My Friend and Suitcase in Berlin

Ich hab noch einen Koffer in Berlin,
deswegen muss ich nächstens wieder hin;
die Seligkeiten vergangener Zeiten,
sind alle noch in meinem kleinen Koffer drin . . .

I still have a suitcase in Berlin,
so I must go there again soon;
happy memories of times gone by
are all still there in my little suitcase . . .

(Hear Marlene Dietrich sing it here.)

I went to Berlin to see a friend that I had met two summers before at an Ulpan class in Jerusalem.

He, a German Benedictine monk, and I, an American rabbi from Washington, D.C.

We studied and spoke Hebrew together.

When the time came to say goodbye, he sweetly asked, "Why don’t you come to Berlin?"

I laughed and smiled and thought to myself, "A German monk is asking me to come to Berlin? This invitation intrigues me."

Two years later at the Berlin Hauptbahnhof central train station, we found each other on the platform among the throng of people swishing past us.

Through his eyes, I saw Berlin.

I traveled through time and history with my guide and friend. Nazism, Communism, the fall of the Berlin Wall, democracy, the Brandenberg gate, apologies, memorials, rebirth, revival, restorations of buildings and churches and synagogues, remembrances and noveau everything.

I left my suitcase and my friend in Berlin.