Having a Near-Death New Years in Berlin

What's funny to me about Germany is that it's a country where you cannot, under most any circumstances, buy a gun but you can buy 10 near professional-grade fireworks and set them all off at once mere inches from someone's face. Every year in Berlin, I almost die on New Years Eve. Every fricking year.

There was the year someone across the street set off a firework diagonally, narrowly missing my forehead and the year someone near me lit off an explosive under a cop car and I ran away before the cops struck back.

This year, I decided to just stay home. "New years poo years," I muttered to myself while reading random blogs on the Internet. It was admittedly hard to concentrate because there were so many explosions going off near my apartment, but I was determined to sit and read. Who cares if it sounded like Baghdad outside? I was in my happy place. My Enya place.

Unfortunately, this feeling didn't last.

After hearing one particularly squealy firework go off somewhere out of my field of vision, I suddenly became interested in what a professional fireworks show looks like. Let's get one thing straight: my fear of roving squads carrying dynamite in no way negates my love of good spectacles. Not cheap ones, like the poorly orchestrated shit show going on outside my window, but the kind endorsed by corporations and performed with professional aplomb.

The biggest fireworks show in Berlin was at the Brandenburger Tor, a grand, 18th century gate in the center of the city. The gate was originally commissioned by King Frederick William II of Prussia as a gesture of peace, but was later used by the Nazis for their processions of war (CONTRASTS). Today, the gate was a relatively inoffensive, yet unmistakable, historic background for presidential speeches, protests and a memorably bad David Hasselhoff performance. Tonight, Bonnie Tyler was expected to perform in front of it, since she missed out on last year's New Years shindig. I switched on the TV, if just to see what a German audience thought of Bonnie.

Tyler was lackluster, and the crowd's disinterest almost comical, but watching the count down clock tick towards its inevitable demise was making my heart race. The year was almost over, and what had I done to commemorate it? "I'm going to celebrate new years at home? In my low-self-worth-shirt and spaghetti-stained sweatpants?" I thought to myself. I began whining to no one in particular. "What now?" Eyal asked. I began undressing myself. Eyal got excited. Then I put on my jacket. "HONEY WE NEED TO GO WATCH SOME SHIT EXPLODE!"

As soon as we had left the apartment, I regretted my decision. The street outside was like one long booby trap. People were crouched in dark alley ways, fiddling with their explosives. Shadowy figures were poised across the street and I couldn't tell if their fireworks were pointed towards the sky or towards us. Big booms sounded in far-away locales.

 

(Video by me)

A halo of fire shot up near me and I ducked. "Save yourselves!" I yelled. Then I realized it was a toddler holding a sparkler.

We walked quickly yet purposefully towards the park closest to our house. There, a gaggle of puffy-coated spectators were staring up. A sting of fireworks were shooting into the sky from somewhere near the top of the park. Gracefully. Majestically. Like a real fireworks show.

But there were also un-guaded, squealing fireworks spinning into the air from a can dropped on a street corner, sparklers dripping fire from someone's balcony and a person on the other side of the street who was literally throwing fireworks at people walking by him.

I could see Eyal was PISSED. He walked across the street and yelled at the man. "Do you look before you throw?" he asked, gesturing at his eyes. "You have to LOOK! Don't be an idiot!" The man just laughed and took a sip of his beer. Eyal crossed back towards me and we discussed what an idiot this dude was.

Crazy man aside, I was once again taken aback by how democratic the experience of New Years is here. Once I found a safe place to watch all the mayhem, there was something inspiring about it. Every group of friends, celebrating New Years with their own fireworks, their own parties. Nobody was watching the ball drop on some TV, or fighting for space to watch a massive, corporate display of explosives. It was barely-controlled mayhem, sure, but at least it was on a human scale. 

It was only my second night back in Berlin, but I was already happy to be home. "What an insane city," I remarked to Eyal, with a wild grin on my face. Yeah, I was glad to be back.