Among the scores of tombstones and mausoleums of different shapes and sizes that line the pathways of Weissensee Europe’s largest active Jewish cemetery are two collective monuments. At its very heart stands a memorial for the fallen Jewish soldiers who fought for Germany in the battlefields of WWI; at its entrance, one for those murdered by Germany in WWII. Resting between these markers in time lies one of the protagonists of our journey, Hermann Cohen.

Ioana mentioned that following the unification of Berlin, Jewish youth groups were often tasked with cleaning up the overgrown cemetery. The teens always looked forward to it. Perhaps we should start a grave-cleaning elective this spring.

We hopped on the crowded Bahn back to the city center to visit the Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe. This installation has been a Berlin landmark since the 1990s, drawing millions of visitors annually due to its central location. As one walks alone through the grid of grey concrete pillars, feelings of disorientation, discomfort, and even mild anxiety are immediately evoked.

Our visit to the memorial led to an interesting conversation about how societies choose to commemorate and confront their inconvenient pasts. This discourse, of course, is not unique to Germany. Ioana made the insightful comment that guilt is often evoked by unresolved matters, while issues being actively addressed – even if full resolution is unattainable – lead to a sense of responsibility.

On the way to the memorial, we stopped at the site where Hitler’s compound once stood, now a mundane apartment building. In front of the building stands another interesting memorial paying homage to Georg Elser, who attempted to assassinate Hitler, hoping to take down Goering and Goebbels along with him during a shared speech in November 1939. Following the failed assassination, Elser was interrogated and tortured by the Gestapo before being executed in April 1945.

If living in a space that once housed the world’s epicenter of violence isn’t strange enough, residents of the apartment building must carefully navigate their attached parking lot to avoid running over one of the dozens of tourists constantly strolling through it. Yes, they park their cars right on top of the Führerbunker. While Berlin made the conscious decision not to turn the site of Hitler’s demise into a memorial, it remains one of the city’s most visited spots.

With enough death for one day, it was time to experience Jewish life in Berlin. And what better time than Shabbat? We were fortunate enough to secure invitations from two local groups – the Fraenkelufer Conservative Synagogue and Hillel Berlin. Since we wanted not only to learn about Jewish life but also to form personal connections, we opted to celebrate Shabbat with the younger crowd at Hillel.

All we knew going in was that, unlike in the U.S., Hillel Deutschland is not attached to specific universities but serves all students and young adults in their cities. The event would be held in English, but we didn’t even know the location.

This only changed a day before the event when an email provided the address (an old apartment building in one of East Berlin’s less gentrified neighborhoods) along with a strict request not to share it or bring any items that would identify us as Jewish. The vibe felt somewhere between being invited to an underground rave and trying to evade the Stasi – very Berlin.

We arrived exactly on time (when in Rome) and, after passing through two levels of security, found ourselves the only guests for a while. As Shabbat approached, the room filled with about two dozen young, friendly Jews. Aside from our students and one of the rabbis, everyone had some kind of accent, which explained why the event was held in English. The Berlin Jewish community consists of four main groups – the largest being Israelis, followed by Jews from the former Soviet Union (who arrived after 1989), “Germans” (those who came from the USSR during or before the Cold War), and a mix of expats. The most commonly spoken languages at gatherings are English, Hebrew, Russian, and then German.
The local community members, including the hospitable Rabbi Sami (born and raised in Berlin), were genuinely interested in our group and delighted that someone had come to Berlin to witness living Jewish life.

The Kabbalat Shabbat service blended Conservative and Hasidic elements, with Hebrew prayers followed by a niggunim-filled oneg. The musical highlight was the Breslov classic “Gesher Tsar Meod,” sung in Hebrew, German, Russian, and English.

Since this was a phone-free event, we were late in hearing the horrific news about the attack in Magdeburg, about 100 miles west of Berlin. In a previous blog post, we wrote about our visit to Kaiser Wilhelm Memorial Church. What we hadn’t mentioned at the time was witnessing a memorial service outside the church for the 13 victims of a similar attack there in 2016.

On our last day in Berlin, we returned to the historic Jewish quarter to visit several fascinating sites. We began with yet another memorial dedicated to a truly unique event: when Jewish husbands of non-Jewish wives were rounded up in Berlin’s old synagogue, their wives protested outside for no fewer than ten days in the bitter cold of February. Their efforts succeeded, and the husbands were released. This was the only public protest by German citizens against the Nazi regime during the war.

Equally inspiring was our visit to Otto Weidt’s Workshop for the Blind. Known as “Berlin’s Schindler,” Otto, a self-described anarchist, saved blind and disabled Jews by employing and hiding them in his brush-making workshop.

To conclude our visit to Berlin, we paid our respects at the grave of one of Berlin’s most iconic Jews – Moses Mendelssohn. The Jewish philosopher of the Haskalah (Jewish Enlightenment) spent most of his life in Berlin, paving the way for modern, liberal Jewish life as we know it today.

As we wrap up the first leg of this journey, here are some reflections from our teens (which they composed over our 8.5 hour bus ride to Warsaw).

Eliana:

Berlin has such a rich history, and we have really just focused on the past 90 or so years which is crazy to me how recent it all is. Kind of sad too I suppose because so much violence so recently. I like how we have been doing a combination of WW2 and cold war, since both of them have had a huge world impact. I find it really cool how I learn about all of these things in school and have heard so many stories of people during WW2 and now I am at the center of where it all happened. One of the things that I find very interesting is how there that there are many rules and protections surrounding Jews in Germany right now so you would think it would be safe, and it is safe for the most part, except when we went to Hillel everything had to be kept very secret. To me the two kinds contradict each other, and still sad how people don’t feel safe practicing religion openly. It was also interesting to see Jews from around the world and see how things are very very similar. Also I will admit I am not totally loving the German food, but I do think the Asian food here is so good but I kind of miss having pasta. It’s also so windy. Anyways, time for Poland!

Avery:
I am so thankful to have gotten the chance to tour around Berlin the way we did. With our tour guide and Shoni, we were able to uncover so much history in such a short amount of time. Previous to this experience, I had learned a lot about the Holocaust but mostly just about what the Jews had went through during the Nazi rule. This trip, however, taught me about the “why’s” and the “what’s” not only about WWII, but also all of German history and jewish history pre-Holocaust.
All the sights and exhibitions we visited were interesting by themselves, but I was able to grasp this much deeper understanding because our group did not just tour around to see the sights, but instead, we unpacked each stop we took. It was satisfying to see how all the pieces we learned bleed into each other to create German history.

Lily:
This trip to Berlin has been incredibly memorable and special, but also deeply eye-opening. It has taught me so much, from learning about the first recorded Jewish communities in Germany to understanding the rise and fall of the Nazi regime. So many things have been brought to light for me.
One of the most difficult aspects to grasp is how a city like Berlin—filled with light, laughter, parties, celebrations, beauty, and a powerful story—could also be the site of so many atrocities committed against Jews. Walking through the Christmas markets, it’s hard to imagine that, just 80 years ago, these same places were marked by fighting and suffering.
This experience has also brought to mind many of the topics I’ve studied in school, drawing connections and parallels to our world today. It has made me incredibly grateful for this opportunity to engage in critical thinking about the events of World War II and their lasting impact.

Jordan:
What made a strong impression on me was the Jewish Museum. The museum was one of our first stops and we were completely put off guard (literally) by the museum’s design. The floor was created to throw visitors off balance and the walls often caved inwards. In some parts the floor and ceiling were so close one had to duck. The design highlighted how difficult it was for Jews to navigate the time period with visitors getting put off balance and forced to navigate sharp and narrow hallways. I think it was an important start to our week and kicked off our learning on the difficulties this museum highlighted.