Ich Bin Ein Berliner (Ein Apfelberliner)

A Berliner is someone from Berlin. It is also a jelly doughnut. An Apfelberliner is delicious. United States President John F. Kennedy came to West Berlin in 1963 and proclaimed that he was a Berliner. I hope he was a Apfelberliner.

So all that mumb-jumbo about not liking cities was wrong. I just like certain cities, and Berlin is one of them. Over the course of a week I fell madly in love with the city, much to the dismay of Annie, though she said she would be willing to join me in my pursuits of the city.

Something I read called Berlin a city which ''Disproportionately shaped the history of the world,'' which is something I would have to agree with, and something that makes it so cool. It was ground zero for seventy years of twentieth century tension, has been more than destroyed and rebuilt, and is everything that Germany is bottled up into a walkable city.

We were in Berlin for eight nights, and I'm sure that wasn't enough. We did a whole lot, and I'm going to recount some of my favorite adventures.

Berlin Day One
So there's this wonderful program in some European cities where they give free walking tours, and the guides work on a tip basis (which is totally a future job pursuit, by the way), so we spent day one getting a crash-course in Berlin. It was a great mix of Third Reich and Cold War history, Prussian stories, displays of modern architecture, basically everything that makes Berlin so cool, which ended with our guide (who was really awesome) recounting how the wall fell. By the end of the day I was already in love with the city.

Red Berlin
Being the history nerd I am, I couldn't pass up the opportunity to take a tour about the historical cold war sites in Berlin, including the wall, government buildings, secret underground tunnels and bunkers, random streets where meetings and uprisings occured, and all sorts of other, really nifty things. Annie and the Polish women sat out this one and I had to go it alone, which was fine by me, as I kind of wanted a chance to explore the city and get to know her myself.

My tour guide had just graduated from Indinana University, having studied ''Radiacal political change,'' which I dont think is a major offered at UNC, though I could be wrong. He was well-versed in spy stories, anecdotes about torture, struggling workers, and daily life in the country with the most domestic spying of any country ever.

At the end of the tour I ran off to a bookshop and picked up a book about the country's history since 1920.

Reichstag
That night, we waited in a ridiculously long line to get to the top of the Reichstag, the German parliament building. While I wanted to go up, I didn't think it would be anything too spectacular. I was wrong. Going up to the roof of the building, with its futuristic, space-station-looking dome, was one of the highlights of my trip. The dome was designed so that German politicians, if ever in doubt, could look up from the chambers and see what their jobs were about, namely, the people. Being on the roof of the old building, which contrasted greatly, yet somehow worked with the dome, afforded incredible views of the city at night. As we were in the last group to go to the top, the crowed thinned out and we got to spend some time relatively alone with the city. In the dome is the history of the Reichstag, which eerily mirrors the history of the German people. One ironic note of history: while the fire in the Reichstag was a dramatic incident that helped Hitler and the Nazi party seize power, it never housed his regime.

Confronting History
Steps from the Brandenburg Gate, the symbol of everything Berlin, lies the Memorial to the Dead Jews of Europe, a massive expansive of more than 2,000 idential cement blocks that create an organized jungle that, at its highest point, stretches taller than two of me.

If I could have done this international project again, I would love to come look at the different ways the Holocaust is remembered in Europe. Being in the Berlin memorial was as emotional experince in a different way from being at Auschwitz-Birkenau. I think its such a hard thing for a country to confront, but I honestly believe that Germany is doing it in extraordinary fashion, and Germans I have spoken to will be the first to recognize and confront the tragedies of the past. To them, its not something to bury, its something to learn from and prevent from ever happening again.

I don't hate the Germans. That was a rant by a disaffected Holland fan who had a bad day. I find Germany, and the Germans, fascinating, and if if Annie wasn't spurring me on, I might have just stayed, adopted a white jersey with the red, yellow, and black eagle, called up my brother to learn a few German phrases, and continued to delve into the city.

So, needless to say, I like Berlin. I was sad leaving it. But don't worry, I'm formulating schemes for getting back to the city, like, for instance, graduate studies. When I start referring to my ''Fullbright plan'' when I get home, this is what I'm talking to. On top of all that, it's one of the cheapest cities to live in, and people talked of apparements that went for €150 a month.

On that note, since I've been here in Europe, working on my project, I've had my eyes opened to all sorts of other things I want to study, not least of which is the perpetual idea of majoring in History, which I'm pretty sure would send my parents into a conniption after my brother pursued the same discipline. I have all these things I want to look into that I just don't have the time to, or the funds. I wish I had the opportunity I've had this summer every summer, which makes me think I should be an academic.