by 
Mackenzie Patel
The famed Berlin Wall. Everyone has heard about it. The bloody stain of its history can be felt all throughout the city. It’s the physical manifestation of a cultural divide that’s monumental as well as frightening.
I had the chance to walk along this dilapidated relic of Cold War history when I visited Berlin for three days. I already stepped daintily across the remnants of the West Side Berlin Wall (directly behind the Brandenburg Gate), but the East Side was an entirely different beast. Whereas the West Side was touristy and overshadowed by the official beauty of the Reichstag Building and the iconic Gate, the East Side was in a rather unsafe and sketchy part of Berlin, the buildings surrounding the great divider resembling bombed out ruins. This symbol of inhumane brutality was constructed in 1961 and was meant to segregate Communist East Berlin from the Capitalist West Berlin. I couldn’t imagine a world in which my mobility and life was strictly limited, but after I saw this gigantic concrete wall, I was muted. About 100 people died attempting to cross the barrier because the Soviets had fortified the crossing with sheer brute, adding barbed wire fencing, guard towers, and ravenous dogs as patrols. Looking up skyward towards the top of the wall, I was filled with a sense of despair and sadness. The upper walls are curved into cylinders and smooth as glass, making it impossible to grip onto or support one’s weight. However, some Easterners managed to elude the Communists and escape into the West Zone by digging tunnels, driving their cars into the wall, and even catching rides with hot air balloons. With the de-escalation of tension and Soviet domination in the late 1980s, the Wall was finally ripped to pieces in 1990. Interestingly, a family relation of mine is an East Berliner and only barely escaped into the free Western zone when she was a child—what recent history that nevertheless seems so ancient and foreign to me! Several renowned speeches were made in regards to this imposing blockade, most famously Ronald Reagan’s plea to “tear down this wall” to Gorbachev. Read more history about the Wall here.
On the particular day I trekked to the East Side Gallery (a strip of the Berlin Wall on the East Side containing over 100 murals), the weather was rainy, cold, and generally destitute of any natural cheerfulness. Since wifi was limited in my hotel, I had to rely on a paper map to navigate the labyrinthine streets of urban Berlin to the sketchier outskirts containing the remnants of the Wall. Either because I was walking slowly or time seemed to drag on in the misty, gloomy weather, it took 45 minutes for my mother and I to reach the poignant space. It was jarring how disparate the two sides of Berlin still were; it was painfully evident when one was exiting the ritzier side of the West and entering the abject zone of the East. Gray, blocky buildings filled my view nearing the East Gallery and everything seemed worn down, as if the War had ended mere weeks ago, not decades.
Select Murals of the East Side Gallery
When we finally attacked journey’s end and feasted our eyes upon the famed murals, I was a tad disappointed. Yes, the spot was sacred and probably evoked painful memories for many people, but it wasn’t the location or the dark history that left a sour taste in my mouth. Every mural, immense and monumental in its own fashion, was scrawled dirtily upon with tasteless graffiti. So many international artists had poured their sweat and talent into this modern relic only to have it destroyed by uncultured and unappreciative vagabonds. While the 1.3 kilometer section of the wall was sinisterly impressive, the surroundings were certainly not. A barren wasteland filled with torn down buildings and concrete remnants was on one side of the Wall while a gray road and kitschy tourist stands were on the other. Even the art, once so emotional and meaningful, couldn’t make up for the deterioration of the place. However, maybe that is precisely the point; this disturbing memorial, so full of hatred and divisions, will always be bound to reflect its original spirit of war, death, and unkemptness. Artists who contributed their skill to the slab of concrete include Alavi, Noir, Kriedner, and Avignon, but the arguably most famous work was painted by Dmitri Vrubel. Born in 1960, this Russian street artist created My God! Help Me To Survive This Deadly Love! mural in 1990. Having been obsessed with this work prior to visiting Berlin, I was stunned and taken aback with awe when I finally stood in front of its kissing couple for the first time. Stained with useless graffiti and whittled by the forces of nature, the work was still a tour-de-force of feeling and history. The controversial piece based on an iconic Cold War photograph depicts Erich Honecker and Leonid Brezhnev locking lips steamily (although kissing was a sign of greeting, not forbidden romance). I love the unique perspective and the feeling of intimacy that is forced upon the viewer almost brutally. And because I am an art history nerd, I had to get a picture of me kissing the camera in front of the sultry communist couple. Other murals that stunned my mind were It Happened In November, Curriculum Vitae, and Some Heads.
My God! Help Me To Survive This Deadly Love!
Find out more about the East Side Gallery here.