L O C A L E N G L I S H M A G A Z I N E

In chat with Waael, a refugee from Syria By Lily Cichanowicz Page 11

Misguided Applause for Ms. Merkel By Ilyas Saliba Page 08

WE ARRIVED & THEY PUT US IN PRISONTHE REFUGEE CHANCELLOR

REFUGEES WELCOME: AN ALTERNATIVE TO MASS HOUSING

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Refugees in Germany

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REFUGEES: COLD WEATHER, HEATED DEBATE?

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Vol: 01 Issue: 06 | Berlinlogs.com | November 2015Cover by SpaceShoe ( flickr.com/spaceshoe )

Berlin Logs

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Managing Editor: Sarah Coughlan

Editors: Eileen Carelock Lily Cichanowicz

Art Editor:Sasha Prince

Office Manager: Anna Geary-Meyer

Founder: Daniyal Waseem

While there is plenty good about running Berlin Logs as a monthly print magazine, there are a few drawbacks. The most obvious, of course, is that we are less responsive to newsworthy events than magazines that go to print more often. It is for this reason that so far we have paid scant attention to the very thing that has had the most media-ink spilled over it: the refugee crisis. Hence, we have given over our November edition to explore the situation in Berlin in detail. Of course, among this you’ll find the topics our readers expect from Berlin Logs, so enjoy a generous helping of arts and culture as well as the insider’s line to both pizza and yoga in Berlin.

This month’s magazine features interviews with leading politicians, conversations with those at the front of the civil society charge to do right by the newcomers to our city, and perhaps most important of all, an interview with someone that is living the crisis, a stone’s throw from the city’s borders. In bringing together these articles, it has become clear that the situation in Berlin is a complex one - far beyond simply an issue of cultivating donations and finding accommodation for those fleeing from war torn countries far away, and that while there are more than a handful of people determined to spread fear and misinformation, for the most part, the city is pulling together.

Refugees are welcome here.

CONTENTS

Drinking, Dancing, and Donating at About Blank

Helplinge x Betahaus: The Startup Scene Gives Back

Welcoming Refugees, One Picnic at a Time

Movember: Men With Moustaches Do it Better

Food: The Berlin Logs Guide to All Things Pizza

No German? Berlin’s Best Yoga Offerings Auf English

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A WordTeam

NOVEMBERWhat’s New: Global Climate March, Short Films, Jazz & More

The Refugee Chancellor: Misguided Applause for Merkel

In Conversation with Waael, a Refugee from Syria

Impressions: Behind the Stage at Deutsche Oper Berlin

A Different Kind of Night Out: Berlin, Get Ya Head-Nod On

Left of Center: In Conversation with Klaus Lederer

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Berlin Logs. Habsburger Str 10, 10781. Berlin+ 49 (0)30 982 942 02info@berlinlogs.com www.berlinlogs.com

The Berlin Logs Team

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It is easy to feel overwhelmed by the refugee situation, to feel ignorant or uninformed. Most days it feels like the lay of the land has shifted dramatically once again and it is hard to keep up. To combat this, and to give a sense of the gravity of the situation at hand, and what’s more, as way of introduction to our special refugee crisis edition of Berlin Logs, we’ve got a sketch of how we got to where we are today - and hint at the challenges to come.

The Crisis’ Background-In the summer of 2015, Europe experienced its highest influx of refugees since the Second World War;

-This was mostly due to the outbreak of the Syrian civil war in 2011, sparked in the context of the Arab Spring, which has meant the country is now the world’s biggest source of refugees, many of whom are fleeing to Europe;

-95% of those displaced from Syria by the Syrian civil war and by the success of ISIS (the Islamic State) have sought refuge in neighbouring countries like Jordon and Turkey.

The Crisis in Germany -In response to growing pressure on the EU, Merkel announced on 24th August 2015 that Germany would accept all Syrian refugees asylum-seekers here without exception;

-On 13th September following pressure from the CSU (the Bavarian section of the CDU), border controls were re-introduced in Southern Europe as the Schengen treatise was temporarily suspended;

-At the time of this publication it is estimated that the German capital receives 1,000 displaced people from around the world every day;

-Germany currently has a backlog of 250,000 unprocessed asylum applications, with an approximate waiting time for each application being approximately five months. Refugees are unable to work while their applications are being processed;

-It is estimated that Germany will receive between 800,000 and 1 million asylum applications by the end of 2015, with some reports suggesting that up to 1.5 million people is a real possibility. The German state is unable to cope with the influx of people and has found it has had to rely on the support of civil society to meet the needs of newcomers.

In Berlin-Under the Königstein formula, which weighs population and relative wealth for German states to determine how many refugees each state should house, Berlin is obligated to take 5% of newcomers;

-There has been a spate of violence and arson attack against refugee accommodation in the city, including in Berlin’s Nauen, the day after Merkel announced her plans to open the borders;

An Overview: The Refugee Crisis

-Following the dismantling of camps last year (most notably in Oranienplatz), there is a real shortage of suitable accommodation for newcomers. This has meant that the Olympiastadion has been overtaken with makeshift beds for refugees and there is talk of transforming Prenzlauerberg’s Velodrom as well;

-There is no doubt that state apparatus is struggling under the surge in people seeking safety in Germany. As such, hundreds of thousands of people have pitched in, offering their time and donations to help people transition.

What You Can Do-If you are interested in getting involved with helping newcomers to the city, the best place to start is on social media. You can find local groups on Facebook and contact them about ways to get involved. Very often, German-language ability is not needed to volunteer as many refugees coming to Berlin speak better English than they do German;

-If you want to make donations to groups supporting refugees, be sure to consult the groups’ social media pages beforehand, as they publish lists of things that are needed and list the things they have enough of;

-For those with language skills, most groups are in desperate need for speakers of English or German speakers with Pashtuh, Farsi or Arabic skills.

Berlin Logs4

SCHULSTREIK GEGEN RASSIMUSBy now a well established Berlin phenomenon, the city’s leftist school students are striking (that is, not going to school) in an organised demonstration against racism. Following hot on the heels of the well-attended TTIP demonstration last month, Schulstreik will march against racism in November. The strike is borne from growing fears about racist behaviours and attitudes in the state apparatus and among its citizenry (they cite the recent arson attacks against refugee accommodation particularly). Join them!

19.11.2015 from 11:00am at Potsdamerplatz

31ST ANNUAL INTERNATIONAL SHORT FILM FESTIVAL

BERLIN 2015After the Berlinale, the Short Film Festival is perhaps Berlin’s most important annual film event. Each year the judges shortlist film from over 6,000 entries (all under 30 minutes long) to showcase over the six day event. The shortlist is made up of around 500 total entries (with categories such as international, German, documentary, and viral video). The event is truly international and draws entries from all over the world; aside from traditional entries, there are also music videos, retrospectives and experimental films thrown into the mix.

10-15.11.2015 - Films are screened at Volksbühne, Roter Salon, Grüner Salon, Babylon Kino, Passage Kinos (Neukölln), Central Kino, and Planetarium am Insulaner. Tickets 5-50€

JAZZFEST BERLINThe final encore in Berlin’s jazz calendar, Jazzfest promises to bring together some of the city’s finest for one last hurrah in November. The Jazzfest has some serious pedigree, with a tradition stretching back for 50 years, but this shouldn’t be taken as a sign that the programme is conservative. In fact, the festival prides itself in welcoming traditionalists and progressives alike. This four day bonanza is the most prestigious event on the Berlin jazz scene and will feature across a number of venues around the city.

5-8.11.2015 - Various venues across the city including Haus der Berliner Festspiele, the Berlin Jazz Institute, and A-Trane - See website for more details.

WHAT’S NEW

THE PERVERT’S GUIDE TO EUROPE: JÜRGEN KUTTNER

MEETS SLAVOJ ZIZEK As part of the Volksbühne’s series on Europe, radio personality, culture vulture and social commentator Jürgen Kuttner meets Slovenian philosopher, cultural critic and prolific beard grower Slavoj Zizek to discuss Europe and its future. The pair will discuss the conceptual problems with borders specifically in the context of the refugee crisis, the moral implications of balancing the refugee crisis on the back of German civil society and the age of unparalleled surveillance monitoring.

21.11.2015 - Volkbühne Berlin - Tickets between 8-12€ - Space is limited.

GLOBAL CLIMATE CHANGE MARCH

Even if your interest in a climatically stable future only stems from the desire for security for Mittens your pet cat, the case for protecting the environment has been proved conclusively. Sadly, it appears to be entirely beyond the reach of state actors and NGOs ostensibly in place to fight for this. As such, Berliners are taking to the streets to demonstrate their displeasure at the glacial pace of change in policy practices. The march begins at Potsdamerplatz and has been organised in association with WWF, Oxfam, NABU, Klima-Allianz, Greenpeace, Campact und Avaaz.

29.11.2015 - Potsdamerplatz - 11:00am

By Alix Berber

The Tattletale Heart

HOW TO MARRY A MILLIONAIRE

M en are all the same, just pick the richest one’ seems like a solid framework for the jaded urbanite interested in dating men. I’m not classist, I went out with starving artists left

and right, but sometimes a girl needs more than hard dick/clit and Späti beer. I have toyed with the idea of dating someone with a thick bank account and a thin thread of life after an ex-partner suggested that ‘the lifestyle would suit me.’ And of course I’d love to be the ‘personal assistant’ and bed warmer for Gloria Swanson’s Norma Desmond, but my chances of ending up with some Berlin (read: far less wealthy) version of J. Howard Marshall are much better.

On a good day I serve that old Hollywood glamour of helmet hair, sleek dress and coordinated movements. On a bad day, I look like Michel Houellebecq after 12 hours at Berghain (just sans the Islamophobic stuff and with more hair). I’m a woman of many talents but none of them pays well enough to never worry about money. Berlin is poor and sexy, and so am I. In a city where freelancing is nothing but an elaborate synonym for unemployment, it seems an affluent partner is hard to come by. Left with my last two career choices (village witch or areola model) I decide to give this unfamiliar idea a personal approach; I have always dated for character, so now why not try something more rewarding and profitable? After all, this is a city where men often seem to cultivate beards rather than characters.

‘The Missile’ and I had gone out over the course of a summer, until once upon a hazy blue morning in his kitchen, he told me over expensive cognac and cigars that he was falling in love with me. A claim I felt he was trying to prove by performing a sexual act on me that can be described as the sensory equivalent of a carp dying in my

crotch. I abandoned any idea of keeping him around that very moment. Conflicted about contacting him just for the sake of this experiment, the stars aligned and he got back in touch after I had vanished from his bedroom one morning and had ignored his texts for a year.

I have murky memories of the night that followed. Lavish seafood dinner, chased by champagne led to swanky cocktails at the most pretentious speakeasy bar in Mitte where things turned to business. As the night progressed, ‘The Missile’ had assured me that he still thought of me as ‘the ultimate souvenir’ and since he was ‘looking for someone to settle down with’ he was very pleased that I made time to see him. He also told me that I was ‘under no obligation’ to sleep with him as we had just reconnected.

Through a thick fog of several Berlin style cocktails (six hipster liquors combined to taste like nail varnish remover) it hit me: What is love but business? It is, after all, traditional. What happened to the good old time habit of marrying for money or for a fancy title someone you met once or twice if at all? Making stiff conversation till one of you died in either war or childbirth? I know this practice would have saved ‘The Missile’ a lot of time and money.

I might not be the most romantic person, but I went home on my own that night. I decided to drunk dial my best friend who later told me that I had cried and refused to acknowledge it by calling tears ‘sad water’. The next morning, waking up, I understood that old adage money spoils character. After recovering from the human/booze-related hangover, I called the flavour of the month, a painter. And dear reader, sometimes a good shag in an unheated studio, a bottle of red and cheap pizza is all a girl really needs.

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6 Berlin Logs

By Ilyas Saliba

MISGUIDED APPLAUSE FOR MS. MERKEL

I am surprised, even puzzled, by how the European and international media and political

elites are celebrating German chancellor Angela Merkel for her ‘humanitarian turn’ in the refugee crisis. The change in migration and asylum policy in Germany isn’t half as progressive or humanitarian as commentators and enthusiasts are painting it. In fact, it is a selective opening driven not least by economic considerations and a demographic pressure for immigration. It is driven by economic necessity at least as much as it is motivated by the deteriorating situation in the periphery of the European fortress in Greece, Italy and Hungary that until a few weeks ago didn’t really interest anyone in Berlin’s government circles too much, because legally (according

to the Dublin Accord) the mounting refugee crisis was ‘their problem’. The German agency actually sent back a large portion of the refugees seeking asylum in Germany to those states on the European periphery, in full knowledge that those countries were surcharged and thus largely unable to provide adequate housing or due and timely process of their asylum applications.

According to ProAsyl, an independent human rights group promoting the rights of refugees in Germany, about 20% of the asylum applications in Germany in 2014 were found to have other European countries responsible according to the Dublin Accord. This is still standard practice for most asylum seekers, with the exception of

The Refugee Chancellor:

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Syrians, who for the last two weeks were guaranteed the right to file their asylum application in Germany no matter where they entered the European soil. The news today from Interior Minister Thomas de Mazierè that Germany has ‘temporarily’ resurrected the borders and suspended itself from the Schengen zone only served to reiterate the point that Merkel’s ‘humanitarian turn’ is nothing of the sort.

With the arrival of thousands of refugees from war torn Iraq, Syria, Yemen, Libya, Eritrea and other crisis-hit areas across the globe (this list is by no means exhaustive) this summer, European borders amounted to sufficient public pressure to soften the iron fist approach to what is perversely called ‘illegal migration’. At least for the few thousands stranded at the fences and across the European periphery, this means the de facto opening of borders within the ‘Fortress Europe’. However, this is far from an adequate response to the worldwide refugee crisis.

A short disclaimer might be necessary here: I am by no means attempting to elaborate on the question of who caused and is perpetrating the wars and violence that motivate people to enter the life-or-death lottery of crossing the Mediterranean on a vessel that might sink halfway with their entire family or fork out their savings for such a ride through hell with an uncertain outcome, while regular ferries and luxury cruise ships cross the Mediterranean daily.

However, I would like to point to the fact that the ‘refugee crisis’ is not solved simply by opening the borders within Europe or the Schengen area for refugees that were ‘fortunate’ enough to find themselves stranded at our borders. It is also not solved by hastening the legal processing of asylum applications. Nor will it be solved simply by the overwhelming and encouraging citizen and civil society support in Germany and other central European states that actually carry out many tasks that by right should be taken care of by the state. The state institutions, surprised by the growing numbers of people literally knocking at their doors, seem unable to deal with the influx of people seeking refuge from wars that have been raging in spitting distance from Europe’s borders for more than four years now (Syria, Iraq, Libya and recently Yemen and even Turkey). However, state administrations are understaffed and have insufficient resources to deal with even the most basic tasks like providing the people in need with a roof over their head, much needed health care and something to eat, as we have seen today with news that the borders are backed up.

The current European refugee crisis aside, we should take a step back in order to gain some perspective. The European refugee crisis is really just a drop in the ocean. Around 97% of Syrian refugees are displaced in the neighboring states Jordan, Lebanon, Turkey and Egypt – and that is just the Syrian refugees. In total, we are witnessing the highest number of forcibly displaced people ever recorded: currently nearly 60,000,000 according to the UNHCR. Only a tiny fraction of these refugees actually make it to Europe. Also, not all of them want to come to Europe. Most hope to safely return to their homes (if they still exist) and wait out under often inhumane conditions in neighboring countries. Still, terms like ‘refugee flood’ are constantly used in reference to the influx Europe is experiencing. These words stir xenophobia and even racist and fascist sentiments and propaganda in Europe. The sad truth is that such bold headlines produce inhumane responses to those most in need, as demonstrated by daily assaults on refugees, refugee accommodation and volunteers in Germany and other European countries.

Despite the fact that an overwhelming number of refugees have taken refuge in neighboring states,

European governments have left those neighboring countries mostly alone, facing the biggest portion of refugees while reinforcing the criminalization of immigration into Fortress Europe, hence forcing refugees into risking their lives on the illegal and dangerous journey in hope of finding safety from war and persecution. In the same vein, the prosperous Gulf States have stepped up their border security and have not taken in any refugees from their neighbors in turmoil.

Letting refugees cross inner European borders and effectively undermining the Dublin Accord is a start, but is inadequate as a solution to the systemic injustice of criminalizing ongoing migration and even reinforced by new fences as well as military and police presence among Europe’s borders as in Hungary.

Just this week, Germany determined some states in the former Yugoslavia to be ‘safe origin states’, which means that asylum seekers from these countries have nearly no chance of winning refugee status in Germany. This aggravation of the German asylum policy has gone by nearly unnoticed in the domestic and international debate hailing the ‘refugee chancellor’ (Flüchtlingskanzlerin) Merkel for taking a progressive stance in the refugee crisis.

The pervasive core of the European asylum and refugee system is that it appears humanitarian – and in line with the Geneva Convention on refugees – while at the same time visa and migration policies and border practices actually undermine the possibility for legal entry into Europe for the large majority of refugees. This drives people who are in need of a safe place, people that have lost everything or are endangered by war and violence, into an illegal and life threatening endeavor to make it to European soil in order to file their right for refuge as is legally anchored by the Geneva conventions. Truth be told, the European asylum system that has created Fortress Europe in fear of a hypothetical invasion is fundamentally undermining the principles embodied in the Geneva conventions. Even if we dispose of international conventions for the sake of argument, the reality is that people seeking refuge are forced out of their homes by war and violence.

Commentators and enthusiasts across Europe should remember that Ms. Merkel and Mr. Schäuble, among others, were the creators of the systematic criminalization of migration over the past two decades that made it nearly impossible for refugees to legally file their request for refuge or asylum.

A comprehensive refugee policy must include legal ways of allowing refugees overseas in crisis areas and the ones stranded in the surrounding countries to pursue their right to refuge and file their asylum application. A sustainable refugee policy in times of unprecedented numbers has to involve a distributive system to establish a burden sharing system across countries within Europe but also beyond.

The Gulf States as well as the US, Canada, Australia and Asian countries have to be reminded that the refugee crisis is not simply ‘a European problem’ but a common struggle. Or as Jeremy Corbyn, the newly elected leader of the British Labor party, phrased it in his speech yesterday: ‘We are one World’. If you say refugees are welcome here, that not only means dealing with those people in need standing at your doorstep, but also those stuck in war torn regions, cramped in refugee camps whose inhabitants actually outnumber those of the biggest cities in the countries that now host them.

Open the gates.

IN CONVERSATION WITH WAAEL, REFUGEE FROM SYRIA

“We Arrived and They Put Us in Prison”

hen I arrived at a bar for drinks a few Fridays ago, one of my friends introduced me to Zain and Waael, two young guys—Syrian refugees staying with our friends.

We chatted, played pool, and eventually got into talking about what was pretty hard to avoid: the crisis in Syria and how it’s affected their lives. Waael emphasized that he wanted to get his story out there, to be heard. Over coffee a couple of days later, Waael gave his personal account, which to me is a story of the human resilience and the will to persevere.

The War

Waael Alafandy is from Aleppo City, he is 21 years old. Before the war, he was a bioengineering student and an English teacher. Waael remarks, “Each year I do better, I go up.”

However, with the onset of the civil war, his family’s savings began to dwindle. Sometimes working more than 12 hours a day to help his family, his grades began to suffer. “College was fading away from my life, it was disappearing each year.”

Air strikes could occur anywhere, anytime. “Each time you say I’ll have patience, [. . .] but at some point you run out of choices. [. . .] Everything has changed, every small detail.” Living like this is full of fear and uncertainty. “You have patience, but it just becomes worse and worse—that’s why people leave.”

A Breaking Point

Waael was walking: “[. . .] this bomb was very close to me [. . .] when it bombed [sic], I flew. It was like the movies. There was an old guy in front of me, [. . .] and if there was nobody in front of me, I would have died. His body was in pieces in front of me, his blood [. . .]and that time I felt that I’m gonna die. You know, in Syria you don’t fear death. Death is the easiest thing because you won’t have the problems of all the things you have to deal with. You just die and rest. I will tell you, anyone still in Syria doesn’t fear death. But that time when I flew and saw his blood everywhere, it just changed everything.”

After this, he knew it was time to leave.

By Lily Cichanowicz

8 Berlin Logs

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The Journey

Waael went by boat for one segment of the journey from Turkey to an island in Greece.

“From the first time you saw it, the boat was damaged. It was like a death trap. At the time, we were 15 people with bags and the boat was nine meters. The smuggler screwed us, and put us on a route for an island that was 50 kilometers [away]. We didn’t want to go in the boat. There were families, there were kids. And the smuggler took out a gun and he shot it in the air and said, ‘Everyone on the boat! No one stays.’ And he really would shoot people if they didn’t go. In the middle of the sea, the engine stopped. In the middle of nowhere, the sea was terrifying.”

Waael and another passenger managed to fix the waterlogged engine—“When we arrived to the coast, the boat was filling with water. If we didn’t fix it in time we would have drowned. And even if we have lifejackets, you can’t stay in the sea! You can’t just swim 20 kilometers in the sea. It’s not as simple as everyone thinks.”

Another “adventure”, as Waael puts it, began when he arrived in Greece. “We saw the Greek police, and we thought that they would help us. We’ve arrived and they put us in prison.” Waael was in that overcrowded prison for eight days with little food, no running water or electricity, and no idea when he might be released.

“[I] finished one part of this game [. . .] They gave us papers, and we are going to finish this walk now, everything will be amazing. We will arrive [in] Germany!” However Waael needed to make his way next through Macedonia and Serbia. “It was one of the hardest parts of my life. I can never forget. When we used to sleep in the woods, it was the worst thing because it was so cold you could feel your heart shaking from the cold. We used to tell each other, please piss on me so I can be warm. It sounds funny, but it was reality.”

All along the way Waael describes having been treated like a criminal. “If you don’t pay them [the police] money, they will take you to prison or take you back [to Greece], and you have to start all over again.” In fact, he was caught several times times—“They hit you, and even tazed me, chasing [us] with police dogs.”

After nine days of walking through Macedonia and consuming only Redbull and Snickers purchased from gas stations with money given to them by citizens along the way, Waael collapsed from exhaustion when he reached Belgrade and spent several days in hospital.

The Will To Persevere

To keep going, he relied on thoughts of his family, that they were praying for him and counting on him. “Every day I walk, I just think of my family and hope and the new life I will have in Germany. And I just kept going. We used to walk for 14 hours a day. It never ends. I still have a small phobia of the railway. You just keep going. You just can’t stop. This is what I signed up for. When I have charge on my mobile I just put [on] music and be in another world. Just walk and walk. Close your eyes and just walk. Each day people would turn back, [but] anyone can do it if you have the will.”

“If you quit, you have to go back to the war.”

“A Paradise Without People Is Not A Paradise”

Upon arriving in Germany, Waael spent a short time in a refugee camp in Ruthen, a small village full of people from North Africa and the Middle East. “Everywhere I go I don’t find Syrian people. It’s all over the news, but there are few,” compared with other nationalities he’s encountered. From here, he was transferred to Langenburg, to a three-bedroom house he shares with eight people. Waael hopes to move to Berlin once he gets papers. “It’s better—so much—from other cities. You find diversity. You don’t feel strange. You feel more [at] home than any other place.”

“The journey cost me about 3000€, and that was all I had. We thought that once you arrived in Germany it would be magical. You arrived: you were in heaven—paradise! You would have money and everything. You won’t need anything else. And when I arrived in Germany, I was at zero. I had nothing. It’s really hard when you don’t have anything, and you want to live a normal life. I just hope I learn the language, that everyone will accept me for who I am and where I come from.”

“I think my choice was correct to come to Germany of all the other countries. . . Mrs. Merkel helps the refugees a lot. She’s always defending us. It’s very awesome. You won’t find that in any other European country. It’s good to feel that we have a mother. Every Syrian calls her our Mama. She believes in us.”

“German people [. . .] they have this thought about Syrians or refugees that they’re going to be bad, that they’re uneducated people from the desert.” Yet he adds, “I miss my friends. We have a saying in Arabic that a paradise without people is not a paradise.”

On Syrian Identity

Asked whether he would ever return to Syria, Waael pauses thoughtfully, “Syria is a sad story for every Syrian now. [. . .] We have become lost people. We don’t have a nationality anymore. You can’t say I am proud to be from Syria because Syria is over. There is a lot of disagreement among Syrians. Some want to go back and rebuild. Everyone has an opinion. I can go back to Syria when I have something to do for Syria.”

But either way he feels, “[Syria] didn’t give us anything. [. . .] I don’t feel the need to give back to Syria.” Reflecting on his family currently still in the war zone in Aleppo, he says, “They might die at any time. It’s a responsibility I have on my back to make a way for them, to help earn money for them to come here.”

When asked if he has any message to the German people, Waael says, “German people, do not be afraid. We are not here to take anything from you. On the contrary, we are here to live with you, to be friendly with you. We are no different. We promise you that you will see the best of us. We only want to live. [. . .] Syrians [are] struggling to prove themselves to the whole world.”

And for Waael, and many like him, this journey is far from over.

9Berlin Logs

hen it comes to opera, you could say the performance is the tangible product of an opera house: a sensory experience comprised of sound, story, and setting. But in truth it is only the very tip of the vast iceberg which is the planning, training,

and coordination which goes into any given production.

I recently had the opportunity to peek behind the curtains and witness the preparations underway for a new October premier at the Deutsche Oper Berlin: Vasco da Gama, a grand opera in five acts by 19th century composer Giacomo Meyerbeer. The opera tells a fictitious account of events in the life of historical Portuguese explorer, Vasco da Gama. With a running time of five hours, including two intermissions, this is a proper Wagner-sized opera, and thus requires more in the way of both musical rehearsal and technical planning.

This morning we arrive to the Hauptbühne a little before the beginning of stage rehearsal. Technicians are still setting up and at this point the scenery is still largely incomplete. Things are marked to show where pieces will be, in many cases only crude and basic forms with which the cast can interact, while others are more fully realized.

The current stage scenery consists of a number of large, arching, sail-like constructions on wooden frameworks arranged in a semi-circle around the stage. These ‘sails’ can be drawn up or down. I was told there had been malfunctions here and there, but there is still time to work out any

mechanical bugs in the next few weeks. There is also a large, raised wooden platform in the shape of a half-moon, on which I can make out the white outlines of Europe, Africa, and ‘the Indies’. There is a motor inside which allows the surface to be shifted up and down. This can be raised to be completely vertical, and windows slide open near the bottom.

An amazing amount of planning goes into the creation of something like this. Talks, like tentative diplomatic negotiations, begin up to two years in advance: discussions between director and stage designer, and then between stage designer and technical director, in which design dreams are translated into logistical realities. Eventually they will be etched into schematic drawings and given to those who build: the carpenters, metal workers, muralists. . . And so, looking at the set of Vasco da Gama, we glimpse the scene transfixed midway in the process of becoming the final realization.

There is a sort of life cycle to this kind of thing. Vasco da Gama is merely one bud on the tree of the opera house. I can perceive the existence of others. Lurking behind the curtains of the stage we get a view of the expansive standing room and storage capacity that are the side stages. Imminent productions are kept close at hand—in the shadows behind me the giant wooden set pieces of Tosca and Pelléas et Mélisande rise into darkness. The latter enjoyed two performances last week and will perform again next week, whereas the former opens later in October. Sets for productions not returning in the near future are stored in larger facilities off-site.

By Eileen Carelock

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IMPRESSIONS:

BEHIND THE STAGE AT DEUTSCHE OPER BERLIN

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Next, my gaze drifts to the orchestra pit at the foot of the stage, presently vacant and dark except for a solitary point of illumination at the piano. The 80-piece orchestra is tucked away in the Orchesterprobesaal, their enormous practice space is located deeper in the belly of the opera house. This morning they’ll be rehearsing with the Kappellmeister while this production’s conductor, Enrique Mazzola, is engaged with the singers on stage.

Vasco da Gama is interesting: it was to be Meyerbeer’s great work, but the composer not only died before seeing it performed on the stage, but he left behind an incomplete version of the opera. This led to the work suffering alterations, reinterpretations, and cuts, evidenced in its 1865 premier and subsequent performances under the title (and misnomer) L’Africaine. The opera enjoyed only moderate popularity in the 19th century. A casualty, alas, of changing tastes, the production had the misfortune of coming in at the end of the age of grand opera. Where Wagner’s Tristan und Isolde, premiering less than one month earlier, was hailed as groundbreaking, Vasco da Gama found itself helplessly démodé. Yet despite only infrequent revivals, the opera has somehow endured. 2013 saw the production restored to Meyerbeer’s original version to an extremely positive response—a rediscovery.

Thus an opera performed infrequently, the music is not likely to be already in the musicians’ repertoire. For this reason there is extra need for rehearsal and training. It’s like a big puzzle, bringing together the myriad pieces and coaxing

them into coherence with one another. The musicians will have received their individual parts the previous season and have begun their solitary practice. It’s only in the last few weeks that the ensembles are beginning to come together under one roof, though still momentarily separated into different chambers. Today the singers rehearse with piano accompaniment, but starting next week the orchestra will join them.

While the Hauptbühne is still being readied, I’m shown one of the large practice stages also housed in the Deutsche Oper. An eerie sense of transition and illusion pervades the space. I recognize immediately the sail-like shapes, the half-moon platform, but on closer inspection they’re crude, temporary structures, intended to give the impression of the shape and design but lacking the interactive mechanisms of their more evolved main stage counterparts. An earlier permutation, temporary scenery like this is frequently created for practice prior to access to the actual set.

A similar process occurs with the costumes. A nearby clothing rack is laden with working versions: a progression of rough impressions. All the while the costume people busy themselves behind workshop doors, readying the final garments for next week’s costume rehearsal. At this time the costume people will check for fit and function, keenly aware that nothing is ever perfect on the first try. It is an opportunity for the costume designer and the director to form their impressions, perhaps a color is not right, something is not as was imagined, in which case there is still time to make changes.

Paying a visit to one of the maske rooms with its chaotic tabletops scattered with papers and styling products and its wall lined with mannequin heads and wigs is also fascinating. There is a clipboard on which I can see the handwritten styling notes for each role. Like so many other pieces of the puzzle, the planning on this began far in advance. I can see these notes are dated from March, and the fact that they’re written in pencil indicates a state of impermanence. Eventually these too will be solidified, locked down.

Returning to the Hauptbühne, the rehearsal is now underway for Act 1: The Council Chamber. The soloists and men’s chorus are gathered around the perimeter of the half-moon platform, like a giant table. The chorus members are in street clothes, the soloists in basic costume pieces like hats and overcoats, or bearing simplistic props: a crucifix, a rolled map. I can over hear both director and conductor on microphone, uttering stage and music direction. I find it hard to follow, as the vocalists are singing in French while instruction is given in German, but I can gather that staging is clearly today’s focus. It’s all about where people are standing, body movement, hand gestures, and interactions with one another.

At this stage Vasco da Gama is still a disjointed collection of impressions interrupted by would-be organizing forces, but there are tiny moments which begin to crystallize into something, like a chemical reaction, effecting changes in my own perceptions. For an instant I can imagine, am buoyed up and transported, but only an instant. It’s still too soon, too incomplete. Still, I can visualize it—from the music, the singers and the orchestra, the sets and costumes, the story and context of the opera itself—all of it is an act of coordinated illusion, the conjuring forth of this moment in time and place in all its painstaking details. It will coalesce there on the main stage in tangible yet gloriously ephemeral reality, like a fragile living thing humming and vibrating before the captivated eyes and ears of the audience. And then it will fade and decay, as all things do, its physical parts reduced and packed away, waiting for another day, another season—waiting for another breath of life.

It gives new flavor to the word revival.

Image © Bettina Stöß

11Art & Culture

CROSBY, STILLS & NASH: ENTWINING MASTERPIECES

Against all odds, the famously dysfunctional team of David Crosby, Stephen Stills and Graham Nash are still touring the world some 46 long years since their debut album. Their tumultuous career has seen highs and lows, both of which were displayed at various points during their performance at Berlin’s Tempodrom on that rainy night, 7th of October.

Proceedings kicked off with Déjà Vu opener ‘Carry On’, which picked up considerably when they hit the ‘Questions’ section and began to warm up. A somewhat sluggish ‘Marrakesh Express’ followed before they stepped things up a notch with ‘Long Time Gone’. The burst of energy continued into a spirited version of Nash’s ‘Military Madness’, all the more poignant considering the crumbling monument standing opposite the concert hall, riddled with holes from the shelling it received during World War II.

Time has played her hand differently for each of the stars of this show, their excesses and age affecting them in varied ways. Stills’ voice has become coarse and patchy, leading him to battle through his vocal parts with audible difficulty. Nash avoids the highest notes of his recorded work but for the most part he sounds much as he did in the ‘70s. Stunningly, Crosby has become a veritable powerhouse. Despite his staggering drug abuse in days gone by, he sings with remarkable vigour and sometimes sounds stronger than he ever has before.

Fantastic versions of ‘Déjà Vu’ and Buffalo Springfield classic ‘Bluebird’ provided an opportunity to stretch out musically; harmonica, keyboard, bass and guitar solos ably demonstrating how well CSN and their backing

band can handle their instruments. However, the 20 minute intermission seemed to bring their energy level down and they began the second set with a shaky version of ‘Helplessly Hoping’ but gained momentum as they split off into a couple of as-yet-unrecorded solo tracks, both of which were excellent.

Crosby’s ‘60s masterpiece ‘Guinevere’ is easily one of the most beautiful songs ever written, a dark and delicate piece that he and Nash sing with sinuous, intertwining harmonies. Crosby joked that they do it differently at every show as they can never remember how they sang it the night before, and the version they performed for Berlin retained the spellbinding mood of the original but with different vocal syncopations.

Following this, Stills and the band returned to the stage and they powered through the rest of the set with gusto. ‘Almost Cut My Hair’ was utterly monstrous with Crosby belting like his life depended on it and Stills playing his ass off like a man possessed. Similarly, ‘Wooden Ships’ became epic; the jazz-like verses giving way to a burning exchange between guitar and organ.

The audience flocked to the front of the stage for the encore, which began quietly with the rolling country vibe of ‘Teach Your Children’. They launched into party mode with a suitably jaunty reading of Stills’ solo hit ‘Love the One You’re With’ before closing with the first song off their first album, the much-loved ‘Suite: Judy Blue Eyes’. The crowd went absolutely nuts, and it was clear that any imperfections on display did little to dampen the love for these old heroes.

By Greg Reason

12 Night Life

BERLIN, GET YA HEAD-NOD ONWe roll up to Gretchen on Obentrautstraße near 2:00am. Small disjointed clusters of people are loitering outside an otherwise unassuming building next to a Bio Markt. Perhaps I’ve grown to expect my clubs to have a certain presence, whether located in industrial cellars or decommissioned power stations. The fact that there is no queue at the door has me thrown off as well.

After checking in with the cashier for entry and neon wristbands, we push through a heavy curtain and into the club itself. Not too large but not too small, high ceilings help keep the room from feeling too narrow. Projector screens hang along the walls displaying trippy geometric visualizations in correspondence with the music, and the DJ is set up on a stage across the dance floor near the far end of the long room. All in all the dimensions of the space effect a slightly discordant yet not unpleasant close-but-cavernous appeal.

A number of pillars flirt the line between gaudiness and grandeur, the undecided quality somehow evoking an aesthetic thumbs-up until you realize that, unfortunately, closer to the bar they become real obstacles. Couches abound, which is usually a troubling sign—if there’s one thing I’ve learned in my time clubbing, it’s to avoid any cushion-based furniture in dimly lit spaces. Not that I have much choice; all the seats are taken up by rowdy guys raising drinks and bumping fists.

Indeed, the crowd is particularly interesting if only because it’s so different—you don’t realize how acclimated you’ve become to particular scene until suddenly you’re in a different one. I guess I’m used to the more diverse and integrated dance floors of Friedrichshain technoclubs, whereas here the room is mostly male, I’d guess young, mid-twenties, a lot of button-down shirts and backward caps.

Female presence, on the other hand, is minimal though not nonexistent. There are some advantages that come with that. For instance, the near-ghost town of the ladies’ room offers a generous half-dozen stalls, adorned with uplifting love-life and live-love messages, for which there is never a queue. However, the mirror is consistently occupied with makeup-reappliers, a sight you certainly won’t see at clubs like Berghain.

But then that’s the point of coming out to Gretchen, to sample a little something different.

Tonight’s program consists of a lot of Trap/Dubstep

punctuated by borderline-Hip Hop and almost-Donk moments. The sound system is okay—heavy emphasis on okay. The frequencies give some pleasant vibrations and body buzzes, but I never really feel in danger of being destroyed by the bass. I am not awed by the pressure. The sound system feels … safe. And for a genre of music predicated on intensity, urgency, drop and boom, it’s weird to observe the hits from behind the auditory equivalent of a guardrail.

Still party momentum is happily sustained, myself included. We hang back behind the thick of the dance floor, getting our head-nod on, maybe a little foot-tap here, a little ass-shake there. Not too much is the key. The danger with Trap and its steppy ilk is that they inspire you to move, they tempt you into it, and at the same time they repeatedly set you up for failure when you try to anticipate the builds and the drops. You don’t want to be the guy who goes for the big dramatic yeah and misses. We’ve all been there, and it’s painful for everyone.

Probably the most interesting part of the night is when maybe a dozen people bearing little round printed signs from Abriss Techno infiltrate the party, swallowed up immediately by the crowd so that only the signs can be seen above the throng bouncing energetically to the bass, sayings like “ficken”, “dicke titten”, “so not munich”, and of course “refugees welcome”.

The last one—you’ve got to hand it to Berlin, even on a seemingly bro-tastic Trap clubnight in Kreuzberg, the message is here—Refugees Welcome.

Berlin, get ya head-nod on.

By Eileen Carelock

13Night Life

14 Berlin Logs

By Johannes Kuhnert / Photo Ben Gross

IN CONVERSATION WITH KLAUS LEDERER:

“If we hadn’t got the volunteers, everything would have collapsed by now.”

Klaus Lederer is state chairman of Die Linke (‘The Left’) in Berlin. Since 2003, he has been member of the Berlin parliament, led by an SPD-Linke government from 2001 to 2011. In this interview Klaus Lederer discusses his views on Angela Merkel’s handling of the refugee crisis, the divided reaction from the German civil society and the possible influence of the local government. The interview was conducted one day before Die Linke officially announced Klaus Lederer as its 2016 mayoral candidate.

Concerning the current influx of immigrants from the Middle East, Germany, and Angela Merkel in particular, have received a lot of positive coverage from the international press. To what extent can you share these sudden sympathies?

To some extent. At least the short-term decision to say we would let the trains from Hungary pass through to Germany came completely unexpectedly. Moreover, we should applaud Merkel’s insistence that there is

15Berlin Logs

no upper limit to the human right of refuge and her appeal that decency and humanity are at the bedrock of the political apparatus. On the other hand, we know what Merkel is like: what counts one day does not necessarily count the next. For example, she introduced border controls in Bavaria because the CSU did not want to burden the Oktoberfest with the refugees. Such indecent behaviour which makes concessions to reactionary forces only stirs hatred. We also need to talk about refugee accommodation – subject to arson attacks throughout Germany over the last months and years. We need to talk about racist grassroots movements like PEGIDA, BÄRGIDA and other sorts of reactionary indignation.

And so the situation in Germany is very ambivalent. In face of reactionary voices like Victor Orbán in Hungary or Horst Seehofer in Bavaria, the German government stands out – but only relatively.

Were you surprised not only by the political reaction, but also the reaction of civil society in terms of the sheer number of volunteers?

I believe we have to understand Merkel’s statements as a response to the solidarity shown throughout German civil society. In the face of the serious failure of state institutions and administration, people have organised themselves. With this newly emerged solidarity and their willingness to help, they managed to take over functions that would normally belong to the government. But again, we cannot close our eyes to the fact that right-wing populism is on the increase, that racist voices grow louder and that there are assault and arson attacks on refugee accommodation.

Some people try to build up political pressure in the insane belief that refugees are motivated by pocket money from the German state when they pack their stuff in their bitter destitution in the Syrian civil war. We, of course, remember such slogans from the time when the unholy ‘asylum compromise’ was agreed to in 1992 (when the CDU-FDP government and the SPD opposition changed the constitution to restrict the right to asylum in response to large-scale anti-refugee protests).

These laws are still part of our problem today. They were the forerunner to later EU legislations. Now again, legal paths to Germany and legal ways to seek refuge are being restricted. We cannot leave these facts out of the picture. The only way to get to Germany is through Frankfurt airport, all other routes are via other countries. The German government is now trying to leave Southern European countries alone with the problem, which is indecent and divisive. So we find ourselves in the same situation we had around the crisis in Greece. We have a common market, but we do not share social and political responsibilities.

If we look at Berlin, what would you say are the room for manoeuvre of the current local government (SPD-CDU) and how would you assess their actions so far?

The room of manoeuvre in Berlin obviously does not extend to asylum legislation [this is decided at a federal level]. The possibilities we have here is to do everything we can to make sure that people arriving

in Berlin can lead a self-determined life as soon as possible. We cannot fool ourselves and believe that the people who come here from the Syrian civil war or who have fled from Afghanistan will go back within a few years. That’s why it is necessary not to lose any time. We need to see that people can live in normal conditions, without being stigmatised, can participate in our society and build a life of their own without being dependent on state benefits. The first problem we encounter is the fact that registration, initial reception, and the asylum procedures take an incredibly long time. While these procedures are ongoing, refugees have basically no chance to lead an autonomous life. We’ve got a situation in which Berlin was not prepared and still isn’t, even though it had been clear for years that we would come to this point. During the SPD-Linke government, we have started to create accommodation that would not look like refugee camps – we were hoping to get people into normal housing. Since 2011, when the current government came into power, we have seen that these efforts have been discontinued. So this year we had debates about so-called “container villages” which we reject because such large-scale facilities tend to lead to stigmatisation and prevent people from living a self-determined life. Today we are in a situation where sports halls are requisitioned and tent villages are set up so the refugees can at least find shelter.

It is a complete and utter disaster. You just need to look at the scenes from the LAGeSo [Landesamt für Gesundheit und Soziales – Berlin’s central registration office for asylum seekers] the authorities put most of its energy into enforcing the parking ban and clashed with the volunteers that wanted to get closer to the premises in order to provide exactly the things that should be the state’s responsibility – primary medical attention, something to drink and to eat, clothing. Of course it is great to see the ways in which civil society initiatives spring up. Unfortunately, the Senate now sits back and uses the volunteers to praise itself instead of working on its own shortcomings. The truth is, if we hadn’t got the volunteers, everything would have collapsed by now.

With elections in Berlin next year, what do your party’s proposals on the issue look like?

In December 2014 we outlined our conceptual proposal concerning asylum policies, ranging from accommodation to participation and integration, and fighting against racism. Refugees whose sexuality does not conform to the ruling norms of others’ countries of origin – or the supposed norms in this country – need to be protected from assault. We also need to support not only refugees, but anyone who is disadvantaged on the housing market. We need to secure education with special offers for refugee children, as well as German classes for everyone. But I do not see a reason to turn this into a special topic for the election. What will always be a main topic for us and will also be a topic for the election is the strengthening of civil society against racism, to provide information to fight right-wing populism and stand together against neo-Nazis.

We need to show the refugees that they are welcome and support them so they can lead a self-determined life.

DRINKING, DANCING & DONATING

t was a Saturday, and I was drinking beer in the kitchen at a typical WG-Party, when the conversation turned to the refugees. While I was expressing optimism about the change in

people’s awareness, one girl interrupted me to say that these political “commitments” are nothing more than another trend, that most people do little more than changing their social media profile picture or going to benefit concerts. She told me that, at the end of the day, all of this is just a selfish attempt to make oneself feel better.

I felt busted. Even if I do volunteer once a week, I had to admit my last Facebook profile picture was indeed a pink sign with hearts reading “Refugees Welcome”, and, yes, I’d planned to go to a fundraiser club event the same week. Was I, too, only one of these passive “activists” whose only motivation is to appease their own conscience? Was it out of convenience that I’d convinced myself that a Facebook “Share” button or a beer for a good cause would change anything?

By Aylin Sarica

@about blank

I

Image © Aylin Sarica

16 Night Life

I decided go to the fundraiser at ://about blank anyway to find out more by talking to my fellow partying would-be world-changers. I arrived at the club around 1:00am and was surprised—no queue? That’s a rarity in Berlin. Did I have the right night and event? Then I spotted a guy wearing a “Refugees Welcome” hoodie leaving the club. Yes, this was the right place. For the first time, the 10€ entrance fee didn’t hurt—and I immediately felt ashamed, musing sardonically, “Hello, 21st century activism . . .”

I danced for a while, enjoying the music and the atmosphere, before stepping outside for a cigarette. There’s a nice fireplace in the garden, and I ended up sitting down next to a guy who came to Berlin from India. Following the obligatory small talk, I asked him my question of the night—”Are you here for a good cause?” He looked at me surprised and answered no. He’d only randomly found out about this party and come for a taste of Berlin’s nightlife. Ok, I thought, maybe the refugees are not a topical subject in India. But then he told me that India also receives a lot of refugees, though not from Syria—from Bangladesh. “They show it in the news in India too, and our government is also having difficulties with refugees. But the situation is different.”

The next guy I talked to was from Australia. Same procedure, different person. Small talk, and then, “Are you here for a good cause? “ He smiled at me, “I honestly came here because it seemed as the only good party for a Wednesday night. “

Irritation swept through me. Is our generation that selfish? Also—where are all the dedicated Germans?

While I was looking around for someone else to talk to, I realized that I was hearing nothing but varying English accents. Therefore, time to consult the dancefloor. There I met four Americans. Unfortunately it seemed like their focus was on the heavy beats, only pretending to understand what the other person just screamed into your ear. They rejected my suggestion to talk outside. Again I popped my question, “Are you here for a good cause?” And again I came up empty.

A good summary of our conversations: Drinking is fun. Sure. It’s even more fun when the money goes to

something beneficial. Sure, sure. The time for my reflection cigarette had come.

Sitting outside, another wave of self-criticism threatening to sweep over me, I suddenly overheard someone speaking German. Luckily I didn’t scare the guy away in my overexcitement. Apparently he’s very active in various organizations as well as taking care of a Syrian family. “I’m here both for a good cause and to have fun,” he affirmed. “One does not exclude the other.” This guy was actually the turning point of my night.

The more people I spoke to, the more I realized that lots of them are simply happy about each new opportunity to help. On the sofas was a whole group of people who had donated clothes and toys and were very involved. Later one girl told me that 1.9K people had signed up on the Facebook event. “I’m sure a lot of people just click “Attending” for the image of it, but what matters is the outcome—they raised so much!” She pointed to the donation stand, and, indeed, it was overflowing. Not only that, she told me with a big smile on her face, but all the DJs were playing for free, and a lot of people had enthusiastically given 20€ at the entrance.

Around 5:00am, I was dancing again, my eyes closed, feeling happy. All the motivated people I met by the end of the night made me realize that increased awareness of the issues in our world is never a bad thing. On the contrary, if this is only a trend, then let there be more trends like this, as it’s the outcome that matters. Certainly one could and should do more than just changing profile pictures with each social movement, or going from one benefit party to the next. There’s always more room for contribution. But even if the act of “donating” transpires alongside dancing and drinking—if it gets people motivated to help out, then it’s a good, good thing.

Image © Aylin Sarica

Image © Aylin Sarica

17Night Life

MILLENNIALS OF BERLIN & THE REFUGE

AT ://ABOUT BLANKBy Azalea Tang

Millennials worldwide have received no shortage of negative press, often being typecast as the ‘selfie generation’ or those people who are too preoccupied with themselves and social media updates to give a shit about the world. While selfie culture certainly exists in Berlin, it is also clear to me that the 20-something population here is motivated to use their social networking influence for good. In the wake of the refugee crisis, there have been numerous innovative projects involving 20-something Berliners utilizing what resources they have to bring about social change.

In early September, friends Patrick Russell and Chris Duncan got together and came up with the idea to throw a benefit dance party to raise money and awareness for the refugee crisis. For the event to happen on September 30th, Patrick and Chris had to hustle to coordinate with charity centers Moabit hilft! and Rathaus Wilmersdorf for donations as well as a number of Berlin-based DJs to play the event. Though both Patrick and Chris hold full-time jobs, and Chris was in Vietnam for the majority of September, they managed to pull everything together in just a few weeks.

Hosted at ://about blank, located near Ostkreuz, the party began at 6:00pm on Wednesday and, in true Berlin fashion, went until 7:00am the following morning. By 8:00pm, people were streaming in and all three rooms were already alive with music and dancers. The booking for The Refuge was really quite impressive, featuring Laurel Halo, Fred P, Objekt, and Palms Trax as well as number of other local DJs. Even more inspiring was the fact that all these DJs played for free and some even brought their own donations for the

cause. A donation area sat in the corner of the garden patio, run by volunteers (mostly friends of Chris and Patrick), where partygoers could drop off winter clothes, toiletries, and toys for the refugee centers.

Although the event was certainly open to refugees, there were none to be seen at the party. Speaking with Patrick about this, we discussed the difficulties of arranging transportation from the service centers to the club, and how there was not enough advertising for the party this time around, essentially limited to Facebook and word of mouth. However they hope to print out paper flyers to hang in the shelters next time.

Around 900 people came through the door that night, mostly Berlin millennials and dedicated clubbers looking for a reason to party on a Wednesday. By midnight, at €10 a head, the event had raised a sizable chunk as well as the other kinds of donations. And while Berlin’s millennials are not swimming in cash, they are able to spare a little extra on an activity they already enjoy: good techno. Herein lies the effectiveness of the event. Outside, the garden stage went on until 10:00pm with open-air effervescence, fueled by Space Mountain’s bold disco selections. Maybe people wanted one last outdoor hurrah before facing the impending reality of cold Berlin winter, but I think the incredible energy was simply because Space Mountain kept playing bangers. At 10:00pm, everyone was encouraged to move indoors. In keeping with many other Berlin club set-ups, ://about blank provides guest with a variety of spaces to hang out in depending on your mood. Besides three dance floors (which all play to different energies), there are a number of through spaces, couches, and lounge areas

18 Night Life

for you to occupy—as if the club was accommodating all possible phases of your party needs.

Inside, things began to heat up as more people arrived, packing onto the two dance floors. One of the nice things that keeps the selfie-craze in Berlin to a minimum is the no-photography policy imposed by most clubs, including ://about blank. Guests are encouraged to stay present and off their phones while on the dance floor. Another refreshing aspect of Berlin club culture is that most people go out to actually dance and enjoy the music rather than to scope out someone to go home with.

On the dance floor itself, conversation was at a minimum. For the most part people were there to boogie. In talking to a few guests, I gathered that quality dance music is one of the only stable aspects of people’s lives in Berlin. With struggles like job insecurity, finding long-term

housing contracts, a long day’s work, or general feelings of impermanence in the city, club-goers were there to cast away personal frustrations and simply dance—while supporting a good cause. United in the idea that everyone is struggling in some way, it felt like a small release to work out those issues on the dance floor.

With the help and enthusiasm of many others, Patrick and Chris pulled off a memorable party. A number of other events have popped up since, including a Refugees Welcome party at Watergate, with similar goals of bringing awareness and assistance to the crisis. Though I wish the refugees themselves had been better integrated into the event, I still left the party with a sense of pride in Berlin and its millennials. This initiative was more than just hipsters looking for a reason to party on a Wednesday—it was a creative solution that channeled limited resources to create something beautiful.

Images © Azalea Tang

19

20 Startup

S

HELPLINGE X BETAHAUS:THE STARTUP SCENE GIVES BACK

omething that is perhaps overlooked in the social media storm of refugee-related articles which have taken over so many media feeds in recent months has been the

quiet contributions of business in Germany. You’d struggle to find a man among the author’s friends brave enough to paint her as a pro-business type, but disregarding party lines, there has been a serious, concentrated effort on the part of businesses in the city to contribute to the refugee situation in a positive way. And while it is easy to dismiss the efforts as a corporate social responsibility (CSR) stunt, it turns out to be a mistake. I took my jaded self down to see it in person and was pleasantly surprised.

I was pointed towards Helplinge, a group that has been at the centre of many of the civil society efforts in this city, as a useful point of contact for this issue. When I reached out to them for a meeting, they invited me down to their event at Betahaus.

For anyone who has been in Berlin startup scene for more than three months (a milestone, admittedly, which rules out a substantial chunk of the city’s CEOs) will be familiar with Betahaus, but for the uninitiated, Betahaus is the Granddaddy of Berlin’s shared work spaces, located on Prinzessenstraße in Kreuzberg - home to innumerable startups, poets and lonely folk alike. The event, they informed me, was aimed at refugee families, and would be both a day of activities for the kids, and a tour of Kreuzberg for the adults.

Upon arrival, there is the feeling you get when you arrive at the train station and are suddenly sure that you’ve misread your tickets and you’ve shown up on the wrong day. The place is empty. I wander through Betahaus’ cavernous halls and take in the most startup-y of all startup offices (think IKEA, neon colors, pinboards, 3D printing labs) before messaging Helplinge for some guidance - where is everyone? They’re running late, it turns out - the

By Sarah Coughlan

Images © Stefano Boghi

UBahn was late. There is no mistaking them on their arrival however. Streams of people throng through Betahaus’ properly-hipster cafe space accompanied by the Helplinge team. It is busy. They pass into a room off to the left, decked out with craft materials, crude language-learning pictures (‘Gut und Schlecht’, ‘Haus, Baum, Mutter, Vater’ etc.) and out into the backyard to games led in English by one of the Betahaus team and interpreted by a person from Helplinge. The kids play for about twenty minutes as families crowd around benches. Repeated attempts to talk to the organisers are stymied by small children with balls to be thrown, giddy calls for more, and the odd grazed knee.

Finally I find someone with a moment to talk to me, a chap in dark glasses who’s interning at Betahaus. Ed, who works in Betahaus’ education programme, tells me that the concept for the day had been dreamt up relatively recently, envisioned as a monthly event for refugee families to help to alleviate the kids’ boredom while they wait for school places and intended to run for at least the next six months. Ed then tpoints me towards Alice Nell, the PR mastermind behind the day. Again, my jaded self flares up, PR you say?

Alice is running between the backyard and the craft room, clearly tending to a million details at once. She agrees to talk to me (but not before giving my credentials some very serious consideration) and takes a few minutes away from making prints with a child of about eight. In conversation with Alice though, it becomes clear that I was wrong. The aim of the day is simply to offer something -- anything -- to help with the refugee situation. Betahaus, as an organisation, realised that their primary asset was Betahaus itself, as in the premises. Once Alice points it out, it make a lot of sense. All the things that turn so many people off from the startup scene: the neon-everything, the beanbag chairs and homemade IKEA-esque everything else, are the same things that make it a very, very good creche. Thus armed with the space, Betahaus is surprisingly well-positioned to do a family day like this. And if nothing else, startups are supposed to be responsive, to be able to move with the changing conditions. In offering a day like this, at least, Betahaus proves itself to be as agile as you could hope.

The aim, Alice tells me, is to ‘keep everything

positive’. She’s easily succeeding there - the yard is wall to wall smiling Betahaus staffers, and a handful of Helplinge navigating crises among the kids they know so well. ‘Sustainable -- that was important too,’ Alice says, perhaps preempting the need to ask if this is a stunt, a way to tap into community goodwill for some easy points for Betahaus. ‘We’ll do this for at least six months,’ she intones, almost identically to the way Ed spoke half an hour before. PR people indeed. Regardless, Alice makes a strong impression, and raises a thought that had bypassed me so far -- what are these kids supposed to do with themselves all day, every day? Without school places or proper accommodation, the weeks stretch out intimidatingly for refugee children.

Of course, there are difficulties, Alice points out. Chief among them, the children are all different ages, which means targeted activities are tough to organise, yielding the kind of free-for-all feeling this morning has built to. Looking at the kids though, I get the sense that the preoccupation in creating ‘structured’ activities is more for the organisers -- the kids look positively delighted to be running around and playing with brightly coloured chalks.

‘But it’s not political,’ Alice insists (Ed said exactly this to me too), and I get the sense that the day had been the subject of careful discussion in meetings before tpday. I wonder to myself later if it matters that Betahaus wants to position their refugee family open house event, which frankly couldn’t easily make a bigger political statement, as simply a ‘nice thing’, and I conclude it probably doesn’t matter -- everyone looks happy after all. But then, I’m back to where I started. Is this just how startups do CSR? No, I tell myself, it’s coming from the right place, and political or not, that’s good enough.

22 Social

By Niklas Kossow

Since it opened to the public in 2010, Tempelhofer Feld has become host to many citizen initiatives. Community gardens, yoga classes and BBQs – all are common sight on one of the biggest open spaces in the world. Yesterday the former airport became host to another strong sign of community engagement: a welcome picnic for refugees.

Organised by the alliance Schön, dass ihr da seid (‘Nice that you’re here’) it aimed at bringing Berliners together with refugees and helping them to get to know each other over a meal. For that, the alliance organised a beautiful picnic. People from all over the neighbouring districts brought home food. There were salads, breads, snacks. Some met up before and made food together, like the The Real Junk Food Project Berlin and Cooking for Peace Berlin. A drinks stall sold the usual ethical lemonades, the takings going to the financing of the project.

The organisers had created a nice atmosphere with some tables, including decorative oranges, and picnic blankets covering some of the ground at the Tempelhof Picnic spots. What sounds like trivial details contributed a lot to the convivial atmosphere of the event. After a slow beginning, Berliners who had come from the different corners of the city quickly sat down with some of the food and were joined by refugees in conversations.

While there are no official numbers published yet, there were easily over a thousand people at the Tempelhof Picnic, some of them staying until the evening. There was a space for initiatives supporting refugees to present themselves and a small refugee law clinic. But the citizens’ alliance had even taken care of entertainment with DJs and music acts playing all day long, as well as a space for kids with different activities including Arabic storytelling and face painting. One great gimmick was Wi-Fi that visitors could sign up to, which enabled them to meet each other via an ad hoc network.

Strictly speaking, an online network was a nice feature, but not really necessary. Those who wanted to quickly got talking anyway. A picnic does not seem to be a great achievement, nor is it going to change the lives of refugees in Berlin. However, it stands a nice symbol for the willingness of many Berliners to work together on integrating the newcomers to the city and to get to know each other. For some of the refugees it might have been a welcome change to everyday life and another gesture telling them that Berlin is willing to accept them in its middle. In any case, the welcome picnic was another moment that shows Tempelhofer Feld continues to inspire Berliners to make good, creative use of its emptiness.

Welcoming Refugees, One Picnic At A Time

We left San Francisco and relocated to Germany last year; and although I had deeply loved my former home, and happily lived there for decades, the tech boom of the last few years wrought some very ugly changes. The average rent for a one bedroom apartment has soared to a ludicrously high average of $5,000 a month, which has not only displaced most of my artist friends, but also fundamentally altered the character of The City by the Bay in most unappealing ways. Not only can writers, teachers and other normal people no longer afford to live there, many established museums and other arts organizations are also being evicted. What had made San Francisco such a uniquely creative and special place is now rapidly fading.

We now live just west of Berlin, in the picturesque city of Brandenburg an der Havel, in the former East Germany. The lovely hamlet’s cobblestone streets are bustling with bicyclists and pedestrians, and are lined with stunning cathedrals, medieval statuary and a variety of beautiful historic buildings, while many forests and lakes are only a short bus or bike trip outside of town. Even though rents in Germany’s capital are quickly climbing, we only pay a mere €300 a month for our spacious high-ceilinged flat a block from the river, and nearly everything that we need is within walking distance in our neighborhood. Since my spouse is a German citizen, most of the immigration process has been a bit easier for me than most people, but it is still a struggle. Even though we have the loving support of extended family, the benefit of adequate savings and higher education, learning to adjust to this very different culture and language remains difficult.

Before we settled here, we spent the first few months of our transition in the state of Hessen, a little south of Frankfurt in the tiny beige town of Stockstadt, where my spouse was raised. Arriving at the beginning of a long, frigid winter only served to accentuate the cold unfriendliness of the local populace. Every day while walking our dog few people would ever even say hello, and would frequently cross the street to avoid any contact. I always felt that I was being eyed with distrust and suspicion, which is maybe more common in a small village, where someone whose family has not lived there for generations may be more obviously viewed as an outsider.

All types of immigrants are also more common in this area than in Brandenburg, even in this remote and inconsequential suburb. Some of our relations’ immediate neighbors are from Turkey, Poland and North America, and plans were being made to settle a few dozen Syrian refugees nearby; but the various ethnic groups remained largely stratified and did not integrate or socialize much with one another. The region where we were staying lies in former West Germany, and is thriving economically. Unemployment is low and rents are high, and though

most people appeared to be far more affluent, they also often openly radiated judgmental hostility and bitter joylessness. And in my experience, even though foreigners are more prevalent, most of the populace was not very interested in embracing other cultures or someone different.

Foreigners are far less common here in Brandenburg than in the south, but I have always felt much more welcome in this part of Germany. People I encounter on the street seem very interested in where I am from, and why we would leave San Francisco for this smaller and less cosmopolitan city. Or maybe it is because immigrants are fewer here, that I am frequently viewed as such a novel curiosity. Being a pale blue-eyed atheist I may be perceived to have more superficially in common with most of the local residents than a darker-skinned Muslim refugee might, but even when my still mediocre language skills clearly mark me as an Ausländer, nearly everyone is warm, open and friendly to me.

Surprisingly, only 3.4% of people from immigration backgrounds are currently living in what used to be East Germany, which may be due to a number of factors, including severely restricted immigration and refugee policies from when the Wall was still in place, fewer employment opportunities, as well as the mass population exodus that the followed the fall of the DDR, and the past forced expulsion of resident guest workers from other countries. Until the implementation of the German Nationality Act of 2000, the country’s restrictive and somewhat xenophobic citizenship laws even forbade most children born to non-Germans anywhere in the nation from becoming citizens – hardly a welcoming policy for foreigners.

As Germany’s population has been in decline, attitudes towards immigrants appear to now be shifting. The influx of hundreds of thousands of war refugees and others is seen by most as a much-needed benefit that will positively impact the country’s economy and future. Everyone whom I have spoken with about immigration has said that these changes are largely positive, and that it is also the country’s moral obligation to do everything possible to help war refugees. We have extended family, some of whom themselves were Eastern European refugees from WWII, who live in Nauen, where a temporary asylum shelter was intentionally burned to the ground earlier this year. They expressed their horror and shame at such hateful racist actions taking place in their home town, and believe as I do that the concept of national borders is somewhat senseless, and that, regardless of where we were born, everyone should be given the opportunity to live freely together in peace.

By Rhonda Winter

WHY AREN’T THERE ANY REFUGEES IN THE FORMER DDR?

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24 Social

MOVEMBER:MEN WITH MOUSTACHES DO IT BETTER

ll hail Movember, the month of the moustache, when men grow their finest handlebar to raise awareness for prostate cancer and other men’s health issues.

In Germany, the campaign has been encouraging men to “Mo up” for men’s health for three years now. However, it was first organised unofficially by Australian born Ben Lancaster in 2011. “Coming from Australia it was second nature to do Movember, but when I came here I couldn’t find anywhere to do it. I had a marketing and events job at Belushi’s Bar in Mitte, so I got in touch with a friend of mine at Jameson’s and we decided to see what would happen if we tried to push for Movember in Berlin.”

In 2012, Movember had its official launch in Germany. The month has expanded significantly since. Michael Fischer, Movember Country Manager for Germany, says the foundation is hoping to maintain this “mo”-mentum, “Since the first official year we more than doubled our size in Germany and

then doubled once again last year. We are hoping to get even more Mo Bro’s on board this year.”

The need to reach out to Mo Bro’s in Germany becomes glaring obvious when considering men’s health statistics here. One in two German men will develop cancer in the course of his lifetime. Prostate cancer remains the most commonly diagnosed cancer in German men and testicular cancer is the most common cancer in younger men aged 25-45. Furthermore, the average life expectancy of German men is five years less than women, according to the Movember Foundation. Michael says that these statistics highlight the reality that is addressed throughout Movember. “A big part of the difference between men and women is not only because men don’t go to regular checkups but also because they don’t feel encouraged to talk about their health issues.”

However, it is not just physical health that this

By Alice Dundon

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event addresses. Movember has partnered with World Suicide Prevention Day to help combat and create awareness around the shocking male suicide rate. Adam Garone, Movember Foundation CEO, says addressing these issues is something to which the foundation is committed. “510,000 men die from suicide globally each year; that’s one every minute, yet it’s hidden in the shadows and shrouded in stigmas. It is our mission to make this a global priority.”

The proceeds raised during the month go into the Movember Foundation’s global fund to support vital research in an effort to reduce these confounding statistics. Raising money throughout the month can be done individually; however, during Movember, everyone who signs up is encouraged to unite with their friends, colleagues and community to rock the Mo together.

In Berlin, the guys put on a range of events throughout the campaign to keep the fundraising momentum going, and create a community for the participants.

We have a shave down on the first of November at a couple of bars at the start of the month and it’s open to anyone who wants to come along,” says Ben.

After the initial shave down there are a range of other events throughout the month, including a Gentleman’s lunch, comedy evening and even a live tattooing night.

While it might seem like a bit of a boys’ club, girls are also encouraged to get involved in the month. As Ben describes, “We have a Mo Sister award and that is really important. We always acknowledge the Mo Sisters that come out to events and raise money. As they say, ‘Behind any great Mo Bro is a Mo Sister’.”

Remaining in contact and giving each other support throughout the campaign is a vital part of its success, and is ultimately why the guys urge people to register. “Registering is a big thing; it’s one of the most important things because whether or not they raise any money it means they are getting the message from Movember and they are aware of what is going on,” Ben said.

Registration for Movember is currently open and anyone can get involved via the official Movember Germany website. “They can register at any point during the month, and the good thing is that even if someone registers very late and can’t be involved, we can reach out to them next year,” Ben said.

It is this sense of connectedness that allows Movember to transcend from an average fundraising campaign into a community that can be called upon long after the month is over. This is important, as a massive part of the event is to create awareness and open up the dialogue around men’s health.

“It is to break down the image that you have to be a tough guy at all times. There are some really heavy conversations that take place during the month. We always encourage people to take back the message to their workplace or family and raise awareness about these issues,” Ben said.

All information about upcoming events in Berlin can be found on the ‘Berlin Mo Bro’s’ Facebook page, and all events for wider Germany can be found on the official Movember Germany website.

So, while that initial shave down can be a bit daunting, Ben assures participants that their sex appeal only grows with their moustache during the month. “I’d say it’s a 20-25% increase on how much better looking you are with a moustache.”

A recent survey from Mail Online agrees with him, citing that 80% of women say they find men with moustaches more attractive. With odds like that, there really is no excuse not to fully embrace the month of the ‘Mo.

Ciao Bella!

26 Food

THE BEST PIZZA IN THE CITYBy Alice Higgins

27Food

Pizza, pasta, preggo! Be it a slice, a square, a rectangle or the familiar circular shape we all know and love, there is absolutely no shortage of pizza in this city. But it must be said, there is pizza and there is pizza. I am not interested in any old 1.99€ pizza where the paper plate it’s served on looks more tempting than the cardboard pizza base itself (unless, perhaps my moral pizza compass has been horribly skewered by a mixture of alcoholic beverages, maybe). I am after the real McCoy. Unless I hear the sing-song of Italian voices coming from behind the counter, I am not interested. To me, the vital ingredients stop and start with mozzarella, tomato and fresh basil. If you’re a real pizzeria, you can work wonders with these mere but magnificent ingredients.

To kick start your carb loading in preparation for the Berlin winter (or perhaps the hibernation season), here are the Italian restaurants (Ok, best place for pizza, let’s be honest) that should be at the very top of your list for a slice of the bel paese.

MASANIALLO: Neukoelln, Hasenheide 20Book a table and jump on the U-Bahn to Hermannplatz as fast as you can. This is undoubtedly the most delicious place. You are greeted warmly by Italians the moment you step foot in the restaurant and once more from every member of staff you pass and again from the chefs flipping dough for the Holzsteinofen in the open kitchen as you are taken to your seats. For an all-Italian evening this is the place to go. Not to mention the best Napoli buffalo mozzarella and tomato pizza in Berlin.

A MAGICA: Prenzlauerberg, Greifenhagener Str 54The magic is all in the pizza. Service is not guaranteed to come with a smile but the Margherita La Regina (6€) sure will put a smile on your face. Perfect for a lunchtime treat to share or save your appetite for the evening and savour one slice at a time. La Regina hits the spot and even had me questioning my loyalty to Masaniallo with every other mouthful.

NINI E PETTIROSSO: Neukoelln, Selkestrasse 27Amongst the kleinaberfein of pizza restaurants but still as strong in competition. No matter what time of day, there will always be happy smiling people chowing down on their pizza or pizze (we’re multilingual here at Berlin Logs, don’t you know) of choice. Served on classic wooden boards, you can sample a variety of different pizzas as they are served in small square corners at 2€ each – it’s the pic’n’mix of pizzas. Hearty salads, pastas and traditional tasty Italian pastries or tiramisu also await those with a sweet tooth.

PAPA PANE: Mitte, Ackerstrasse 23A sophisticated affair for fine dining, this place has an upmarket feel to it. While the restaurant cannot hide its Mitte postcode, it manages to create a warm and friendly Italian atmosphere nonetheless. The delightful dollops of buffalo mozzarella on my Pizza Papa Pane were to die for. , and there was a heavenly helping of both cheese and tomato sauce. Next time I might even wander astray and order the spinach and ricotta pizza, which a friend sampled. Again, nothing fancy. Just simple, yet stunning flavours.

CENTRO ITALIA: Charlottenburg/Prenzlauer Berg/Marienfelde The home of Italy lies within these four walls. Restaurant, wine bar and supermarket, all in one. Everything and anything Italian can be found here in this mysterious, magical place. A specialist concept store serving focaccia sandwiches larger than your face will always be in my good books. Whether you’re hunting down ingredients for an Italian recipe or looking for a lunch spot, this is where you should take your hunger. There may not be any pizza, but their Italian charm more than makes up for it, especially when free espressos are known to be a regular thing if you remember your grazie mille!

Berlin and I wish you Buon appetito!

As it is easy to be swept away in the seemingly endless torrent of nightlife that thrives here in Berlin, it is even easier to find your mind and body reeling from overindulgence. Trying to create equilibrium between work priorities, alcohol fuelled hedonism and finding time to exercise the mind and body can feel impossible. So when I find the former are outweighing the more important latter, I take myself to a yoga studio for some much needed recuperation.

Yoga is the perfect mix of aerobic exercise and flexibility training. But it is more than just a physical exercise. As you progress through positions, the regulation of your breathing fosters an internalised rhythm in the body. The more you can engage and focus on the body’s flow, observing the repetition of the movements, the more you begin to gain mastery over the physical senses. This undulating ability to exert governance over one’s mind and body is responsible for the sense of calm felt while practising yoga. It is a means to create and strengthen the connections between mind, body, and soul.

Within the umbrella term “yoga” you will encounter a multitude of different styles, classes, religions and philosophies. Whether you favour the rhythm and flow of Vinyasa, the control and power of Ashtanga, or the relaxation of a more meditative form, there is something for most tastes. And once you have found a style that suits you, the next most important factor would be finding a teacher or studio you connect with.

Generally, I like to schedule my classes around some basic guidelines. If my life balance has been overly hedonistic and orientated towards late nights, then I will attend a more difficult Vinyasa class. With more of an onus on physical energy and flow, I can attempt to sweat out the innumerable units of alcohol I’ve consumed in the previous 48 hours. If, however, and in the unlikely circumstances that I have allowed myself to be consumed by work commitments, then I change tact and aim to take a more meditative classes. This allows me to cleanse my mind and reenter a more stable and balanced headspace.

So with that in mind, here are a selection of studios and drop-in classes in Berlin that are taught in English:

Yellow Yoga - Gelber Raum Mariannenstraße 48

Cost: €7/€9/€12 per class (sliding scale) www.yellow-yoga.com

Yellow Yoga boasts two studios here in Berlin, one in Neukölln and this one in Kreuzberg. Situated just off of Oranienstraße, it is the smaller of the two studios, yet has a brilliant selection of classes on offer – most of which are taught in English. With a class rating system

By Liam McGuckin

WE’VE GOT YOU YOGA CLASSES IN ENGLISH

No German?

28 Tips

from Beginner (rated ‘A’) to a more advanced (rated ‘C’) you can find a level which best corresponds to your ability.

Recommended Class: Sunday 7.30pm – Yin Yoga (all levels) taught by Victorien

On a Sunday evening when you may be battling a weekend of debauchery, tear yourself away from the couch and onto the yoga mat. Victorien guides you through a meditative Yin yoga class focused on cultivating inner silence and connectivity. Just the thing to get you centered again.

Yellow Yoga - Studio Sonne Sonnenallee 67

Cost: €7/€9/€12 per class (sliding scale) www.yellow-yoga.com

Yellow Yoga’s other studio on Sonnenallee is considerably larger and equipped with better amenities, including an impressive reception room which allows opportunity to relax after classes, drink green tea, and interact with the fellow Yogis.

Recommended Class: Sunday 7.30pm – Vinyasa (level B) taught by Naama

If your weekend has been peppered with equal parts work and party, then this is the class for you. A moderately difficult level B class will see you work through Vinyasa at a faster pace. Don’t be fooled by the light introductory mediation.Things accelerate rapidly. Before you know it you will be fighting for breath, trying in earnest to let those fatigued muscles take a break at each momentary pause in Downward Dog.

Yoga In English: Mondays in Kreuzberg Buddhistisches Tor (Grimmstraße)

Cost: €8 per class (or buy 3 for €21) www.yogainenglish.berlin

Looking to kick-start the week with yoga class? Then this would be the obvious choice. With immaculate facilities and a comfortable studio with its very own centrepiece Buddha, the setting is spot on. Every Monday at the Buddhist Centre, Anya runs two classes – one beginner and one intermediate, at 6.15pm and 8.00pm respectively. Both of Anya’s classes are, without a doubt, the best Vinyasa classes I’ve visited in the city. With an almost omnipresence in the studio, Anya makes a strong connection with her students and evokes a powerful energy within the room. The ebb and flow of the Vinyasa reverberates in the psyche long after you’ve gone.

Holistic Yoga Berlin | Prenzlauer Berg

Cost: €15 per class www.holisticyogaberlin.com

Holistic Yoga Berlin, the product of Ewelina, gives way to a more inclusive and personalised yoga experience. Twice a week she opens her doors to small group sessions each with a different narrative. Inside this small studio with high ceilings, scents of lavender punctuate the air that is laden with light ambient music. The experience is far more intimate and focused than the larger studios, and you certainly reap the benefits.

Recommended Class: Ewelina has an excellent 8pm Chakra Healing class every Thursday at Die Wohlfühler (Kollwitzstraße 77). Positions are limited so it is best to reserve a spot in advance. Each practise looks into one of the seven Chakras with the aim of restoring it to its former glory. As you are initiated with a light mediation, the class progresses into a more Hatha-orientated style, with particular stress on a given Chakra. Expect to be feeling calm and restored after attending the session.

So with a plethora of different studios and classes here in Berlin, why not break the cycle of your week with a drop-in yoga session? All classes offer you the opportunity to try it out without contractual obligation. This will allow you to identify the right style and the right teacher that best connects with you and your goals. Shift the balance of your weekly commitments and allow a little time to focus on the self.

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