9/11 - the exuberant one

My friends, this is a great day.
Just 20 years ago, the wall came down and freedom finally reached the 16 Million people in the former GDR. I can not even begin to fathom the extent to which this day has affected my life. Without the peaceful revolution, without the fall of the Berlin Wall and the opening of the borders, without reunification of GDR and FRG into what I now call my home country, without all of this - I have no clue where I would be and what I might be doing now.

But some things are for sure...

I would NOT have been able to seamlessly continue my secondary education all the way to my high school diploma. I would not have started studying psychology as the subject that I was simply most interested in. I would not be sitting here in the midst of a mass of intelligentsia and pursuing a PhD in something as labourer-unlike as Neuroscience. And let alone all of that, I would definitely never made it as far as the Western Europe, the US or India. Chile and China? I doubt it, but who knows. And if I'd been able to go there at all, it would most probably have been under drastically different conditions.
But why is that so? Why is it safe to say that my life would have been ultimately different from what it is now? Reason being - my parents were never "into" GDR politics and hence never let us become obedient followers. Starting in 1st grade, they made the decision to not let us follow whatever ideology the state proclaimed - not because they wanted to differ for all that it was worth. Not because they wanted to make us the odd kids in class (being the only one who was NOT a Young Pioneer really puts you into that shoe, though I have to admit that I never suffered from it). Not because they wanted to complicate our future. And certainly not because they didn't care for us or tried as much as possible to protect us. Instead, they did so because they believed that socialism and the way it was carried out was a wrong ideology. They disagreed with being forced to do as the state pleased and to not be able to use their god-given freedom to change their life. They believed in Christian values, in human rights and in freedom, and I think they were able to instill those believes in me and my siblings as well. As far as I know, they were never open dissidents. They never wanted to overthrow the government, they never wanted to leave their country behind and try their luck somewhere else. Instead, they believed in change from within, driven by the people themselves. However, in the weeks leading up to the Nov. 9, 1989, they wouldn't in their wildest dreams have imagined that the wall might actually come down. They participated in the peace prayers and demonstrations, but were also afraid that the government might come down and crash the revolution. In the beginning of the demonstrations in that eventful October of 1989, they took turns in participating in the demonstrations, trying to minimize the risk of being imprisoned and losing us to foster homes. If it seemed critical, my father would go whilst my mom would stay with us (the logic? It's easier to take kids from their dad than from their mom.). Later, they would both attend the demonstrations. Before leaving, they made sure that friends knew of the three of us and told my brother to not open the door unless it was the friends mentioned. The police? We shouldn't even open the door to them. Clearly speaks of different times...
Fortunately however, everything changed and the unexpected happened. I don't remember too much from that fall, apart from the general enthusiasm and traveling that erupted. Still, what I clearly remember is my first trip to West Germany. There are millions of similar stories, but this is the way I experienced it.

Reunification did - at least for my 8-year old mind - happen overnight. Not really understanding what all the fuss was about, I witnessed my parents borrowing a friend's care that year during fall break, getting us in and going off to “Grandma and Grandpa”. With my brother being the only one to voice suspicions about the contradicting road signs, we were unlucky enough to be stopped in our tracks by hitting another car and were forced to turn around. No-one was hurt, and my mother (as opposed to my dad) was as fierce and relentless as only people can be who finally get the chance to travel where they want to go. So off we went – the next train swished us off to a bigger city, only to spend hours on the platform watching trains pass that were full to the brim with other GDR citizens on their way to the West. Midnight came and we celebrated my little sister’s birthday on one of the departure platforms, singing her a song and giving her a little present. When we finally got onto the fifth train we managed to get two seats (for my mom and my brother) and a 5-inch-wide window sill, which became the resting place for me and my sister. We were propped against the windows, held steady by other passengers’ arms while slumbering. A couple hours later we passed the border, leaving somber-looking guards and their German shepherds behind, only to be welcomed by good friends half a day later. The trip was a one-week impromptu vacation, but it felt like a miracle to a little 8yo-girl. And who knows what would’ve become of me if all of these events had not taken place?

So taking that into account, I am deeply grateful to all those people who fought hard and long for this, who took a lof of risks upon them to gain freedom for their people. Not all of them lived to see the change, not all of them were blessed by the changes they helped bring about, not all of them managed to deal with the change. But what I most credit them with and what I most admire in them is this: the courage, to stand up and non-violently fight for their and all of our rights. DANKE!

Hanna

P.S.: I went and searched high and low ;-) and finally dug out that kind-of hymn from 1989 - a song called "Freiheit" (Freedom) by Marius Müller-Westernhagen. (and for the record, let's forget right about the other song)