Architecture in Germany is historically significant for its lack of consistency. You can have buildings ranging in age from 300 years old to last year on the same block. This patchwork effect is the visible scarring from centuries of war and division. Germans feel no need to maintain their reputation for a fairytale aesthetic; you often see 18th century buildings with neighbors or additions done in a completely modern style.
Elliott and I stopped by Alter St.-Matthäus-Kirchhof to see the graves of the Grimm Brothers. This is about 30 minutes away by train, a completely random and out of the way corner of Berlin near the Steglitz borough. As we are walking through the cemetery taking photos, I see someone slowly coming towards us in the distance that triggers a familiar response in me. We continue to walk up the path, stopping to photograph or read the headstones, and the person on the path does the same. After about 20 minutes of this, we get lose enough that I see who it is. Out of 3 million people in Berlin, our friend from Bellingham, Ben Kohn, is standing in front of me. Seriously, I can’t tell you how astronomical the odds of that are, that we happened to be at the same cemetery, at the same time, let alone that we happened to be walking up the same path he was coming down. We decide such implausible synchronicity deserved a beer.
Elliott alerted me to a sign he saw advertising a fairy tale festival at a museum that is a recreation of a medieval German village. We decided to attend, and while it was very lovely and fun, it was raining quite hard and the actually storytelling was forced into tiny tents. Rather than elbow children out of the way for my own selfish interests, I opted to wander the grounds and try to talk to the staff. Language proved to be a challenge, because contrary to popular belief not everyone in Germany speaks English, especially older people who grew up in the East before the reunification. However, I did manage to learn a bit about “Schlüsselblumen”, or “key flowers”, which is the flower we call Cowslips. She explained that it was part of the folklore of fairies, elves, and woodland spirits, although I am not certain how. It is also known as the more Christianized “Himmelsschlüsselblumen”, or “Keys of Heaven Flowers”. It was a lovely, if not rainy, afternoon.