I studied at the University of Bonn (Rheinische Friedrich-Wilhelms-Universitaet) for 2/3 of my junior year. It was a great experience in so many ways. My girlfriend Elke’s grandparents and aunt lived in Bonn and I became very close to them, eating Sunday Mittagessen (midday meal) with them almost every week. I was also able to visit several of Elke’s family friends who lived in cities nearby.
Elke’s parents had left Germany just before her birth in 1954. Her father had been a Luftwaffe pilot during the war and was fortunate to have survived. He then completed a doctorate in physics and was recruited by Lockheed to come to the US. They retained most of their German customs. Visiting them had made a big impact on me, inspiring me to energetically pursue mastery of the German language.
They also had friends who had remained in East Germany. In January of 1975 the foreign exchange student group (primarily American and French students) at Bonn had a week-long field trip to Berlin. I took that opportunity to contact one of those friends who lived in East Berlin and they invited me to visit them and share dinner one evening.
I had already crossed over into East Berlin a couple times with the other students. The Ostzone (east zone) held a fascination for us. It was dramatically different – drab and colorless, with an impressive number of humorless police roaming the streets. But it was also somehow intriguing in its austerity.
I traveled on the S-Bahn past the border control and out beyond the East Berlin city limits into the suburbs where the family lived. I found the house, situated in a fairly nice neighborhood with well-tended landscaping and window flower pots, and rang the bell. From within I heard a child cry out “Es ist der Ami” (it’s the American!). It struck me that the children had probably never met an American.
The family had a boy and a girl, ages 11 and 8. They greeted me happily at the door along with the mother. After introductions we all sat together and talked about our worlds. The kids were especially curious and very friendly. They were very charming and cute.
As the time approached for the father to arrive home, the mother moved to the kitchen to prepare the meal. The kids showed me their toys and we watched West German cartoons – apparently the East German ones were boring (probably too pedantic and moralizing).
The little boy ran off to do some things and the little girl showed me her stamp collection. She had divided the collection into capitalist countries and socialist countries. Interestingly, Yugoslavia was placed in the capitalist group. As we finished looking through the book, she moved closer to me and said conspiratorially, “Weiss Du, Ich bin nicht so sehr Kommunist” (you know, I’m not all that communist). That knocked me out! I understood that she was trying to endear herself to this very intriguing stranger from another world and I was totally charmed.
The father arrived and he was also very welcoming and outgoing. We all sat down again to talk and we had some before-dinner drinks and appetizers that all came from the Eastern bloc. I was fascinated!
Both of the parents were chemists, perhaps even with doctorates, and worked in some sort of a chemical plant. They were happy with their work. As the alcohol took effect, we began to explore some of the differences between my world and theirs, and this continued through the dinner and late into the evening.
The meal was excellent, as almost all family meals were in my time in Germany. The parents spoke some English but preferred speaking in German, and this also allowed the kids to participate until they had to go to bed. I hugged them and felt very sad, knowing that I would probably never see them again.
Once the kids were gone, we began speaking even more candidly. They were proud of the accomplishments of their nation, especially in providing more equal opportunities and reducing inequality. No one was homeless, there was little crime. But they confessed to being very frustrated with the lack of freedom to express their thoughts and to travel. They were not overly impressed with the consumer society of the west, but they were eager for the DDR to continue to improve living standards.
The evening I spent with them profoundly moved me. We shared our thoughts honestly and with as little prejudice as possible in people of two completely different societies. I found them incredibly warm and compelling and was very sad when the time came for my departure.
It was mandatory to get back over the border before midnight. I’m not sure what would have happened if I were late, but I did not want to find out. The father walked me to the S-Bahn. As we neared the station, he asked me to be careful talking about our discussions with other people. I understood and promised to do so. It had been a night I will never forget.
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