Yesterday I touched shrapnel scars on a former Jewish hospital. All over Berlin, there are buildings that are still partially unrepaired from 1945. Of course, the number of buildings that have been renovated is really astounding, but in East Berlin, where I'm staying, they're still in the process of repairing buildings that have been falling apart since the Soviets took over. It's a city in a state of rapid change. Despite the cosmetic damage, most of the old apartments and residential buildings are still intact. Many of them have been renovated, patched up, and given a new coat of paint. The beautiful thing is, though, that between all these repaired buildings you can still find places with broken out windows and chunks of plaster falling off the walls. Graffiti covers everything. There are independent clothing shops that don't feel like boutiques, and there are kids playing happily in old Soviet-era parks. It looks like a slum, but it doesn't feel like it. It doesn't feel dangerous. It's just normal to have crumbling buildings and graffiti here. I love it.

I don't think I can put this place in to writing very well, but when I get back home ask me about it. I'm absolutely floored and I'm so, so glad I got to come here while there is still evidence of East Berlin's existence.