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United by a Common Thread
By Ann (Curry) Otto
I have traveled all over the world as part of my job
with an international non-profit humanitarian
organization, but the most memorable trip of my life
was my first one outside of the United States – the
journey I made in the summer of 1962 to Europe as a
People to People Student Ambassador.
Because we were the first group of American college
students to visit West Berlin, our guides
anticipated that we might have problems at the
border between East Germany and West Berlin. That’s
why, a mile before the border in a field near
Helmstedt, East Germany, we unloaded our suitcases,
pulled out all the books and literature about the
Berlin situation we’d been given a few days before
in Washington, D.C., – and burned them. |
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It was hard to believe that just a week before I had
been standing with our People to People delegation
in front of the Liberty Memorial in Kansas City, Mo.
We were about to begin our bus trip to Washington,
D.C., for an orientation before heading for Europe.
That afternoon, I heard Joyce C. Hall, chairman of
the People to People executive committee and founder
of Hallmark Cards, tell our group, “In the weeks you
are in Europe, you will have a chance not only to
change the impression people have of you as American
youth but their whole image of America.”
Even after all our preparations – and even after
burning our books – we were held an extra three
hours at the border between East Germany and West
Berlin for reasons unknown to us. East German
soldiers paraded alongside our bus and up and down
the aisle. We were led off the bus where we passed
through a checkpoint, giving our passports and
whatever other information they wanted. Mostly, we
sat and waited and felt courageous.
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The delay caused us to arrive
three hours late that night in West Berlin. Yet
our families were still waiting at the bus
station, greeting us with warm smiles and open
arms. I was to stay with a German woman named
Marguerite Czogiel, who before coming to Berlin
had lived in France and South America. She spoke
little English, and my German, even after two
years in college, would not have impressed my
language teacher, but somehow we managed to
communicate. Throughout that week, armed with
dictionaries, infinite patience and a desire to
get to know one another, we became friends.
A few of us spent a
chilling afternoon in East Berlin, even though
we had been cautioned by People to People staff
not to go there because they couldn’t guarantee
our safety. That only increased our desire to
make the trip. I remember the distinct
difference between East and West Berlin |
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– East Berlin was gray and colorless, a
city absent of sunlight and life, especially in
contrast to the glitter and bustle of West Berlin. I
wish I could have taken pictures, but our cameras
were held at the border between the two cities.
On June 17, we participated with thousands of West
Berlin students in a silent demonstration through
the streets of West Berlin commemorating the
uprising in 1953 of East Berlin workers against the
East German government. The march, accompanied by
the roar of planes flying overhead dumping leaflets
denouncing the demonstration (we were told by our
German friends that they were Soviet aircraft),
ended at the Berlin City Hall. There we listened to
speeches by West Berlin Mayor Willi Brandt and West
German Chancellor Konrad Adenhauer, who as part of
their talks welcomed the People to People students.
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Since that first overseas trip,
I’ve seen more of the world than I could ever
have imagined. I have wandered the streets of
Jerusalem and walked atop the wall of the Old
City at night, climbed hills in rural Guatemala
and marveled at the clarity of Lake Atitlan,
made my way through the crowded, smoky streets
of Calcutta and best of all, met and gotten to
know many wonderful people from all cultures.
All inspiring and rewarding experiences, but my
summer with People to People was the beginning.
People to People taught me that despite
differences in language, culture and religion,
we are all human with the same hopes, dreams,
joys and sorrows, and that even though it often
seems an impossible task, this common thread can
unite us. It is a lesson I learned over and over
again as I met mothers, fathers and children
throughout the world who were struggling to make
decent lives for themselves despite overwhelming
odds. |
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