A Berlin break with a difference

She sat two stools away from me and since she appeared to be on her own, I struck up a conversation. As a result, two significant things happened. I established that it was her birthday and invited her to join me for dinner which she kindly accepted. After all, no Trinidad male would want her eating on her own, especially on her birthday, would he?

The second thing of note was that she was German and from Berlin, one of the few European capitals that I had not visited. With the world Cup looming at the time, Germany was, of course, in many people’s thoughts. But my thoughts were not so much about football but more about places such as Checkpoint Charlie and Brandenberg Gate.

I mentioned this to her, adding that, as a broadcaster during the years when both Berlin and Germany were divided, it was one of my great regrets that I never saw the wall before it came down. She promised that if I came to Berlin, she would show me around, provided that she could find the time from her busy life as a professor at the Berlin School of Economics.

But what was she doing in Tobago? Was she a tourist? And how did she hear about the island? Well, the truth is that she wanted to let her hair down a bit and decided to take a package deal for the Carnival which she saw advertised in a travel agency. Her package included air fares, accommodation in both Trinidad and Tobago and membership of one of the big bands which allowed her to play mas’ on both the Monday and the Tuesday.

Anyway, she was good company in Tobago and I felt comfortable enough to keep in touch and fix a convenient time for me to visit Berlin from where I have only just returned. And this brings me to the second part of today’s story. As it turned out, my visit coincided with the city’s Christopher Street Day, a celebration that reminded me in a number of ways of Trinidad Carnival itself, except that this was a gay event.

But the thing is that I have some vague recollection of carrying the story of the origins of Christopher Street Day during my days at TTT. It originated in a bar on Christopher Street in Greenwich Village, New York, in 1969.

The bar was called Stonewall Inn, a hangout for gays. Police raided the bar, some say brutally, and its patrons started a riot that saw violent clashes which later turned into demonstrations demanding equal rights for homosexuals and transexuals. The event was widely seen at the time as the true birth of the gay liberation movement.

The first German Christopher Street Day took place in Berlin in 1979, with only a few hundred participants. It has been an annual event since then, with an estimated 300,000 gays and lesbians now living in the city which they regard as an “El Dorado for Homosexuals.” Accord-ing to German newspapers, last weekend’s parade had a turnout of 450,000.

The professor and I watched the bands gather on the Kurfurstendamm, the main thoroughfare of western Berlin, from where they headed for Potsdam Square and the Brandenberg Gate, ending at the Siegesaule, the place where a golden Victory Angel is perched high atop a tall monument. Here, good humour and good German beer ensured a party atmosphere for the rest of the day and into the night.

The bands were mostly on trucks, with band members dressed in bright, colourful and sometimes outrageous costumes. With temperatures well past 33 degrees Celsius, the Berlin Mirror headlined the story in next day’s paper as: “Berlin noisy, Berlin in colour, Berlin almost naked but Berlin hot.” (This is a very loose translation from the German but I am sure you get the picture).

Fifty-three trucks took part in the parade. There were many placards, most of them highlighting political and other forms of discrimination, not necessarily in Germany but in parts of the world where gays and lesbians are being persecuted. Members of the bands gave away leaflets and other forms of literature, as well as condoms, one of which landed on the head of an old lady who had to ask what it was.

The Berlin Morning Post reported that Berlin’s Mayor Klaus Wowereit, himself a gay man, was at Siegesaule where speeches were made. The mayor, who was accompanied by his partner, called for more tolerance and respect for gays. He also called for solidarity with those in Eastern Europe who, he said, were being treated badly by their governments.

About a quarter of the 450,000 on-lookers and participants came from other countries, including the United Kingdom. Many were gay couples, openly kissing and holding hands, with some dressed in the scantiest of clothes. But other individual participants were in beautiful costumes some of which would have turned the heads of even Trinidad’s best-known band leaders.

Apart from showing me the Christopher Street Day parade, the professor was also kind enough to give me a road tour into the former East Germany and a three-hour river-boat tour around the centre of Berlin. I was able to see Checkpoint Charlie, the border crossing between the American and Soviet sectors, used by foreign citizens and diplomats.

I also saw bits of the wall, still left standing to remind all of its former existence. Protected to the east by land mines, it was known by East German authorities as the “Anti-Fascist Protection Wall.” It surrounded West Berlin and, altogether, it was nearly 100 miles long. I saw, too, the bridge where spies were exchanged at the height of the cold war. And, of course, Brandenberg Gate, which stood watch over the divided city.

There was also time to see some of the more beautiful and relaxing parts of the city and to eat at some of its finest restaurants. All in all, it was a most interesting visit which would not have taken place had I not met the professor at the Tropikist. So, once again, I ask: “Why do certain things happen?” Well, I don’t have the answer but thanks to the professor, anyway.