Christmas is over!
O Tannenbaum, O Tannenbaum…
I love the word for Christmas tree in German: Tannenbaum. I remember singing the German song that is now a famous Christmas Carol as a child at the German School in London.
We always had a real tree at home when I was little. We would buy a tiny baby plant and it would grow each year and then after lots of watering and loving it would finally grow into a normal-sized tree. It was always placed by the central heating, so it would dry out quickly. Hence the little pine needles would cover the floor, often ruining the carpet underneath it. But it didn’t matter, as long as our home smelt of Christmas.
A few years ago in London I remember we bought a tree that we named ‘Ethel’. We got her from Notting Hill market and we proudly accompanied her on the way home by public transport. She couldn’t fit into the seats, so she stood up straight during the bus and tube rides. People giggled at the bizarre scene as we descended the escalator holding onto our new ‘housemate’. And once Christmas was over, we couldn’t bare to see her leave, so she stayed with us, looking as lovely as ever.
In fact, she was so lovely, that we ended up missing the special rubbish collection date. This meant that she stayed in the sitting room for a few weeks too many. Possibly into February. Maybe even March (ahem). In our area of London you literally have one evening when you can put your tree out on the pavement and the next day the council will come along and take it away for recycling. If you miss it, you have to dispose of the tree yourself. We missed it and so we put poor Ethel in the back garden for a whole year.
The next year we bought ‘Donald’. He was tall and strong and very handsome. He was a keeper. And when the day came to put him onto the pavement to meet his maker, we made sure not to miss the big day. And we thought it would be a perfect opportunity to introduce Donald to Ethel. We brought her out onto the street for collection. She had been lying in the back garden for a year. I will admit that it wasn’t me who carried her there. She was a little worse for wear. A bit slimy and grim. There was actually stuff growing on her and she stank. But we lent her against Donald anyway and they looked very happy together.
Literally ten minutes later we had a little look outside to see how the relationship was unfolding and… she had disappeared.
I kid you not.
We searched up and down the street. She had gone. And she had left Donald standing there. I guess they just weren’t meant to be. We never heard from her again.
This is a true story and I have been reminded again and again of this recently whilst walking the streets of Berlin.
Christmas is now officially over. You cannot walk the streets without that fact being shoved in your face. Everywhere you walk there are rejected Christmas trees scattered all over the pavement. Sometimes four or five trees lie on top of each other. Sometimes they block cycle paths and sometimes even the entire walkway.
Last week I was taking a stroll down the road and a lady smiled at me as I walked past her. It’s not normal for strangers to smile at each other so I was a little taken aback, but I returned her smile nevertheless. About five seconds later I heard her shout Ja! (‘yes!‘) and a man threw a Christmas tree out of the fourth floor window onto the street below, literally where I had just stepped. She gave him a thumbs-up sign and proceeded to move the tree to the side of the pavement, alongside its new friends. I saw this again yesterday. And it is something that happens a lot here in Berlin.
After the Second World War, 70% of Berlin was destroyed. The apartment buildings that remain have no lifts (‘elevators’ for those readers across the pond). The new buildings that were built were done so quickly and without conveniences like lifts. I have yet to find an apartment block with a lift inside.
We live on the fourth floor and I can tell you it’s not much fun walking up and down those stairs when you are carrying nothing, let alone when you are laden down with shopping bags. So it makes sense to just throw out a Christmas tree from a window when you are finished with it. They are a nightmare to carry after all, so why not? If I’m honest, I may be a little bit sad that we didn’t get a tree this year, as I would love to chuck one off our balcony. Next year for sure!
