| No Flash Photography |

Something that struck me as interesting throughout my first few days in Berlin came from my inability to use my camera (Bear with me, I promise this will have a point). Like any goofy tourist I immediately activate my camera and start searching for things I found interesting the minute I arrived. I began to realize very quickly that in the area I was to be staying, after taking a picture, I was given a disapproving look. Students I was traveling with were told not to take picture flat out, and in some cases were shouted at the minute the flash went off. However, after a short ride on the train taking photographs of interesting advertising, store fronts, or just in the general direction of people did not seem to offend anyone. Can you guess why?

First impressions of German culture left me scratching my head. As I ventured outside of my hostel I observed the streets, the smells, the stores and began to realize something, there is nothing German about this neighborhood. Some of the women wore headscarves, some of the men had a darker complexion, and there was an intoxicating smell of kebabs in the air. Though much of this was foreign to me, there was one aspect I found very familiar – it is a community comprised of Germans, first generation citizens, and immigrants (who for legal reasons don’t like having their picture taken).



As a first generation citizen of the United States, I can draw certain parallels to this German sub-culture and that of my own as a Cuban-American. There remains a strong connection to their native culture maintained in their daily lives, coupled with the obvious German influences makes this area Berlin cultural stew. A short stroll down the street with the IPod on mute and the diversity in their spoken language preferences begins to become quite obvious. However, after traveling a few train stations down the S1, German surfaces as the dominant language. After resurfacing in a more central part of Berlin, I began to see and notice the busy streets, cars, clothing, dining establishments and even some of the music from a passing car. To the untrained eye the differences would appear somewhat subtle from where I began my observations, but something about this cultural mix reminds me of home.