Karl Mag's (Or, Welcome to Chemnitz)

I live in the ghetto of Chemnitz.

And no, I'm not joking.

The area I live in - the Sonnenberg (literally "Sun Mountain") - is the sketchy and, as one German I know put it, "dangerous" part of town.

Of course, when Germans say that an area is "dangerous" to live in, they forget they're talking to someone who was born and raised on Chicago news and who has a totally different view of what a "dangerous neighborhood" means.

Dangerous to me means people are getting shot and murdered on their front porch or sidewalk.

Dangerous to Germans means vacant houses and stores filled with foreigners and poor people.

Luckily for the Germans, I am both a foreigner and poor, so I totally qualify to live in the German ghetto!

I told you I lived in the shady part of town.

But seriously, this is my building. 

Anyway, from the outside, it looks like I live in a condemned building, complete with boarded up windows, urban decay, and graffiti.

On the inside, however, my apartment is pretty nice complete with newly refurbished floors, windows, and appliances.  In fact, it's really nice.  Except for the whole no blinds thing.  (Sorry neighbors.)

I actually really like living on the Sonnenberg. Sure, it's a little creepy and vacant at night, but it's actually trying to shape up and become the "hipster" neighborhood.  (Case in point, we have a vegan cafe around the corner from me.  This baffles me, since typical German cuisine thrives on deep-fried meats and dairy.)

Anyway, the Sonnenberg was the the only part of Chemnitz that escaped the British bombing of WWII (just a few days before its neighbor, Dresden, was reduced to rubble) and the buildings here, although desperately in need of some TLC, still have the old facades from Chemnitz's glory days.

Across the street from me.

Back in the day, Chemnitz was a huge center for textile production and its sister city was Manchester, England.  The town's population exploded, workers flooded in from the fields to work in the factories, and the mill owners got rich quick.

Mehr Porridge bitte?

Dickensian Orphans aside, Chemnitz was a cool place to be back in the day.  (Well, if you weren't a worker, inhaling cotton fluff into your lungs, but I digress.)

Then WWII happened. 

And then the Soviets happened.

Instead of rebuilding the destroyed city and factories, like they did in Dresden, the Soviets gleefully clapped their hands together, realizing that a city with a large working population would make the perfect model for their ideal Soviet city.

Everything in the downtown, save the city hall and the Jakobskirche, were rebuilt and refashioned into the Soviet ideal.  Long, wide avenues built parallel to each other, perfect for Party parades, and stiff cement buildings were put into place.  

Inspired architectural choices.

Because nothing says "Celebrate the Working Man"
quite like a monstrous blob sculpture.

Even the crosswalk signs went through a remodel.

Although the Ampelmann is now a popular store in Berlin,
this is actually the happy Soviet worker going to work
and the happy Soviet worker appropriately
stopping at the crosswalk.

Oh, and Chemnitz, got a new name: Karl-Marx-Stadt.

Despite the fact that Karl Marx never lived, let alone, visited Chemnitz.

And they got this guy too:

A wild Karl appears when you least expect him.

His gaze goes right into your soul.

Did I forget to mention that Karl - aka "Der Nischel" (which is Saxon slang for the "The Head" and further proof that the Saxon dialect is crazy since it sounds nothing like the real German word "Kopf") - is a huge statue?

It's freakishly huge.

I wonder who that is?
Oh, that's me.
And Karl.

Although the residents of Chemnitz had the chance after the Wall fell to remove the Nischel and all the other Soviet-inspired art around the city, they decided to keep their bearded buddy around as a testament to their history.

The city was "rebuilt" again in the 90s with the influx of West German investors and the downtown is a bizarre hodgepodge of rebuilt pre-WWII, Soviet, and West German styles.

The old city hall and one of the new shopping malls.

More of city hall

A view down the street to the Jakobkirche

One of the old facades
(It also gets bonus points for being pink.)

Pigeons. The rats of the air.
Also old architecture.

The city convention center with its Soviet-chic style

The "Roter Turm" (Red Tower) is the last remaining piece
of the medieval city wall.  Next to it is the new Roter Turm,
which boasts 3 floors of shopping bliss, plus a movie theater.

I have no idea what this means but hooray for
Soviet art!

One last look at the soul crushing Soviet bloc housing.

Unlike its well-known brothers and sisters, Leipzig and Dresden, Chemnitz has neither the Old World charm, nor the political/historical force to compel tourists to visit.

But on the other hand, Chemnitz is quirky, unique, and always interesting.

I mean, what other city would have a permanent art installation to the fact that its on the same longitude as a large colony of penguins on the South Pole?

Oh, Chemnitz.

All My Love,

Your Humble Blogger

& Simba (Who Has Been Very Absent in These Posts)

PS. Bonus points for you lucky people who realized that the title of this post is a German pun on the name Karl Marx.  The phrase "Karl Mag's" (Karl likes...) is used in lots of advertisements across Chemnitz, and I desperately want a mug with it on there.

PPS.  If you're really cool, which you are since you're reading this Blog, you should like the Blog on Facebook.