Blog – The Dancing Days of Old

 

I left for Berlin Germany when I had just barely turned 18. I had no idea what I was in for. I just knew (all the way to my toes) that this was the path and that I needed to leap on it before the opportunity disappeared into the ethers.

Even then I knew that doors open, then close, and can completely disappear.
Real opportunities are always shrouded in the unknown. This moment was something very important for me to try to do and leap out of New York City and into the great artistic world of Europe.

My father had a phrase when he retired. It was, “Happiness is Dallas in my rearview mirror!”

I felt that way … but did not have those exact words at that time.

Those moments that compel us are those moments when the planet Pluto is in charge. Pluto compels us to do things that seem to others crazy, bizarre, risky, and scary.
But one cannot let those who have never learned to face their own fears, dictate the actions of those with greater courage.

I had only a letter of intent from the Berlin Ballet. I did not have a signed contract.
It was going to be a huge leap of faith.
I did not speak German (I had taken the ballet language of French in school), I had no place to live, no apartment set, and no clue as to what I was in for.
We were still in the Cold War with Russian in 1978. Berlin was a walled off city, caught between the Russians (in East Berlin) and the Allies (France, England, and the US) in the western part of the city.

Berlin is at the same longitude at Winnipeg Canada.
I did not realize that at the time. That meant it was going to be cold. Very…. Cold!

Coming from Texas I knew it was further north and I knew I needed a great coat to stay warm (which I bought before I left). But I was clueless as to the fact that Berlin is on the plain between the cold, icy waters of the North Sea, the winds from Siberia, and the warm air that came from the Mediterranean Sea and over the Alps.

I did not fully grasp that the confluence of such massive weather patterns would make it beautifully green but also very … very wet.

In German, I learned there were eight different words for snow. Seven different words for types of hail, six different words for sleet, and six different words for drizzle. You know you are going to another climate when you realize that.

I decided to make a joke of those facts and just called it, “Scheiss Wetter.” Or Shit Weather!

One has to learn to laugh, or one will instead become despondent, depressed, and lost in the circumstances in which we find ourselves.

I am sure the Native Peoples of Canada and Alaska probably have even more types of descriptions of the various qualities of snow and ice.
I got to Berlin the end of September 1978. It was Oktoberfest, and all the hotels were taken, and all the pensions were full. Also, there was a terrible housing crisis and riots happening over those “swatting” on properties. I arrived at a very controversial moment in time for an “Auslander”.

I arrive at the airport after the worst flight of my life. I did not realize that part of the agreement that the Allies had with Russia, was that to fly in, they would not fly up high but stay at a lower altitude. (Which was in missile firing distance)
That placed us in the very bumpy air and only the best WWII US pilots flew there. They were all the ones that flew during the Berlin Blockade (1948-1949). I had to laugh because most of them had grey hair by that time and spoke with either a southern US accent or a Mid-West accent.

I am so grateful to their skill at landing us on the very short runway of Tegel Airport. I had never been so aware that I could … probably would … barf …as that first flight into Berlin began.
The truth was that all flights were that bumpy. It was amazing that the plane stayed in one piece. The buffeting of the wind currents on the plains of East Germany were shocking.

After landing, and thanking God for allowing me to arrive safely, I went to the Tourist Bureau to see what accommodations were available to me.

It never dawned on this “American girl” that getting a hotel, or an apartment would be next to impossible.

I find myself in a room with a hundred Turkish looking men who were all smoking very strong tobacco cigarettes, while I am filling out paperwork in German using my German-English Dictionary. Most of these men, all tried to talk to me in multiple languages, trying to see which language I recognized or responded to.
They were all looking for anyone who they could marry and get another passport other than the Turkish one they had.

The Squatters Riots at that time were happening because after the war there were no German men who could help rebuild. Right after the war, the German women rebuilt the town from the rubble, brick by brick.

I learned just how amazingly strong the German women really were over time and after understanding their history and what horrors they had gone through, I discovered that they had very good reasons to be gruff and irritable.

On one line of the paperwork, they asked my religion.

I was raised Catholic and went for a time to parochial school. So, I put down Catholic.

Much to my shock and gratitude, suddenly, my name was the first called!

Seems they had a room at St. Hildegard’s Krankenhaus (or hospital) in the nunnery with the nuns that was available.
This place was four U-Bahn (or subway) stops from the Theater. Which sounded close but when I went to walk it, I discovered that it was over an hour to walk from the theater to my room at the hospital.
I was grateful for a place to just lay my head.

Exhausted I took a cab there and the Mother Superior met me at the door, as she was the only one who spoke English.
She took me into a cold, dark, very quiet wing of the nunnery and showed me to my room that had a bed, a chair, and a table. There was one overhead light and a cross above the bed. The bathroom was down at the end of the hallway, and I was to share it with the 20 other nuns that worked there.

She explained that a nun would be in charge of feeding me breakfast in the morning and asked me what times I wanted breakfast because the nuns were up at 5 am for early mass at 6 am. They would be using the bathroom at that time and would be in mass from 6 am to 7 am.

I explained that I did not need to be at the theater till 9 am, so eating for me at 8 am would be fine.

Too this day I bless all those nuns that took such good care of me. Without them I would have been so lost.

The cost for staying there was 15 Deutschemarks a day and that included breakfast. At that time, it was about 2 Deutschemarks to one US Dollar. So, it was about 7.5 US Dollars a day.
That was an amazing deal.

That first morning, I went to breakfast only to discover that the sweet nun had literally created a German breakfast feast. Slices of rye bread, various cheeses, various deli meats, soft boiled eggs, coffee, cream, and fresh orange juice. As a dancer it was way too much food. But from that day for the next 3 months, it was consistent.
When I tried to tell them that I did not need that much food, they would smile and say, “Du bist zu dünn.” Meaning “You are too thin!”
I thought, I am a ballerina, I am supposed to be thin!

It took me those three months to find an apartment in Berlin because owners did not want to rent to foreigners.

So that was my introduction to Berlin. The nuns taught me German by pointing to an object and saying its name. They taught me how to navigate the subway system and to buy a ticket. They always waited for me at the door after performances because I would get home late.

They were always sweet, kind, quiet, and accommodating.

They liked me so much that they asked me if I wanted to be a nun and stay. I understood what they were saying, as I was very quiet and respectful. I could see that in past lives … I had obviously been a nun. Because being with them was so easy.
But I also knew that in this life I had signed up for something else.

I could see how easy it would be to fall into a nun’s life again. It was peaceful, supportive, kind-spirited and a gentle life.

But another life awaited me. And it had only just begun.

~Suzanne Wagner~