Hello, again. If you’re reading this, I’m in Berlin. An unseen city that has enamored me.

Why did I come here? Well, that’s a bit of a story.

Since I was little, I have read historical fiction, mainly about WWII and the Holocaust. If I had to guess where this interest began, I would say that it all started with the Bosnian War. There wasn’t much historical fiction about the Bosnian War, so WWII and the Holocaust filled that interest for me. In addition, I remember my 5th-grade teacher, Mrs. Carpenter reading us Number the Stars by Lois Lowry. It stuck with me, and I began to read more and more historical fiction. My interest in historical fiction, particularly WWII and the Holocaust, led me to read a lot about Berlin. It’s a somewhat similar story to how I ended up in Moscow. However, does that explain it? 

Something is fascinating about WWII and the Cold War. I’m not sure what word to use, but it seems simple will be the best word I can come up with. However, maybe it was the lack of simplicity that made it simple. Access to information was limited, and the desire to consume it was lower. I can only imagine the red tape nightmare it would have been to travel to Berlin back in the 1980s, but I find pleasure in the details and persevering through the bureaucracy. Going the “whole nine yards” has worked for me thus far. Anyway, I would have done anything to get myself to Berlin before the Fall of the Berlin Wall. That life of Berlin is long gone, and it’s a life I wish I could have seen and truly understood. 

I have no real expectations for Berlin. Nevertheless, I hope that I will be able to fill somewhat the same void I had before I had been to Moscow. I know I will never be able to experience what life was like behind the Iron Curtain, but it’s an experience I wish I could have had. Three years in Russia did fill that void. The buildings and people forged in that era remain. The bureaucracy and ways of things are steeping with Soviet-ness. Everything from the brutalist architecture coupled with the Khruchovkas to the piles of paperwork littered with stamps and signatures was society's underbelly. I find it oddly fascinating. It’s not the pretty pictures you can take in Gorky Park, nor is it the new profile photo you took at Red Square the first time you visited. For me, it was the actual life that people lived, the life of that city and country.

I’m not exactly sure where that thought was going. Furthermore, I don’t mean to drone on and on about Moscow and Russia, but I’m still processing that the place I called home for three years has been taken away for lack of better wording.

Anyway, it’s time to land, and I’ve got a city to explore. Before I go, I’ll leave you with this weird thought I cannot explain.

While the Cold War and WWII were dark times in history, the variables were understood and known. Both East and West knew what each other was doing. Today, I’m not sure we can say the same. Moreover, it seems there are too many people with too much information. We constantly find ourselves concerned for the world, but life goes on (for most of us, at least). I won’t be posing a question, but I’d love to hear your thoughts about my rambling. Check out that new comment section I’ve added somewhere (probably below).

Catch ya on the flip side, Aidan