Everything You Never Knew You Wanted to Know About Kreuzberg
Like by now probably 99.999% of all the people in Berlin Kreuzberg the author of this blog is a “newcomer”. She wasn´t there when the Turkish Gastarbeiter arrived, she wasn´t there when the punks took over and she was even less there when the Wall came down and the first “Ossies” dared over the Oberbaumbrücke (actually, she was very much on the Eastern side then herself and far, far from Berlin, thank you). But in those years when she WAS there, she has seen enough to convince her that Kreuzberg is in fact like cigarettes: you know it´s bad for you, but you can´t stop.
Kreuzberg is loud, dirty and a pain in the ass – never been to Wrangelkiez or Bergmannstrasse on Friday night/Saturday evening? then you know nothing about wanting to strangulate strangers or sprinkle salt into their open wounds.
But it also happens to be addictive: after wading up to your knees in dog turds in spring, after navigating your two-ton-heavy pram among hundreds of pedestrians who seem to have shed their intelligence like snakes do skin somewhere over Ohio, Madrid or Turin and after being woken up at 3 AM by yet another bloody doorbell-happy and pissed like a newt Brit in the “Ferienwohnung” downstairs, you are still – miraculously – loath to leave.
There is no explanation for it. It is the twilight zone of human understanding. Kreuzberg does it to you. It did it to the author of this blog. Should she one day finally pack up her extensive family and leave, she will first dance for joy and then mourn forever. She has, as you can guess, been Kreuzberg´d.
NotMsParker can be found either meandering the streets of Kreuzberg armed with a camera and enough enthusiasm to keep a Zeppelin afloat or she can be contacted via the following contact form (a direct email address, she is told, is a fishy thing to use as the spammers of the world are always lurking):
The choice is, of course, yours:-)
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