzdem sagen, daß es allerdings auch erscheinlich war, daß Berghain Musikbessessener Menschen aus aller der Welt anzieht. Der Klub ist eckt Ausländerfreundlich und alles geht um die Musik.

Schon weiter: kurz nach ich angekommen bin, hab' ich das Darkroom vorgefunden. Na klar, ich müßte rein, nicht wahr? Also, ich bin reingegangen, und hab' zuerst gespürrt wie dunkel es war. Nachdem meine Augen sich daran gewöhnt haben, jedoch, fand ich es wie ein normales Darkroom. Nach ich ein bischen herumgeschaut hab', hab ich fast den schönsten Jung des Abends gesehen. Er sah Japanish (oder Chinesich) aus. Er war ein bodybuilder Typ. Er war richtig schön tatuiert. Und er stand auf mich. Ja, daß müß ich nochmal wiederholen, da ich mich selbst fast nicht glauben könnte. Er stand auf mich.

Ok lieber Leser/innen. Kleiner Umweg. In Amerika, würd die Tatsache, daß Asiaten fast auschließlich auf weißere Männer stehen, fast genau so zuverläßig sein wie die schweizerische Uhren. Man kann wirklich davon abhängen. Bis ich in Berlin angekommen bin, wäre ich selbst drauf angekommen. Dorothy ist aber nicht mehr in Kansas. Und ich bin nicht mehr in der USA. Und die Asiaten, die Berlin besuchen (oder hier wohnen) sind, vor allem, unterschiedlich als diejenigen, die in der USA wohnen. GOTT SEI FUCKING DANK!!!

Das heißt, vor allem, daß diesen Jung richtig auf mich gestanden hat, und ich hab eine sehr schöne Zeit mit ihm gefeiert. Wir haben getanzt und geküßt und es war ein ganz hevorragende Erfahrung. Sie war zusätzlich eine Erfahrung, die ich wirklich nie erwartet hab' (ausgeschlossen davon, wenn ich überhaupt in Asien wäre). Und er war fast der schönster Jung im ganzen Klub!!! Wie komisch.

Sonst war der Abernd noch ganz schön. Nachdem ich meine Zeit mit dem Asiatischen Jung genossen hab', hab ich viel getanzt und noch andere Jungs getroffen. Die partyers waren völlig sympatischer Menschen und den Abend war richtig geil.

Also, was hab' ich aus dieser Erfahrung gelernt?

Erst, daß ich endlich begreifen müß, daß ich nicht länger in der USA bin, und das vor allem, die Regeln, die Verständise, die aus vielen Jahren enstanden haben, gelten hier lediglich nicht. Dem entsprechen, es gibt tausende Jungs aus verschieden Rassen und Nationalitäten, die auf mich stehen werden. Das soll mich nicht überraschen. Ich bin nicht länger in einem Land mit ihrer beschränkten Regeln über wen auf wem stehen darf.

Aber noch was. Eine Frage, die ich durch diesen Eintrag noch nicht getroffen habe, jedoch, ist warum. Warum ist es so in der USA? Und warum hier so unterschiedlich? Ich glaube nicht, aus grosser Naivität, daß ich persönlich so schön bin, daß alle diese Jungs auf mich, an und für mich allein, gestanden haben. Ich hab' keine schleckte Selbsteinschätzung. Ich sehe nicht so schleckt aus und kann mich gut anziehen. Ich meinte aber, lieber Leser/innen, daß es andere Betrachtungen dafür geben müßen. Dem entsprechen, die Erotisierung von Schwarz in der Berliner Schwulszene. Es gibt ne Menge Schwarzen mit dem ich dieses Thema besprochen habe, die davon wirklich beleidigt würden. Ich denk mir aber, daß solange diese Erotisierung nur sexualität entspricht, und ander Eigenschaften der schwarzen Männern nicht begegnet (wie intelligent oder ausgebildet wir sein können/dürfen) oder in Ruhe läßt, find ich sie zwar unschädlich.

Also, die war meine erste Erfahrung bei Berghain und ich versprech ihnen, daß ich ab dieses Wochenende jedes Wochenende zurück gehen werde. Es war so geil und hat meine Stereotypen und Weltansichten so herausgefordert, daß ich mich darauf freue, oftmals zurück zu gehn um diese Erfahrung zu bestätigen.

A Dream Realized

A dream realized. I have dreamed of living in Berlin for as long as I can remember. What should one do when a dream has been realized? Where to go? Has it even been realized or does it persist? If it persists, does this owe to the non-realization of the dream or to the romantic effort to retain the dream, to keep dreaming? This is the question every dreamer faces at some point upon the threshold of fulfillment. Although I say the threshold, if I’ve actually satisfied the dream, but nevertheless desire simply to continue dreaming, then threshold is perhaps the wrong word. Perhaps I should say within the foyer of the dream. Whether it’s a foyer to which I have taken deed or one that I simply rent, is the essential question. How do we know whether the dream has been satisfied? How do we identify reality? My dreams are such intimate things. Though I have spoken of this dream freely with many friends, there remains, nevertheless, an aspect to the dream that is solitary, lonely. The investment made in this dream cannot be known by those other than myself. And what I have invested in this dream? What have I hoped for from the dream that has been Germany, Berlin?

The first men that I met who I thought really understood me were Germans. First, there was Markus (one of my oldest and dearest friends). Then I met Andreas (who was dating a close friend Molly) and Frank (a friend of Andreas) a year or two later. With next to no effort, these guys just seemed to “get” me. I made sense to them. This early fecundity of German men planted the seeds that would, now years later, give rise to this inexplicable dream.

And so, here I am. In the middle of the financial crisis (Wirtschaftskrise) in Germany, trying to establish my existence, to fulfill that dream. The American dream? Our cultural heritage is to dream. We dream of houses, of cars, of picket fences, of people around the world dreaming to reach our shores. So much of the American cultural psyche involves dreaming. America, land of dreamers, somnambulant in the exercise of their hegemony over the world. Am I somnambulant? Am I dreaming still? Like Rip Van Winkel, sleeping for 20 years. What will I see when I wake? Will Germany still be there? Or just me, alone, with the knowledge that the dream was ever an illusion. And people are not so different? Perhaps there are other reasons to be abroad that have nothing to do with my dream? Does it make sense now to reach for these new rationales? Does it matter that they were not the progenitors of my German dream? I’m not sure. It seems likely that a dream fulfilled is, overwhelmingly, a sad thing. For the dream, the act of dreaming, animates us, breathes life into us. And that is a very nice thing.

Just Your Average Sunday Brunch

Idealism, Naivete, Selfishness, Ignorance

These are just some of the words that occur to me when I speak to Germans under the age of 30. It bears mentioning that these words do not just occur to me in the context of the youths themselves. I think of myself with these terms as well. In some senses, I’m awed by the sheer magnitude of these youths’…………..something. Yesterday, I had a conversation with four Germans guys under the age of 30 re the fact that most Praktikums (internships) are unpaid in Germany. One of the youths has an internship with the finance ministry. This is an unpaid 6 week program. The complaint of the young Germans is that these internships are coming to be required but they remain unpaid. Furthermore, the students’ (since most of the people doing these internships are finishing their education) costs of living are as well not covered. This means, in effect, that the students have to pay to work for these organizations (I say organizations because of the wide range of entities by which German students do these internships, from large businesses, to small, to government ministries).

My first reaction was that these positions confer a great deal of prestige on the persons selected and that, therefore, they should be willing to pay the necessary costs to complete the internship. However, they responded that this limits these positions to persons who have the financial means to do so. I felt little sympathy for this position given the amount of debt the average American university student willingly encumbers in order to achieve their diploma. Hard to feel much sympathy for the poor German students who’re staring at 1200 of debt for the experience of their internship when American students routinely rack up hundreds of thousands of dollars in order to pay their debt off. I was reminded, however, that German students do not have access to credit in the same way that American students do. namely, they cannot simply go into a bank and secure a low-interest student loan to assist in bearing these costs. There was some argument over this question and, given its significance to our entire discussion on this issue, it merits discovery.

This discussion expanded to include the financial crisis and who should bear responsibility and exactly how they should be forced to bear that responsibility. 2 of the 4 Germans argued that wealthy persons (either in America or Germany) should be forced directly to bear the burden of the financial crisis by a tax on their wealth (not sure how we would measure the damage to the economy without accounting for the losses suffered by these very people). Putting aside the technical difficulties of instituting such a plan, it’s more interesting to contemplate the sentiment behind it.

I argued that this idea of blaming the wealthy for the financial crisis woefully misinterpreted the genesis of the crisis as well as the beneficiaries. I have been in favor of the government bailouts (yes, at the taxpayers expense as they reminded me several times) precisely because I believe that an enormous sector of the American populace benefited from the boondoggle. For every wealthy investor there were a hundred persons who re-financed their homes and bought new toys or renovated their homes or something like that. For every Wall street wiz kid who irresponsibly handled his firms/clients’ money, there were hundreds of thousands of jobs on main streets around America that were preserved (perhaps artificially) by the hubris at the heart of this system.

Ultimately, however, the German youths seemed less concerned with the bailout and the financial crisis as much as really evincing an antagonism to capitalism itself. One of them suggested that employers should rotate persons through various job positions from secretary to CEO. That guy then said that he did not believe that CEOs were at all necessary and that computers could perform their jobs as well or better than the humans currently acting in that capacity. I’ll have to speak to more German youths to get a sense how wide spread this sentiment is, but, suffice it to say, it was a highly entertaining Sunday brunch conversation.

More Thoughts on the Legacy of National Socialism

So,

On Saturday, the 10th of October, I visited the Deutsches Technikmuseum (their museum of science and technology). First impression after walking to a rather dead part of the city center (it's always amazing when really central parts of cities nevertheless are devoid of the people and energy one expects in the heart of a bustling city. Sort of like being in Murray Hill in NYC, which often feels a little sleepy compared to so many other parts of Manhattan.) was that the museum seems perhaps a little dated. The placards to explain things were on somewhat dingey no-longer-white paper. The translations to english were spotty and highly irregular (meaning, sometimes there were translations and other times there were not; and this condition lacked any or all semblance of a pattern). However, once one got going through the museum, and beyond the really endless models of ships, airplanes, and more ships, it became quite interesting.

First, it's enormous. It covers several buildings (5 or 6) and one requires several days to really appreciate the various exhibits. Further focus on the exhibits, however, served to once again demonstrate something I've noted in prior blogs. Namely, the omnipresence of the period of Nazi National Socialism in Germany's history and how they must grapple with this in such a diverse array of mundane, and not so mundane, ways. This time, it arrives under the guise of describing the prowess of things like U-Boats and German fighter plane technology that were developed in the interest of serving the grandly evil schemes of the Nazis. Once again, as I believe I noted about the German History Museum, we have a very "just the facts mam" approach to the intersection, this time, of technology and National Socialism.

In the section of the museum covering the building of the first working program-controlled computer, by Konrad Zuse, there is pride in this exhibit. They have 12 replicas of the man's various prototypes. It it noted that the company he helped found did not, like its counterpart IBM in the U.S., have any government subsidization. However, with respect to the various war-time technologies (much of which, I am fairly certain, made its way to civilian uses) that pride is largely absent. In fact, there's a whole exhibit (in the portion of the museum dedicated to the evolution of rail technology) that delves into the issue of the transportation of Jews to the concentration camps. I should be careful not to overstate the quantitative significance of the period of National Socialism to this museum that contains copies of the Gutenberg press, numerous old weaving machines, and millions of other technological artifacts developed in Germany. However, viewing those areas that were greatly promulgated and supported by the National Socialists reminded one of the ways in which Germany, to this day, remains a pariah nation, if not in the world, certainly in its own collective psyche.

And that's what I find so endlessly fascinating. I contend without hesitation that the U.S. has as much to be ashamed of in its history as Germany does. Perhaps there's not a large and wealthy minority group continuing to remind the world about our national evils, but those evils, such as they are, seem visible upon the most cursory review of history. Of course, the sheer vastness of our country, somewhat attenuates the ability to experience, in a visceral sense, the negative aspects of our history. Berlin was the capital of Nazi Germany and was largely destroyed. There has been no expiation by fire of any location in the U.S. where atrocities were either committed or from which they were directed. As such, there isn't the opportunity to see evidence of our grave and bold steps away from our creed of equality, fairness, justice, etc. As a result, most Americans, especially white Americans, remain quite sanguine in their American exceptionalism. I find this results, partly, from the fact that we neither passively, nor certainly not actively, revisit America's brutal past. There are not reminders all around the South of locations where African Americans were routinely lynched. There are not reminders, all around the country of locations where Native Americans were massacred or starved.

Like glaciers rolling over mountains, the authority of history's victors to roll over the bumps within their illusory mask of cultural and historical superiority knows no limit. It is Manifest Destiny writ large in an existential and historical context. On the one hand, I pity that Germans cannot share, given the blight that Nazism continues to exert on their national psyche and their global reputation, in the almost universal tendency of people to experience national pride. On the other hand, however, America could use a large dose of humility that might come from having routinely to face its dirty laundry as we say. Indeed, this paucity of historical context has made America a far more dangerous country than it needed to be and, furthermore, will, I believe, ultimately contribute to an expedited exit from the position of the lone global superpower. But more on that later.

Three Weeks or An Eternity

HELLO MY DEAR READERS!!!!!

It's been three weeks tomorrow since my computer was ripped from my cold dead hands and kidnapped by evil German computer geeks. Although it was their ostensible goal to fix it, this would be difficult to ascertain from the length of time they possessed my machine. Worse yet, after being in possession of my computer for about 17 days, they tried to tell me that they'd found liquid in the machine (sounds like the name of some serial sci-fi animated feature, no). I was just a little irate and anyone who knows how manic I am about my computer would understand immediately why. I don't spill things on my computer. Of course, I did open a coke bottle once near it and some fizz (not liquid, just the gassy fizz) might've gotten in the computer. In any event, the issue that presaged the death of my computer occurred prior to my arrival in Germany. The fan started making wild noises way before I got here and, shortly before the poor thing expired, the fan was going nuts, making the loudest death screech I'd never imagined a laptop could make. Anywho, it has a new mainboard now and I'm officially back in business. I'll have to try to synthesize my experiences, thoughts, over the past three weeks within the next few days so everyone can catch up to where I am. Ciao, till then. Time to do a back-up now.

GEE