Voices: Leaving cool Britannia for even cooler Berlin
BERLIN — Poor but sexy.
That's how then-mayor Klaus Wowereit described Germany's capital city more than a decade ago.
He was attempting to lure investors, entrepreneurs and creative types with mercantile instincts to a place that, 14 years after Germany became a reunited nation, still suffered from a drab-image problem.
My family — my keep-calm-and-carry-on English wife, three zany kids (5, 8 and 11), plus an eccentric hound with Austro-Hungarian roots — moved here from Britain a little over a week ago.
For us, it's too early to say where we fit in here, and whether there's any real blood left in Wowereit's adage, although it's still ringing in our ears a bit as we figure out how to do the recycling, buy the dog train tickets and observe quiet (as in "Shut up, kids") "Sunday rest" days.
Berlin's storied graffiti — street art completely covered West Berlin's side of the wall whereas the East's side was completely blank — is still here, but without the galvanizing political context in which it once marinated. We have no idea what it means, but my sons and I are particularly taken with an artist who liberally tags the phrase "crab salad" around our neighborhood.
Central Berlin, where we have mostly been confined so far, certainly doesn't feel particularly poor. The handsomely diverse architecture and building projects, well-heeled visitors and seemingly endless boutiques selling rarefied German goods seem to refute that idea. With so much green space around, everyone, and everything, appears a little wealthier.
Though there does seem to be a problem with broken glass bottles, and not just in the parks. They litter the sidewalks, too. Perhaps that's an observation from a dog owner walking his dog at 6 a.m. when everyone else is just leaving the party. Berlin, in the summer at least, is a party town.
As for sexy, as we all know, that is often in the eye of the beholder.
These days, Berlin, as the capital of Chancellor Angela Merkel's Germany, is the central seat of Europe's economic and political power base. The banks may be in Frankfurt and Munich, but Germany itself is wealthy. Ask the Greeks.
Yet Berliners, from parliamentarians to diplomats to the amiable guy who installed the broadband at our apartment recently, keep telling us that this city isn't part of the "real" Germany, anyway.
That, they say, is due to the large influx of European foreign nationals in recent years, sometimes adding that it's actually a better place to practice your Spanish than your German.
They see a cultural parallel to New York City's relationship to the rest of the United States. Sure it's America. But, seriously now, is it really?
They also say that many Berliners are not overly pleased about what this stampede is doing to the city's identity, affordability and ambiance. In some areas, English appears to be the first language.
As is often the way, none of the people saying this appears to be originally from Berlin.
In 2001, Jack Lang, the onetime French minister of culture, characterized the rate of change taking place here by noting that "Paris is always Paris and Berlin is never Berlin."
That has a fuzzy logic to it, but it makes sense on some level, not least because Berlin's unique 20th-century history has not permitted it the same immutability of other European metropolises.
Madrid is surely always Madrid and London always London. Not the case with Berlin.
While we are on the topic of London, let me add that overworked Londoners are said to be ditching Cool Britannia in droves for the dream of even Cooler (and more laid back and cheaper) Berlin.
In a certain light that might apply to us, although, like sexy, there's no unanimity on what's cool.
Also, we moved from Brighton, not London. Another always place. Sexy. A little on the poor side.
Hjelmgaard is Paste BN's Berlin-based correspondent.