I had the most wonderful time in the east German city of Leipzig. The hostel I stayed at was a steal, in a four bed dorm with a private bathroom and free breakfast. It's so small that I found most of the highlights could be explored in just a couple of days. Though the town is tiny, Leipzig is packed with culture and history. It was the home of such great cultural influences as Bach, Mendelssohn, and Goethe. Leipzig is also said to be the birthplace of the civil revolution in 1989 that led to the downfall of the German Democratic Republic.
There are no "free city tours" of Leipzig, but to honor the city's musicial past there is a 'Music Trail.' It's formed by arrows in the pavement that lead to the most important city sites related to its musical history. The first thing I did when I left my hostel on Monday morning was to follow the Music Trail, along which I found such historical musical and non-musical sites as:
• Alte Borse, the old stock exchange
• Goethe memorial sculpture
• Universitatskirche, the stunning modern church connected to the local university
• Augustusplatz, an old square in the heart of the city
• Krochhaus, a beautiful old Jewish building
• Madler passage, quintessential tourist trap of high end shops
• the old and the new town hall
• Nikolaikirche, birthplace of the 1989 peaceful revolution which overthrew the GDR
• Thomaskirche, the beautiful church where Bach used to play
• Panorama tower, Leipzig's skyscraper with stunning views of the city
• Unzeitgemasse zeitgenossen, a cool sculpture that I can't pronounce either
• Opernhaus- the opera house, built in the time and style of GDR
• Gewandhaus- the new concert hall, opposite of Opernhaus
• Hoefe am Bruehl, more tourist shopping
• Market Square, where I watched them build the Christmas Market that will disappointingly open just a few days after my departure
• the Bach Museum
• Mendelssohn's house
And that was all just in my first afternoon!
For dinner I got pho, which was much better than Hamburg's and really hit the spot. Back at the hostel I chatted with my roommates, who are from the south of Germany touring the Eastern region. I never know whether to warn the people sleeping with me that I sleep-talk, but they would find out soon enough.
Unfortunately, I was more than just unconsciously chatty at night in Leipzig. My last night there I woke up screaming from a trauma-related nightmare. This used to happen frequently, but I've worked so that it only happens a few times a year now. Back home I used medication that caused me not to enter such deep R.E.M., but I don't have access to such medicine (or even nasal decongestant, as it seems) while traveling. Fear of shame from waking up screaming nearly dissuaded me from travel abroad in the first place, as I knew I would be sharing rooms. I was really embarrassed that it happened and apologized profusely to my disconcerted and shocked bunkmate, who responded with total kindness and empathy.
The next morning I had breakfast at the hostel before going to meet Steffen, a native Leipziger who agreed to give me the local tour. He said he likes showing people around his hometown because it allows him to see it in a new light. Like me, Steffen enjoys the cultural exchange of swapping stories with someone from an entirely different background. We walked around the inner-city a bit and he was surprised by how much I had already seen. Although I had seen a lot the previous day, all the signs at the historical sites are in German, so I had seen the sites without understanding their significance. Steffen was thorough in explaining the history, pointing out architectural quirks, and answering my twenty-one questions.
We left the city center to see Spinnerei, an old cotton factory which is now a hub of art galleries. It was a religious holiday in Leipzig, which is why Steffen had the day off, but that also meant all the galleries were closed. I was initially disappointed not to see them, but the place was beautiful, there was a lot of street art, and we got to watch some welder-artists working on their projects.
We headed back to the city center and strolled around Clara-Zetkin park, which my hostel describes as "the nicest park in the city." Steffen stuck with me as I made googly eyes at the cute bundled-up kids and asked strangers to pet their dogs, in my typical fashion at any given park. We stopped at an cafe in the park for coffee and cake, then sat outside and fell into deep conversation. Our compatibility became rapidly apparent as we discussed our values, exchanged stories of our pasts, picked each other's brains, and joked around.
Next we went to Fockenberg, which is the only "mountain" (read: hill) in the whole city. Steffen informed me that it is in fact not a natural landmark, but a pile of rubble left from war, over which the landscape eventually grew. On the path all the way up the hill are chunks of tree trunks spray painted in neon colors and graffitied over. The top of the mountain features incredible views of the city. The evening before I had been to the Panorama Tower and enjoyed a spectacular view from the top, but looking down on the city I had only recognized a few places. At the top of the hill I recognized much more of the city, thanks to my newly acquired knowledge of the city. As we stood walked around, Steffen pointed out the various sites we had seen together that day as well as the places I had yet to see.
Of course, you would be absurd to suggest that I had pho again for dinner. But, I picked up a cold with full-blown sinus congestion, and soup is the ultimate healing food. So... assume what you will. Steffen had the next day off work as well, and we had such a nice time together that he offered to spend the following day showing me around too. I was pleased to be in such nice company, and happily agreed.
After breakfast at a local bakery, we went to the Stasi museum right around the corner from my hostel. Of course, all of the signs were in German, so I was glad to have Steffen with me to translate. While the Berlin Wall fell several weeks after my birth in 1989, Steffen was around the prior decade so he grew up in the GDR. He was the impressionable age of 11 when the wall fell. When we got to the display in the museum about the way children were indoctrinated to uphold GDR values, Steffen excitedly pointed out the uniform and told me he had the same one when he was a child. This fascinated me, and he thoughtfully reminisced about his past as I asked what it was like growing up in the GDR, what was his family's political position, what did he know about the Stasi as a child, and whether he thought he might have grown up to enforce GDR values had the revolution been unsuccessful.
I learned so much from the museum, and I also recognized bits and pieces I learned about the GDR and Stasi when I was back in college. Although I'm sure Steffen had been there several times, he seemed to really enjoy it too, although I don't know whether it was because he was thinking about his childhood, or because he enjoyed explaining the former political situation to a wide-eyed outsider.
As we walked to a cafe for afternoon coffee, we came across the memorial to the Jews of Leipzig. It consisted of a platform with what appeared to be a hundred empty chairs, and it was accompanied by fresh flowers and Yartzheit candles. The placard explained that the Jews of Leipzeig were rounded up and exterminated very rapidly, which ignited a deep ache in my heart. It made me think of Scandinavia in the stark contrast of how many Jews they managed to save, whereas it sounded like there was so very little resistance in this part of Germany.
After pointing me in the direction of the next museum I wanted to visit, Steffen and I parted ways for the afternoon at what I can only describe as a massive vibrational sounding bowl. There's water inside which you use to wet your hands, and then you rub the metal handles in a precise way. If you do it just right (it took me many, many tries to do it just right), it begins to make a sound similar to that a large Tibetan singing bowl, then the water looks as though it grew a film on top before it fizzles and tiny bubbles jump out of the water.
I went to Zeitgeschlichtliches Forum, which Steffen insisted I learn to pronounce correctly before I went (another feat which took many, many tries). I saw two exhibits at the museum. The first was about the rise of communism, life in the GDR, and its ultimate downfall. All the signs were in German, and most of what I understood was based on the history Steffen had imparted on me, and the handful of German words he taught me. The second exhibit was about immigration in Germany, which dated back to the 1950's. I found this exhibit particularly interesting in light of the protest I had come across on Monday in reaction to the refugee crisis. Of course, I couldn't understand any of the signage, but the visuals were striking enough to make an impression anyway.
I met back up with Steffen for dinner at an Italian restaurant called Vapiano's, where I enjoyed a dish of risotto (aren't you glad I didn't say pho?). It began to rain as we left the inner-city to see the Monument of Battling Nations. After a few full days of walking and with the rain coming down hard, I wondered whether it was that important to see, but Steffen seemed intent on my viewing it so I went along. The monument turned out to be incredible, perhaps even more stunning in the rain. The photos I took don't do it justice, but will give you a decent idea of how glorious it looks.
My new dear friend and I bid farewell with the suggestion that we meet up again in Berlin or Dresdin, which are both a short train ride from his home in Leipzig. I caught the train the next day to Berlin, my new home for the next two weeks.