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Rikard's avatar

Nostalgia.

Cheap döner at a kebab-restaurant on Oranienstrase. THe punks begging for money at Kottbusser Tor. Gedächniskirchen, the nearby Arcade at night, the fugly Olof Palme-platz, eating a whole meal including a 1 Liter tankard of beer for 4:50 Mark in the city center, Schnell-imbiss, Karl Marx-Allee looking like the world's slowest racing track when the Trabbis were putt-putting along.

And getting the business-end of an AK-47 almost-but-not-quite pointed at me when the Border Guard at Sassnitz took my passport and handed it off to a colleague for a closer look (or to make me nervous).

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York Luethje's avatar

Thanks for that. November 9th was the only day I can recall my mother ever cursing me. I had just watched the legendary Schabowski presser and yelled to my mom „I think the wall has just fallen!“. Her reply? „Ja ja“. If you know, you know.

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