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Lost in Berlin

Lost in Berlin

Deiter turned Ben on to German beer. They were having an amazing time. Until Ben got lost with no money and no map...


"What's your name?"


"What are you doing in Europe?"

"I'm an exchange student in Finland."

"Really, do you live in the dorms?"


"If I come to Finland can I crash on your floor?"

"Sure. Why not?"

"I was wondering, do you have any idea why so many Scandinavians dye their hair black?"


"It's the craziest thing, isn't it?"

"I guess so."

"What was your name again?"

Ben was the veteran traveler. He never paid for a room.

Ben's luck ran out in Madrid. He had to pay $20 for a closet in a youth hostel without any windows. Desperate for company, he sat on a couch in the hostel's common area. Others began to filter in.

That's where he met Deiter, a traveler from Berlin. Deiter was decked out in black from head to toe. His thinning blond hair was slicked back and a pair of thin, wire-rimmed glasses were perched on the end of his nose. Deiter looked every bit the mid-80's pre-techno Euro-hipster.

Deiter spent the evening charming a group of Swedish women staying in the hostel. He wasn't successful. Ben felt sorry for him.

"If I come to Berlin can I crash in your apartment?" Ben asked.


A few months later, Ben was at Deiter's place in the former East Berlin. The place was a squat in an old communist housing project. The area was a magnet for semi-artsy types.

They hung out for nights on end. They talked politics and art. They smoked extra-light cigarettes. Deiter turned Ben on to German beer. They were having an amazing time.

Ben felt a need to explore the urban wilderness of Berlin.

Ben felt a need to explore the urban wilderness of Berlin. He bought a bottle of water and a sandwich, stuffed them into his backpack and wandered off down side streets and back alleys. He walked around for a few hours. Everything looked basically the same.

"I think I'm lost," he said to himself looking up at the rows and rows of East German architecture. Unfazed, he looked in his backpack for the not-so-neatly-folded map from the tourist information center he'd stuffed into a pocket. Gone.

He looked again through his pockets and fumbled through some papers. The map was nowhere to be found.

"No big deal," he thought to himself. "I've been lost before. I'll just wander around until I see a place I recognize."

He wandered on for another half-an-hour. Nothing looked familiar. Hungry, he looked in his bag for the sandwich and water. Gone. "I knew my bag felt lighter," he thought. "I guess it fell out while I was looking for the map."

He tried to retrace his steps. He got more lost.

The sun went down and the streetlights came up. Most of the stores were closed. Ben was starving and thirsty. He spied out of the corner of his eye a lone Coke machine next to a beat looking warehouse. He looked for his money. He fumbled through his pockets for some change. Nothing.

"This isn't funny anymore," he said to himself.

It was dark. He sensed he'd wandered into a type of industrial center. Every door was locked. Every building seemed shut down. There wasn't a person in sight.

He nervously picked up his pace.

"A Jew lost in Berlin," he thought to himself. "Great."

Hours passed. It was after midnight. Ben was exhausted and hungry. A cab passed. He flagged it down.

"Can you help me? I'm lost," he said to the cabby.

"I not speaking the English," the cabby answered.

"Bitte ... sprechen zie."

The cabby gave him a look that said, "Get in, just give me the address."

He pulled his pockets inside out in what seemed to him the universal gesture to indicate he was broke.

"I don't have any money," he said pulling his pockets inside out in what seemed to him the universal gesture to indicate he was broke.

The cabby pulled off. Ben was disgusted. He sat on a bench and dozed off in exhaustion.

The heat of the morning sun woke Ben up from his slumber. "My neck is killing me," he said out loud, grabbing the back of his head. "I feel like I've slept on a bench all night."

Determined and with a renewed vigor he picked a direction and walked. He walked for hours. He finally came to a place that looked vaguely familiar. He walked a bit more and found himself on the main drag of Deiter's trendy neighborhood. He spotted the coffeehouse where he and Deiter had spent hours immersed in pretentious conversation. He made his way to Deiter's apartment relieved.

Something seemed wrong. He walked down the hall to Deiter's apartment and found the door ripped off its hinges. A white swastika had been painted on it. He walked in.

The place was a mess. Every drawer had been overturned and dumped on the floor. Broken glass was everywhere. Deiter was lying in a corner unconscious, beaten to a pulp.

Deiter was lying in a corner unconscious, beaten to a pulp.

Ben spent the next few days visiting Deiter in the hospital. He'd found out from a neighbor what had happened. "Skinheads from the slums down the road occasionally come into the neighborhood looking for Jews and gays," the neighbor told him. "They'd somehow heard of a tourist staying with Deiter and came by in the night to cause trouble."

Staring at Deiter's sleeping body, Ben became aware of the miracle that had happened to him. "That should have been me," he thought.

He thought through the craziness of what had transpired. "If I hadn't gotten lost, I would have been there at Deiter's. If I had found my map, if I hadn't lost my money, I would have made my way back that night. If I had had something to eat, maybe I would have had the strength to get back. It's amazing, what seemed at the time to be such a drag, turned out to be the best thing that could have happened to me."

Ben came to the profound realization that things aren't always what they seem. Sometimes life's biggest disappointments are really blessings in disguise.

He went back to Deiter's place to pack up his stuff. He needed to get moving. "Maybe I'll go to Prague," he thought. "I hear they sell beer there for less than a buck."

He went to the train station to catch the 9:15 to Prague. Two hours later he was still waiting for it to come.

"No big deal," he thought. "Things could be worse."

September 9, 2000

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Visitor Comments: 6

(6) spencer shears, May 14, 2016 6:17 PM


'Ben' doesn't evince even a shred of human compassion for 'Dieter'. He is totally self-absorbed with his own little 'Me-ness', like he is so special to G-d? Where is the compassion for a friend who took him in and gave him hospitality? Not a very Jewish way to behave, Benjamin, thinking only of yourself as you set off on your next 'adventure'! But the Almighty remembers.

(5) Lia, February 9, 2015 4:15 AM

rather a selfish outlook

If this story is true -- then where is the compassion for poor Dieter who put Ben up for free and was repaid by being beaten for hospitality to a Jew. I believe that we are saved from much trouble by things that seem to derail us, but in my humble opinion there ae better illustrations.

(4) Anonymous, August 26, 2007 11:08 AM

Very Fictional

I live in (East) Berlin for the past 10 years now and am very active in the Jewish Community. I have not once heard of anything like that - or even remotely similar - happening. The (Neo-)Nazis are a bunch of cowards. They don't come to the trendy neighborhoods where they know they'll get beaten up; and they don't do research about where Jewish or foreign visitors stay - they just beat an unfortunate black person who happened to find himself in "their" areas. Statistically, there is more reported hate-crime in California than in Germany; and much of the hate-crime against Jews in Germany is committed by Arabs.

If the story is fictional, it is not only "very" fictional, but also reproduces stereotypes about the Germans, one of the only nations I know that discusses racism and antisemitism on a daily basis.

If this story is true, which I doubt - proofs please.

(3) Louis Hurvitz, September 26, 2000 12:00 AM

It hurts that Berlin is being revisited by the recent past.

I lived in West Berlin from 1981 to 1984. The Wall was still up and the city flourished. East Berlin, on the other hand, was run-down and depressing. I ate Kosher meals at the West Berlin "Gemeinde" (Jewish Community Center). On Yom Tov, I attended services at the PestalozziStrasse Synagogue, a Kristalnacht-destroyed sanctuary which was restored after the war. During my years in Berlin, I noticed very little in the way of anti-Semitic incidents. Unfortunately, after reunification, it appears as if the old problems are resurfacing. I'm not naive enough to believe that these anti-"foreigner" feelings didn't exist during the years leading up to the reunification. However, they are now much more pronounced and overt. I'm very sad. A great city should not be tainted by such stupidity. But, the German leadership must deal with this issue, or it will, once again, go down that awful path. As a Jew and as a freedom-loving individual, I hope that this great city will deal expeditiously and positively with the issue.

(2) Anonymous, September 11, 2000 12:00 AM


it's similar to R. Akiva's gam zu le tova dictum and I quite enjoyed the story.
Thank you for placing it on the site; I hope others take the time to read it.

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