All I can say about day three is that we got schooled. We started in East Berlin in a place called Jerusalem Church. This is a house that was owned by a German Jew who died and left it to the country of Israel. Eventually it became a home church. So we sat in a circle in the basement and prayed for the people of East Berlin. It felt like I imagined the Jews must have looked at the time that they were being arrested and deported to camps. It kind of felt that way anyway.
We finally got to experience the pride of Berliners: curry wurst. All I have heard about this German delicacy is that it is a staple of all who live in this city. Filled with culinary anticipation, we went to a sidewalk café and ordered some. What a disappointment. Imagine a sausage that has the consistency of a Great Value brat from Wal-Mart. Than see it getting cut into pieces, smothered with ketchup, and sprinkled with a little curry powder. Totally underwhelming! We actually had better sausages at the Black Forest café on Northwest Highway in Dallas.
The two stories I want to leave you with in the limited time I have are as follows:
1. While we were at a square a man on crutches came up to me and said that he had some demons that needed to be cast. He was a German who spoke fairly good English because he spent some time at a Bible college in Tulsa, Oklahoma. He talked a lot about being scammed by so called ministers in America who were only out for his money. He is a man of serious means. Unfortunately, we were getting ready to leave to head over to the infamous Alexanderplatz. So we asked him if he wanted to go with us. He did. Ask us for details because this story is going to absolutely knock your socks off. All I can say is that the story ended with a mime being chased, a financial prayer being answered, Italians being astounded, and shouting in the square. This was the first series of shouts in the square. The second was of a different nature soon after.
2. There are no words I can write about the punk culture in Alexanderplatz that you will believe, so I won’t even try. Unfortunately our notoriously slow Internet connection won’t let ius upload pictures or any of the hours of amazing video footage we have shot. I’ll try to get to an Internet café soon and get ‘er done. But we spent some time getting right smack in the middle of their world. And to steal a line “it was the best of times and the worst of times”. It ended with getting spit on, doused in beer, pelted with any object that they could throw, and chased from the square. Alexanderplatz is a definite stronghold of a Reich that is still very much alive; at least spiritually anyway. But I firmly believe that before we leave here this Reich will fall. It is only day there after all.
To all of you who supported this trip financially, know that you have invested your money wisely. Time and bad Internet keep me from telling tales of how amazing this trip has been so far. And those who wish you had contributed, it’s not too late. You are being a part of something that I haven’t dreamed possible. It seems like we have been here for years. And there is still 10 days to go. Game face on and marching toward the goal.