No man's land

I found no man’s land, cropped into an even rectangle and placed in the middle of a thriving city. I was reminded of the rice patties in Vietnam, yet this was unlike any countryside I have seen. Wet grass drowned under the constant bombardment of sprinkler water. Empty bottles, black and white garbage bags, ripped cardboard boxes, cigarette butts, and what seemed like all of Berlin’s garbage was scattered around this green land. On each side sits fancy glass buildings, one of which had a lattice structure, strong and flimsy. Strong because it was grounded and build high. Flimsy because with one rock thrown, a hit and a simple crack to the glass could give rise to a domino effect shatter. Parked all along the front of this building were slick black cars, Mercedes Benz and BMW. I half expected men in pitched black sunglasses with clear, slinky-like plastic wires sneaking out of their necks and connecting to their ears. A gunshot and everyone dropped to the ground. A battle ensued. Loud bangs filled the place as fast spinning bullets cut through air and drilled through metal, human tissues, and cemented ground. Yes, I only half expected that. I actually saw newly paved streets full of speedy cars, sweaty joggers, and energetic bikers. It seemed surreal. This was not the Berlin I knew, but what did I know?

Before I came here, I had pictured rare colorful flowers, majestic fountains, and a grand pathway to large front doors guarded by men with stern faces and stiff bodies. I expected a building, centuries old with gothic style architecture. I wanted impact. A bam! There it is, in all of its glory and might. I got no man’s land. By now, I should have learned not to expect, but to experience. Somehow, this place did not seem like it should fit that sentiment. Pupils dilated and sympathetic nervous system kicked in. I am ready for action. No, not something I felt being there at that place.