One American Youth, One Cute Russian, a Beggar, and a Llama
Ian and Dima’s date: Moon over Berlin, B1C10
Juliette and Ian strolled slowly down the Kudamm with Dima after meeting him at the U-Bahn station. The boulevard was busy, but not jammed with foot traffic like on a weekday. Ian pointed out the bombed-out remains of the Kaiser Wilhelm Memorial Church.
“They leave it like that on purpose,” he told Dima, who was staring up at the gutted gothic ruin, “to remind everybody how awful war is.”
“But what’s that white building with the strange holes?”
Juliette laughed, happy to play tour guide. “Believe it or not, that’s the bell tower for the new church. Berliners call it ‘The Lipstick.’ All those holes let the sound out. But they remind me of distorted portholes on a ship.”
She pointed to the left. “See that round building all close to the ground? That’s actually the new church.” She turned to Ian. “What did Mark say they call it?”
“The Powder Puff,” he said. “Supposed to look like a woman’s compact.”
“People really go?” Dima asked. “To church? I’ve never been in one.”
Ian shrugged. “I guess. Not very many. German people, or Berliners anyway, they mostly don’t go to church. But they keep Sunday as…
