On the GO in Hamburg

I talked about nostalgia in my last post, but I didn’t actually pay much attention to Pokémon when it was wildly popular 20 years ago. I don’t know any of the characters, or really anything about their world. Now the franchise has had a resurgence through Pokémon Go, and when I saw last week that Germany was the first official launch site in Europe, I thought, why not have a little fun?

Hmm. Looks like I've acquired
two writing partners.

Unlike others seized by Pokémon madness, I did not fall in a pond, discover a corpse, get banned from a zoo, or traipse over sacred memorials in my efforts. In the beginning I did have the same issues with server overloads, meaning the best time for me to search was in the mornings, while most of the U.S. was asleep.

I'm not sure this little guy
understands the usual relationship
between cats and birds.

I’ve seen others here in Hamburg who I suspect are also looking for Pokémon, and the Hamburg police recently issued six “rules” to follow while playing—things that would have been common sense B.P.G. (Before Pokémon Go), e.g., respect special places and private homes, beware of dark and potentially dangerous places, don’t play while riding a bike or driving, etc.

After a week of hunting and capturing these little creatures, I can see how consuming it can be. So here are a few snapshots of Pokémon hanging around Hamburg, and I'm going to go delete this app from my phone before it's too late... ;)

This slightly scary fellow was hanging out, appropriately enough,
near the Uebel und Gefährlich (evil & dangerous) bunker.

Speaking of nature,
I found this interesting
fellow at the Planten
und Blomen park near
downtown.

A good thing about the wetter, cooler weather
in Hamburg: a longer blooming season. I guess that's
what's captured this guy's fancy.

A gold star for the

Rickmer-Rickmers Museum on the Elbe.

I know the top of the Elbphilharmonie 

looks a bit like an aquarium,

but this little lady is out of luck.

Able to cruise around the Alster lakes under its own power...

...taking the luxury cruise option

Hurray! The Speicherstadt is one of
my favorite parts of the city, too!

I found this literal fish-out-of-water
on my afternoon bus ride.

Enjoying a nice day at the Rathaus

Oh, the sights you see along the infamous Reeperbahn!

This big-eyed, whatever-it-is was near
the entrance to St. Michaelis.

I'm pretty sure this perch above
the Autobahn is ill-advised.

The Art of the Brick

There seems to be a lot of nostalgia in the air right now--from Pokemon Go, to Netflix's new 80s hit, to the 60s-themed party festival in Hamburg this weekend. Maybe it's that need for a security blanket in an ever-uncertain world.

In the exhibit gift shop

I got my own dose of nostalgia yesterday, when Larry and I went to The Art of the Brick. Normally I don't post about the individual exhibits I see, but I wanted to share this one because it was so exceptional.

The artist, Nathan Sawaya, is a former lawyer who creates his work using...LEGO bricks!

I'm not even sure how many hours my sister and I logged over the years playing with our LEGO sets, but Sawaya's work is inspirational and a challenge to look at things--even the most familiar things--in a new way.

If you get the chance to see this exhibit, go! Here are just a few of my picks from the show:

I think we can all relate to this at one time or another

Larry's just chillin' with a new friend

Sawaya's most well-known piece, "Yellow"

"Hands" conveys his nightmare
as an artist--losing the source
of his expression

I loved "The Writer" because to me, it
represents the fear and struggle around
getting words to MOVE

"Despair" reminded me of the statue at St. Nikolai

"The Boy" was my favorite sculpture. The emotion he's able to convey here is amazing.

Stranger in a Not-So-Strange Landscape

I wanted to continue my post-cruise buzz with a fun follow-up post, but the world I know right now seems less than fun.

For every story about immigrants and refugees finding common ground through volunteer work or support of national soccer teams, there are stories about racist public comments and social media posts, Nazi marches in the streets of Sweden, physical assaults on non-whites in the wake of the Brexit, and mind-boggling restrictions by the Danish government on people who marry non-Danes.

The refugee crisis has awoken a barely dormant beast. Insecurity and fear have taken root on a continental scale, and it seems just a matter of time before we reach a tipping point.

What happens if we enter an endless loop of unrest leading to violence leading to refugee emigrations? What happens when the dead soils and rising seas of our damaged environment force even more people into flight?

Over in the U.S., we have an African American president, but 400 years of racial history that periodically bubbles up to a boil. These days, we seem to be a scant few degrees away from scalding.

Right now I feel far from home, but not far at all from a climate where human wholeheartedness is battling ignorance and intolerance. Before sinking into despair, I ran across this article about BLM solidarity demonstrations here in Europe.

Despite the deaths that have brought us to this point, it was refreshing to hear about more people who remember that we all are, in fact, people first, and the labels and boxes and associated prejudices we have for each other mean nothing in the face of that bigger picture.

If we choose to see it.

I thought of two outings I made early last week. The first was to the site of two shipwrecks. In light of recent events, those shipwrecks are, to me, symbols of the beautiful fragility of what we can achieve and how quickly it can be taken from us.

My second outing was to the Ohlsdorf section of Hamburg, home to the largest park cemetery in the world. Walking the grounds, I noticed a difference: the gravestones read “Here rests…” rather than “Here lies…”

It was a reminder that we live our lives—and perhaps we struggle—but then we enjoy peace. The question I have now is why we choose the struggle and the strife in life.

None of us are guaranteed to have what we have forever. None of us can say with certainty that we will never be scared, hungry, stripped of our possessions, or staring down the barrel of a gun.

Maybe, instead of focusing on our differences and what we can gain for ourselves, we can work together on finding a common understanding and some peace--before we're laid to rest.