Subject: Many East Germans Find That There Is No Place Like Home Date: Published: 12/8/89 (230 lines) Source: Wall Street Journal. Copyright Dow Jones & Co. Inc. Many East Germans Find That There Is No Place Like Home --- Emigres to the West Miss The Subsidized Life Style And Loafing on the Job ---- By Jane Mayer Staff Reporter of The Wall Street Journal WEST BERLIN -- In America, the Beach Boys may still wish all women could be California girls, but here in West Germany, there's another romantic ideal: "Ost Frauen," -- East German women. "They are the best lovers," proclaims Martin Ahrends, the author of four books comparing East and West Germany, and a former citizen of the German Democratic Republic who emigrated in 1984 to the Western city of Hamburg. "East women are better," he asserts, "because they are more romantic, less emancipated, and less competitive. They are also less worn out, because they are less absorbed by their work." It hardly seems possible that anyone could be nostalgic about so unlovely a country as modern East Germany. But as the Communist government dissolves before its citizens' eyes, each day bringing new details of corruption by former leaders, East Germans are reassessing their national identity. Virtually no one mourns the dictatorship's collapse, which now finds former leader Erich Honecker under house arrest, his hand-picked successor Egon Krenz without a job, and the army nervously on guard against attacks by angry citizens. But as the possibility of reunification with the West grows, many East Germans are realizing with a shock that they are overthrowing not only a government, but a culture. That there is such a thing as a distinctly East German culture may sound odd to some. For many years, Germans, in the West anyway, have proclaimed they are one identical people, unjustly divided. But after decades of forced separation, which left the two sides laboring under completely contrary systems of government, Germans in both East and West are now discovering some interesting differences. While the West is much more "Americanized," says West Berlin culture writer Eva Stern, "the East is much more like old Germany." In fact, in some ways it seems lost in a time warp, not only because its people still heat with noxious brown coal and think of a telephone as a luxury, but also because such modern phenomena as feminism, consumerism, careerism and AIDS are just arriving. Peter Schneider, a West Berliner who wrote a widely-read novel about the two cultures, "The Wall Jumper," recently went so far as to write, "It sometimes seems to me as though the Wall is the only thing that still connects the two Germanys." Clearly, as more East Germans visit the West -- some 11 million visas have been issued since the Berlin Wall was opened Nov. 9 -- this culture clash is becoming more apparent. Take child care. The East has kindergarten programs allowing about 90% of mothers to work. In contrast, the kindergartens in West Germany are oversubscribed. Elke Guenter, a theater costume designer in East Berlin and the unmarried mother of two, welcomes the political change in her country, but quickly adds, "We live well. We have enough to eat, we have schools for our children, and a place to live." She says she is "afraid now that our economy is opening up to the West that we will lose these things." Speaking from his experience, Mr. Ahrends adds, "In the East, there is always someone taking care of you. It's like an extended childhood. In the West, self-reliance is expected. You are forced to grow up." Not all East Germans hunger for the opportunity to break free and "grow up," even though they grumble over having been denied fundamental liberties for years. Perhaps more ominous for the future of the Eastern half of Germany, many of those who are staying behind are doing so because they don't have the confidence or drive to compete in the West, a place they call an "elbows out" society. Many believe, not necessarily accurately, that they get better state-supplied benefits in the welfare society of the East. For many, "it's a difficult adjustment in the West," says Delia Guessefeld, a West Berliner who is married to an East German. "You can get comfortable in a dictatorship. You don't have to think for yourself. Freedom," she concludes, "is exhausting." The life of Barbara Ruth, an East German art historian, stands as testimony to the lure the East holds for some. "You have a secret feeling of security here, of being cared for," she says, huddled over coffee in her three-room apartment, a formerly grand, prewar residence that has been carved up to provide extra storage space. "It is less cutthroat here." In her own case, she has a prestigious job writing for and editing the country's only art journal. She is paid 800 East German marks a month ($448 at the official conversion rate, but only $45 at the more pervasive, black market rate) -- about the same as a top factory worker -- and her medical benefits are provided by the state. Her apartment, chilly and cramped though it is, costs her only 60 marks a month. Bread, subsidized by the government, costs five pfennigs, less than a U. S. penny. Mrs. Ruth acknowledges that stifling political restraints have existed under the Communist government. Her ex-husband, a doctor from whom she was divorced some years ago, was declared a "security risk" because he pushed for reform. The top editor of her art magazine is required to be a member of the ruling Communist Party, and although there is no formal censorship, she notes, "the scissors are in his head." Worse, she says, the East German art world is controlled by the state. Would-be artists who aren't accepted by the state-run union are barred from selling their works. Yet despite all of this, Mrs. Ruth has thought hard about leaving for the West, and has decided to stay. "The system of government changes your character," she says. Several of her friends, as well as her former husband, have emigrated to the West. "Many miss the warmth and the feeling of being together under difficult circumstances here," she maintains. They also miss the low-key work life. "Dinners in West Germany end at 11:30, so everyone can go home and be in the office the next morning," she says. "Here, people are just getting comfortable then. They stay out much later, and they drink much more. It's really not so important to be at the office the next day. There's just not so much reason to be well-behaved, because there's no one to impress." In contrast, the week after the Berlin Wall opened, she attended an art-history symposium in West Germany. After observing the trench warfare of Western academic politics, she said she was relieved to get back under the protective "cheese glass" of her guaranteed job. "It's nice to settle here, and look out at the rest of the world from this shelter," she concludes. "Now that we can travel, it's quite ideal." Jurgan Zeisler, a 25-year-old graduate student at Humboldt University in his last year of training to become an English teacher, has probably more reasons to leave East Germany than most. But he is also staying home rather than braving the culture clash in the West. Mr. Zeisler, who is homosexual, has had to endure the strictures of both an intolerant society and a prying government which, like Stalin, holds that homosexuality is a product of capitalist corruption. Until the last few weeks, the state banned most books on homosexuality. Just recently, the first film about homosexuality was allowed to play in East Berlin. And even now, there are only a handful of places where gay men can meet -- a few bars, public toilets, and a particular parking lot that has been the site of much harassment. Beatings are occurring with increasing frequency; one of Mr. Zeisler's friends was attacked a few weeks ago. On top of this, Mr. Zeisler has had to comply with official government snooping into his private life. For four years he has shared a two-room apartment with a male friend. Recently, the government required him to fill out forms explaining whether they were living together as two households, or as a couple. His friend, also a teacher, has been denied headmasterships because of his homosexuality, and Mr. Zeisler, a thin, boyish-looking man who chain-smokes American cigarettes, believes the same will be true for him. But even though there is far more tolerance toward homosexuality in West Germany -- particularly in West Berlin which in the 1930s boasted one of Europe's first gay dance halls -- Mr. Zeisler says he won't leave the East. "Many of my friends have left, probably half of them, and very few are happy over there," he says. "They say it's easier to find pick-ups, but harder to make real friends. One friend has called me every Sunday for a year, he's so homesick. He has had trouble getting a job. He has no furniture, just a television set and a bed. I think he's very ashamed, he won't let me visit him." Mr. Zeisler also worries about the West German work ethic. In East Germany, several of his friends are shop assistants, and, given the country's shortages, "nobody shops here, so there isn't much to do all day but talk on the phone and drink coffee." One friend used to such light demands took a job with a florist in the West, and lost it a month later for calling in sick too often. "I may not ever become a headmaster, but I really don't care about that," concludes Mr. Zeisler. "You may have freedom in the West, but you have security in the East. You have your job whether you work at it or not." A final concern to Mr. Zeisler is AIDS. The East German authorities have whipped up fear about AIDS and other Western problems, such as drug use. According to the authorities, only 82 of East Germany's 16.5 million people have AIDS. All of them are forced into strict quarantine and required to provide details of their sexual contacts. "It's not a problem for most people in East Germany," says Mr. Zeisler, peering nervously at passersby on a visit to a West Berlin cafe. "But I hear it's terrible here." For many, though, East Germany's radical transformation has come none too soon. Few are reveling in the change more than booksellers, who, for the first time in 40 years, can stock their shelves freely. Until a few weeks ago, the East German authorities limited access to countless books. Books by authors such as Sigmund Freud and Charles Darwin -- whose theories on human behavior didn't square with socialist precepts -- and on such forbidden subjects as Stalin were kept locked up. Only authorized scholars could gain access to so-called poison cupboards containing these works. So complete was the state's effort to control its citizens' knowledge that even maps of Berlin printed in the East showed nothing but blank space on the other side of the Berlin Wall. "The information available on this side of the Wall is about to explode," says one excited manager of a bookshop in East Berlin, who requested that his name not be used. Now that citizens can travel to Western libraries and book stores, there is no point in banning books, he notes. "The poison cupboard is empty, kaputt," he says triumphantly. Two weeks ago, a novel based on the abortive 1953 workers' revolt against the Communist rule in the country, written by the dissident East German novelist Stefan Heym, finally appeared in the East, and sold out quickly. "We had `The Tropic of Cancer' by Henry Miller for one day, but it was completely sold out," the bookseller reports." The bookseller stands in stark contrast to those of his compatriots who fear they will no longer be looked after by the state. He takes a drag on his cigarette, runs his hand thoughtfully through his short, Bertolt Brecht haircut, and asks a question many East Germans are suddenly confronting: "Why should some authority decide what I can and can't read? Why do I need some teacher telling me what I can and can't do, what is good for me and what isn't? It's a joke," he concludes. "It's laughable. I'm an adult." [This article is made available here by Dow Jones Co. for the personal and non-commercial use of callers to this bbs, in the hope that it will be of some help to those who are suffering from the disease and others who are seeking to help them.]