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	<title>hindabess &#8211; Jewcy</title>
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		<title>The Berlin Diaries: All That Glitters Is Schmuck</title>
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		<dc:creator><![CDATA[hindabess]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Wed, 10 Oct 2007 04:15:01 +0000</pubDate>
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					<description><![CDATA[<p>After one month of wandering around a foreign city without any grasp of its language, I decided to take matters into my own hands. I’m sure you’ve noticed, too, that overhearing a conversation in a strange tongue, and in some distant metropolis, can induce a linguistic panic. All of a sudden everyone else is in&#8230;</p>
<p>The post <a rel="nofollow" href="https://jewcy.com/post/berlin_diaries_all_glitters_schmuck">The Berlin Diaries: All That Glitters Is Schmuck</a> appeared first on <a rel="nofollow" href="https://jewcy.com">Jewcy</a>.</p>
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										<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p> After one month of wandering around a foreign city without any grasp of its language, I decided to take matters into my own hands. I’m sure you’ve noticed, too, that overhearing a conversation in a strange tongue, and in some distant metropolis, can induce a linguistic panic. All of a sudden everyone else is in on this joke and I’m relegated to my own bubble.    I get my revenge by laughing at the abundance of funny words that make a regular appearance on storefronts or displays: Berlin is full of fahrt (journey), uhren (clocks) and schmuck (jewelry). Sadly, the game where I play “How many schmucks can I spot on a block?” makes me feel infantile after the fifth round.     So, in an effort to reverse all fears that I’m a stupid American, I made up another game where I take note of what people say in English as I pass by them in the environs of Berlin. In other words, what do people talk about when they’re on the subway, in a coffee shop or taking a leisurely stroll? I assure you, it’s not Goethe, but when people talk in German it might as well be.    Items overheard:    “ … but you have to bring it into the classroom,” said a hippy-dippy woman, age 50ish, talking to a male companion in Berlin’s rebuilt downtown district.    “Mom, where are you,” asked a teenager in Zara by the retail district.    “ … a bagel in the grocery store,” said a teenager at the busy Zoo train station    “Are we there,” one uncertain British tourist asked another on the subway.    “Not all Germans are right-wing bastards,” retorted a 20ish cad, with a British accent, to his group of friends in the hippest part of the former East Berlin.    “You were allover them: ‘Hey lady, can I buy you a drink,’” mocked an American 20-something to his inebriated friend on the subway.    English is, without a doubt, the language of poetry.  </p>
<p>The post <a rel="nofollow" href="https://jewcy.com/post/berlin_diaries_all_glitters_schmuck">The Berlin Diaries: All That Glitters Is Schmuck</a> appeared first on <a rel="nofollow" href="https://jewcy.com">Jewcy</a>.</p>
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		<title>The Berlin Diaries: Sex Sex Sex</title>
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		<dc:creator><![CDATA[hindabess]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Thu, 27 Sep 2007 03:47:25 +0000</pubDate>
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		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://beta.jewcy.com/?p=19608</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[<p>“You’re packing that?”   It wasn’t heat, but it might as well have been for the look my mother gave me. I looked down at the Brandeis hoodie I was holding. Mother didn’t think a sweatshirt with the name of America’s Jewish-sponsored school emblazoned on it would go over well in Germany. “Oh please,” I&#8230;</p>
<p>The post <a rel="nofollow" href="https://jewcy.com/post/The-Berlin-Diaries-Sex-Sex-Sex-8847">The Berlin Diaries: Sex Sex Sex</a> appeared first on <a rel="nofollow" href="https://jewcy.com">Jewcy</a>.</p>
]]></description>
										<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>“You’re packing that?”     It wasn’t heat, but it might as well have been for the look my mother gave me. I looked down at the Brandeis hoodie I was holding. Mother didn’t think a sweatshirt with the name of America’s Jewish-sponsored school emblazoned on it would go over well in Germany. “Oh please,” I responded. “They’ll have no idea what Brandeis is over there.”     It turns out that I was the one as dumb as bricks when it comes to appropriate street apparel in my residential neighborhood in Berlin. Did I say residential? I meant to say street walking.     At the intersection of Potsdamerstrasse and Kufurstenstrasse – across the street from the Turkish grocer and right next door to the bakery – is the neighborhood sex shop. It goes by the name “LSD” – not the drug, silly, but an acronym for the trifecta of “Love, Sex, Dreams.” This is not just any purveyor of sex toys. A billboard rivaling the size of any in Times Square features a blonde in a white thong lying on her side. It’s so glaring and enormous that I feel embarrassed whenever I stand next to old German ladies as we wait for the light to change. Clearly, they could care less. At any given point in the day, but at night for sure, women decked out in above-the-knee stiletto boots motion to passing cars. They work the busy intersection but I see them more often eating pastries in the next-door bakery than sliding into strangers’ cars. Yes, prostitution is legal here.     In America I’m considered pretty much a prude. So in Germany I might as well be a nun. Oh wait, here comes one right now. As I emerge from the U-bahn station I find myself colliding with a crowd of prostitutes and a nun who is trying to go about her business. Oh, and here comes the token transvestite wearing sequined jeans, a brunette wig and too much blush.     I wasn’t wearing my Brandeis sweatshirt but I can assure you – or my mother, rather – that nary a soul would or could care less what I’m wearing. There’s much more interesting things to gape at on the street. Welcome to Berlin.    </p>
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		<title>The Berlin Diaries: Judaism Thrives in Germany</title>
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		<dc:creator><![CDATA[hindabess]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Sat, 22 Sep 2007 09:35:53 +0000</pubDate>
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					<description><![CDATA[<p>[This post by Hinda Mandell is the first in a series of dispatches from Berlin, where she&#39;s making good on an international journalism fellowship.] Ah, to be a Jew in Germany during the High Holidays. It’s filled with so much guilt, symbolism and sausage. My poor mamele. There is a transfixing quality to Berlin. What&#8230;</p>
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]]></description>
										<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p><b><i>[This post by Hinda Mandell is the first in a series of dispatches from Berlin, where she&#39;s making good on an international journalism fellowship.] </i></b></p>
<p>Ah, to be a Jew in Germany during the High Holidays. It’s filled with so much guilt, symbolism and sausage. My poor mamele.</p>
<p>There is a transfixing quality to Berlin. What is destroyed emerges again – a generalization that can be applied to the living and lived in: people, buildings, and yes, even botany. As I learned on a walking tour today (God bless America and walking tours), the famous boulevard Unter den Linden suffered an aesthetic blow when Hitler ordered the removal of lime trees for which the street is named, to be replaced with a more Fascist look: flagpoles bearing Third Reich swastikas. While the lime trees were subsequently replanted after 12 years of National Socialism, right now they’re still pretty puny looking. And there’s more: The behemoth building that was built to house the Nazi air force known as the Luftwaffe was taken over by Soviets in East Berlin. They transformed it into a government agency espousing propaganda on the opposite end of the ideology spectrum. Today, the building is used by the German government’s Finance Ministry. Talk about recycling.  This takes me back to the High Holidays. A religion that once thrived in Germany, then targeted for annihilation, is now vibrant once more. I geared up for erev Rosh Hashanah by – what else? – checking out the Ritz Carlton at Potsdamer Platz. The now tired chain can be proud of its Berlin manifestation. But exploring the swanky interior soon made me thirsty, and without any water fountains in sight (too low-brow? Too American?) I approached a Ritz Carlton staffer. I said I was parched and he disappeared and then returned with a glass of sparkling water – on a silver platter. They treat Jews well here, I thought.  The Chabad-led service was the real highlight. I might as well have been at an Orthodox outfit back home for all of the crying babies and pre-pubescents who ran through the makeshift shul at the downtown Marriot. Those in attendance comprised a motley Jew-crew of Diaspora tribesmen. Upwards of 85% of the Jewish community in Germany are former Soviet Union Jews whose relation to Judaism was marked by the “J” on their passport and little else. They came to the land of the perpetrators following the collapse of the Soviet Union, because America didn’t want them and they didn’t want Israel. And now – thanks to that “J” and Germany’s interest to nurture a small Jewish community – the FSU Jews are living here as privileged refugees. This means that in addition to government handouts of about 400 euros each month, they also receive government-subsidized housing. This also means that these FSU Jews suffer in reputation. A German-born Jew who works for a government ministry here told me that Russian Jews come to the synagogue only for the free grub.   That wasn’t the case at the Marriot – the only hotel in Berlin with a kosher kitchen, I was told – where I paid heftily. Forty euros (about $65) got me 25 minutes of prayer time, a lamb dinner and a severed fish head in front of my plate. My tablemate, a Brazilian Jew who is an advertising copywriter, was disturbed by something else. “It’s weird hearing a rabbi give a speech [in a language] that Hitler once spoke in,” he said.   That rabbi is none other than Brooklynite Yehuda Teichtel, who recently made headlines when his $6.8 million Jewish community center opened to much fanfare last month. It was reported to be the first such center since the Holocaust. It even boasts a replica of the Wailing Wall made with imported Jerusalem stone. A bit much? For Rabbi Teichtel nothing is too much for reinvigorating Jewish life in Berlin. The rabbi tells our table of American expats, transients and new residents: “That 350 Jews are celebrating Rosh Hashanah just miles away from Hitler’s bunker is amazing.” The bunker, now a gravel-covered parking lot, is around the corner from both the Reichstag parliament and the Memorial for the Murdered Jews of Europe. Yeah, talk about symbolism.</p>
<p>The post <a rel="nofollow" href="https://jewcy.com/post/the_berlin_diaries_judaism_thrives_in_germany">The Berlin Diaries: Judaism Thrives in Germany</a> appeared first on <a rel="nofollow" href="https://jewcy.com">Jewcy</a>.</p>
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