And the Berghain toilets! The conclusion of this special club visit: My child is fit for life.
Suzanne Lenz
Two women dancing. Nightlife in a Berlin club (symbol image)imago/Marco Stepniak
The appointment has been in place since the first wave. After Corona we would go to Berghain together, an acquaintance and I, both of an advanced age. A few days ago it was time, but there weren’t two of us. My daughter, she was 17 when we made the appointment, now 19, had softened me with the sentence that she couldn’t get in there without me.
That sounded flattering. On the other hand, I thought: Wrong world, that the old mother should drag her daughter to the club. But in the end, I felt wrapped up in my mothering responsibilities. Don’t they also consist in smoothing the child’s way into the world? And be it to Berghain.
What does it mean to be a mother? I hadn’t guessed it beforehand, but the club visit was headed with this question in capital letters. How do you take care of your child, what do you even know about them? How do you get through life safely, at least as long as you somehow have it in your hands? Are you allowed to bring it to a place where drugs are used? Do I want that kind of closeness?
The new freedom of movement in Berghain
After my rather long break in Berghain, I was surprised by the new liberality of the outfits. That evening, on the long bench opposite the cloakroom, the wearers of the winter jackets, hats, scarves and heavy winter boots that were absolutely necessary for the long queue outside turned into dazzling, half-naked creatures of the night. I watched my otherwise very prudish daughter, who would never go to a nudist beach, for example, from the side, looking for shock signals. There were none.
Still, the child wouldn’t let go of my hand. It was a little scared. It was like our first visit to the ghost train when it was very small, like the first rowing boat ride. A frightener could be lurking anywhere, everywhere is a shaky ground.
Thoughts shot through my head: Is this too much for you? Should we have waited until she was older? Shouldn’t I have known? And also: Isn’t that an experience she should have had alone, without the tangible mother’s hand? – I’m really not one of those mothers who wants to be their children’s friend. I have no problem making announcements about unwashed dishes, shower water on the bathroom floor and forgotten groceries. But there we were.
The hamster wheel in my head finally stopped
And then we relaxed, drank a cocktail. I stopped the hamster wheel in my head, stopped, blinked, looked around. The child wanted to puff on the cigarette that I, who had been a non-smoker for a long time, had wrested from my friend. In different circumstances I would have given her a bird, but somehow different rules apply in Berghain. No mothering rules, or at least motherhood here no longer follows the dictates of integrity and reason exclusively.
We went dancing together. First down on the Techno Floor, later up in the Panorama Bar. That would have been unthinkable with my parents. It’s actually fortunate that the boundaries between the generations are no longer so impenetrable that they can’t sometimes be crossed. That there is a space, a time when I don’t have to choose between being a mother and being the person who wants to go to Berghain again. That I can withdraw from this order of the family system for a moment and let the two worlds connect with each other on this evening. Two women next to us asked if we were mother and daughter. They celebrated us. “That’s my goal,” said a young woman. “I also want to come here with my child.” Her daughter is four, as it turned out when asked.
Wow Berghain! You can embroider this on your pillow. You are not just a club, you are associated with goals in life. People want to show you to those they love the most. share you with them. Is that because of all the goodwill that wafts through these halls? It doesn’t matter where it comes from. It must have been in these people somewhere. That must be extremely appealing to someone like my daughter who is socialized with thumbs-up or thumbs-down. That’s what she said later when we talked about the visit, which we do again and again, by the way: “Everyone can be whatever they want.”
Before the Berghain toilets, the child showed flexibility
The visit to the notorious Berghain toilets finally made it clear to me: my 19-year-old is fit for life. At first she said she could only go into a cabin like this alone. Or at most with me. During the long wait and observation, she realized: This is impossible. At Berghain, you go to the tiny restrooms in groups, with people meeting in line. With people you don’t know. Five, six, even ten. And the child showed flexibility, was able to turn around and share this place with five total strangers from Italy. We peed, the others prepared white powder on their mobile phone displays. I only warded off the two boys who had pushed in: “My daughter is 19, you can’t go in with us.” They complied.
Hours later, outside again in the Berlin night, the child said: “I’m the coolest person in the world.” Well, what else!
On the way home, I scolded her broken rear light on the bike. I liked it better in Berghain.