I’m in a new city with a small group of peers and we go on tours together and it slightly tears at me.

The tear: tourist vs. visitor

I dislike the thought of being a tourist. But I am one, of course. I’m here and I’m surrounded by my brilliant classmates and having people show me around and teach me. I enjoy that. But the thought of being a stereotypical tourist (fanny-packed, passive, wide-eyed, sheep-like) makes me uncomfortable. Why? There’s a certain irrational shame in being an obvious unknowing stranger I guess. I prefer to see myself as the anonymous and shadowy visitor, completely unremarkable, taking everything in silently. Maybe it’s just a jaded city girl thing, though.

Our first group outing brought us from the Brandenberg Tor through the Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe, the Finance building with it’s spooky Nazi doorknobs and cheery Eastern bloc mural, ending at the site of Hitler’s bunker, where he and his wife killed themselves for their honeymoon.

I ended up going on that exact same route maybe a week later, with three other people.

Now it’s time to go alone, I think. Be the invisible visitor.

What stuck to me immediately was the beauty of The Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe. The levels of planes, perfect lines, grays, light glints, all in perfect harmony…

I will return for it, and fill giant pages with it, so that I won’t forget.