When I turned eighteen, I was travelling in Berlin with Dad. He was an economist working for the International Monetary Fund, heading a new project in East Berlin, barely a month after the fall of the Berlin Wall; the reunification of East and West Germany. Together with the new Federal Republic of Germany, Dad, an expert in the area of economic crisis management in politically unstable nations, facilitated in a sustainable short term economic development and restructuring plan during this strange and exciting period in German history.
I must say, it was a rather surreal time to be in Berlin.
The Berlin Wall, which for so many years of has been the dividing line of two very different philosophical ways of life; the possibility that man can and must build a structure to shield himself from those close to him to upkeep his principles, came down. It came down because one ideology proved superior to the other within the tiny vacuum of the human race. It came down perhaps because man saw that he had no choice, saw that there could be a better future. All that now remains, is but a shadow of a symbol.
On the streets, there was a spirit of optimism mixed with uncertainty in the air. The youth carried on their faces a look of hunger and fierce ambition; while the older hung about them a spirit of fatigue, a lingering about their noses; nostalgia of a bygone era. People on the streets walked fast; barely making eye contact. It was an intense and emotionally charged atmosphere.
I had been spending my time with my German tutor Peter. Peter was a chipper, the type of individual, mom used to say, that “never wasted a step.”
“Peter, I want to do something different on my eighteenth birthday. Have you any ideas?”
“Ah, you, my friend, have asked the right person…”
So there I was, on the night of my birthday, inside one of the best techno clubs in Berlin. It was one of the best crowds ever. Every man and woman in the club celebrated themselves and life, with technology, music and dance. I hadn’t even drunk, but was already intoxicated with the spirit of these people. The lights intertwined with music, moving lyrically across the people and the place as if it embodied the mind of a poet. I was infused with a strange but hypnotic energy.
I closed my eyes; my mind went into a trance. I too, started to let my body move with the music. I was smiling to myself while moving. My first dose of adulthood; I was enjoying what I called ‘The Dance of Life.’ Then, my eye caught sight of a cute young lady just several metres from me. She was dancing by herself, in a soft translucent short black dress and a pair of padded black boots, resembling the type you might see on an Eskimo. She was completely at ease, and looked the perfect size for cuddling.
I started dancing again, and soon we were dancing next to each other. I looked at her.
“Hi, what is your name?”
“Olef.”
“Hi, I’m Charles.”
She waved as she smiled and gently turned her back towards me, swaying her body from side to side, like a swan just settling into the water from the land. Her movement was every bit defined and graceful. I was mesmerized. I started to observe her closely. She was fair, had a porcelain smooth oval face, delicate and well-defined features. She had smooth, shiny, soft brown hair staged in a bob style that sat around her face in perfect geometry.
“I am going to Vietnam at the end of the month.”
Her eyes sparkled, as if they were happy for me.
“Come with me to Vietnam.”
I could see her immediately deconstructing and analyzing my question inside her head. She was fascinating. She had an intensity of Berlin.
“Can I have your number?”
She looked at me earnestly, and then looked away on the floor.
“So, you want to come? I mean it!” I was serious, already beginning to figure out ways to let my dad agree to this madness if she said yes.
She shook her head. “I would if I could. But I can’t right now.”
“And why not?”
Tears started rapidly rolling down her porcelain cheeks. She pointed to her heart, and looked straight into my eyes.
“It’s broken because I believe in love. I’ll always believe in love. But still I’ll have to fix this broken heart, or it will never be able to contain this deep love that I know of.”
She kissed me on my cheek, squeezed my hand, and then walked away.
The month ended, I left for Vietnam. I never saw her again. I grew up, and became an economist, just like Dad.
Countless relationships and many years later, I saw Olef on television as a newscaster on CNN International. She was just as beautiful and mystical as she was then. She maintained that distant look in her eyes.
I don’t know why. Even now, I often think about her. I was a young man then, but deep inside I knew that if the event of that night had turned out differently, I would have allowed myself to fall in love with Olef. It wouldn’t have lasted, we were both too young for anything serious and committed. But I was drawn to her. I felt it then and I felt it now. I found it ironic, that just as the Berlin Wall came down, that Berliners like Olef had put her own walls up.
When I tell this story people always ask, how can you miss someone you don’t really know? When we allow our natural feelings to wander free. It is often a dangerous path to tread; that is why people practice so much caution. But if we tread that path and succeed, we are able to become ever more alive, ever more elevated with one another; therein lies logic yet explained. I believe in the possibility of a never-ending supply of love.
I must say, it was a rather surreal time to be in Berlin.
The Berlin Wall, which for so many years of has been the dividing line of two very different philosophical ways of life; the possibility that man can and must build a structure to shield himself from those close to him to upkeep his principles, came down. It came down because one ideology proved superior to the other within the tiny vacuum of the human race. It came down perhaps because man saw that he had no choice, saw that there could be a better future. All that now remains, is but a shadow of a symbol.
On the streets, there was a spirit of optimism mixed with uncertainty in the air. The youth carried on their faces a look of hunger and fierce ambition; while the older hung about them a spirit of fatigue, a lingering about their noses; nostalgia of a bygone era. People on the streets walked fast; barely making eye contact. It was an intense and emotionally charged atmosphere.
I had been spending my time with my German tutor Peter. Peter was a chipper, the type of individual, mom used to say, that “never wasted a step.”
“Peter, I want to do something different on my eighteenth birthday. Have you any ideas?”
“Ah, you, my friend, have asked the right person…”
So there I was, on the night of my birthday, inside one of the best techno clubs in Berlin. It was one of the best crowds ever. Every man and woman in the club celebrated themselves and life, with technology, music and dance. I hadn’t even drunk, but was already intoxicated with the spirit of these people. The lights intertwined with music, moving lyrically across the people and the place as if it embodied the mind of a poet. I was infused with a strange but hypnotic energy.
I closed my eyes; my mind went into a trance. I too, started to let my body move with the music. I was smiling to myself while moving. My first dose of adulthood; I was enjoying what I called ‘The Dance of Life.’ Then, my eye caught sight of a cute young lady just several metres from me. She was dancing by herself, in a soft translucent short black dress and a pair of padded black boots, resembling the type you might see on an Eskimo. She was completely at ease, and looked the perfect size for cuddling.
I started dancing again, and soon we were dancing next to each other. I looked at her.
“Hi, what is your name?”
“Olef.”
“Hi, I’m Charles.”
She waved as she smiled and gently turned her back towards me, swaying her body from side to side, like a swan just settling into the water from the land. Her movement was every bit defined and graceful. I was mesmerized. I started to observe her closely. She was fair, had a porcelain smooth oval face, delicate and well-defined features. She had smooth, shiny, soft brown hair staged in a bob style that sat around her face in perfect geometry.
“I am going to Vietnam at the end of the month.”
Her eyes sparkled, as if they were happy for me.
“Come with me to Vietnam.”
I could see her immediately deconstructing and analyzing my question inside her head. She was fascinating. She had an intensity of Berlin.
“Can I have your number?”
She looked at me earnestly, and then looked away on the floor.
“So, you want to come? I mean it!” I was serious, already beginning to figure out ways to let my dad agree to this madness if she said yes.
She shook her head. “I would if I could. But I can’t right now.”
“And why not?”
Tears started rapidly rolling down her porcelain cheeks. She pointed to her heart, and looked straight into my eyes.
“It’s broken because I believe in love. I’ll always believe in love. But still I’ll have to fix this broken heart, or it will never be able to contain this deep love that I know of.”
She kissed me on my cheek, squeezed my hand, and then walked away.
The month ended, I left for Vietnam. I never saw her again. I grew up, and became an economist, just like Dad.
Countless relationships and many years later, I saw Olef on television as a newscaster on CNN International. She was just as beautiful and mystical as she was then. She maintained that distant look in her eyes.
I don’t know why. Even now, I often think about her. I was a young man then, but deep inside I knew that if the event of that night had turned out differently, I would have allowed myself to fall in love with Olef. It wouldn’t have lasted, we were both too young for anything serious and committed. But I was drawn to her. I felt it then and I felt it now. I found it ironic, that just as the Berlin Wall came down, that Berliners like Olef had put her own walls up.
When I tell this story people always ask, how can you miss someone you don’t really know? When we allow our natural feelings to wander free. It is often a dangerous path to tread; that is why people practice so much caution. But if we tread that path and succeed, we are able to become ever more alive, ever more elevated with one another; therein lies logic yet explained. I believe in the possibility of a never-ending supply of love.
