We are since '89
all articles
It was high summer, when we grabbed Ostbürger 1974 for the holidays. In the Trabant station wagon we stowed a pouch tent, sleeping bag, alcohol stove, bikini, baby diapers, canned meat, camera - all the standards for family camping. Do not forget anything, we admonished each other. We lucky children, who had managed to get hold of a tent license for the Baltic coast in time.
On television, a stranger had just appeared, who apparently already had the holiday behind him: "High stood the sea buckthorn on the beach of Hiddensee," she sang and rolled her kulleraugen (YouTube video). A stimulating information they gave so always for the followers on the campgrounds on the west coast of Ruegen, from where you could take the ferry (but without a car) on the windzerzauste dream island translated.
But what was there, accompanied by piano, saxophone and tuba, sounded hurt instead of summer pleasures. The musician told of the trouble with her vacation companion:
"You forgot the paint film, Michael
Now no one believes us how beautiful it was here, ha-ha ha-ha. "
Heartbreaking then the description of the pain in details:
"Me in a bikini and me at the naturist
I naughty in the mini, landscape is there too.
But, how terrible, the tears are rolling hot
Landscape and Nina and everything just black and white. "
And finally the threat:
"Micha, my Micha, and everything hurts so much
Do that again, Micha, and I'll go! "
The singer's name was Nina Hagen - we immediately noticed the name. No one of the hit people in the art of entertainment with a home theme of the East had been so funny, so poppy.
photo gallery
18 pictures
GDR holiday hits: "You have forgotten the color film"She, then 19, really did. And in the West. Left Hiddensee and Micha and Farbfilmkummer behind. Because of completely different bad luck however. And started her world career as a pop artist. But this is another story.
For us who stayed behind in the East, Nina's sound has long been present in private discos, beach chairs, campfires. Never again have a GDR holidaymaker forgotten to pack the color film, it is said. And that in the summer time in the photo shops and beach kiosks, the Orwo-Color footage even ran into a scarce commodity.
Aftermath of the sulky song
Nina Hagen Hiddensee hit survived the GDR and attracts many Western tourists nowadays on the expensive Baltic Sea island. At that time the music editors of radio and television got grief. According to instructions, they had to take the title of the renegades from the program and now sat painfully in the summer hole.
All new posts "Wir wir '89" once a week by e-mail .
Subscribe to the newsletter right here:
In any case, they never had an easy time with the program design for the holiday season. The official cultural policy demanded that no unwanted longings be aroused to the big wide world. For there the devil was often in geographical detail.
So: no Italians from the west, no "white roses from Athens", no "spring in Portugal". Also no sailor romance as of Freddy Quinn and certainly no listing of typical Western travel deficits as in Paul Kuhn ("There is no beer in Hawaii") or Udo Jürgens ("I've never been to New York").
Price query time:
08.08.2019, 14:56 clock
No guarantee
DISPLAY
various authors
How the East made holidays: The most beautiful holiday resorts of the GDR
Publishing company:
Picture and home publisher
Pages:
160
Price:
EUR 14,99
Buy from Amazon Buy from Thalia
Product information is purely editorial and independent. The so-called affiliate links above, we usually receive a commission from the dealer when buying. More information here.
Only long-witted, witty global allusions from the Schlagerfundus of the twenties proved to be broadcastable, such as: "In the Amazon, our ancestors live there and throw bananas". At best, the big wide world appeared in Ulkgestalt. Thomas Lück, a goblin by the microphone, asked in reference to a Hemingway novel: "Where does the snow come from on Mount Kilimanjaro?" And quipped:
"Women go topless
That's what makes the zone too hot
Clothes are saved there
Only the leopard wears fur. "
Sometimes coincidence also prevailed. Dieter Schneider, major supplier of small-world texts, forged the verse line "I'm going from Dresden to Frankfurt on foot" for Frank Schöbel. Schneider's then wife, pop singer Monika Herz, found this too provincial and recommended globalization: "I walk from the North Pole to the South Pole". And so the most successful pop singer of the East unopposed set off for hiking on the meridian. Without any wanderlust. In the end, he no longer longed for "a kiss".
Trabi hitchhiker lyrics with home feeling
Priority was due to the small, familiar GDR holiday world. Geographically accurate to be located Schlagertexte played throughout the country. "> Help! <,> Help! </ My heart goes overboard ... / The water sports are too dangerous" sang the popular since the sixties Chris Doerk and made it sympathy advertising for holiday delights on Brandenburg and Mecklenburg lakes.
Another Saxon, the lesser-known Sonja Schmidt, sang with "A sky-blue Trabant rolled across the country in the middle of the rain" a car stopover experience:
"It was on the street
From X-Burg to Y-Hagen
I came from the station
Already started a thunderstorm.
I had the drops in my coat
In the shoe and in the collar
I waved to the cars
And one, a little one stopped. "
The Trabant Anthem of the 70's: hitchhiker's lyrics with home feeling. Even without a route it was clear: The song did not advertise a tour in the big wide world. Not even for a trip to the socialist brother countries. Because the copywriters stood there on a threshold - because of possible envy of the others.
The reasons were easily revealed when unpacking on campsites. In order to be prepared for local supply shortages, we carried as a precaution products from our somewhat richer GDR product range to the Masuria, the High Tatras, Lake Balaton and the Bulgarian Golden Sands. From canned meat to car spare parts. The color film anyway. Some things were then suitable as a gift. Or as a barter. Or to improve the holiday pay in local currency.
Nickname "Ivan de Luxe"
We perceived GDR tourists from our Eastern brothers and sisters long as the happier the planned economy. At the end of the seventies, when we were able to drive for the first time with the new Trabant de luxe, with two-horns and wickedly chrome-plated lamp rings, we were nicknamed GDR tourists by the nickname Ivan de luxe. Later, however, as more and more golfers occupied the Trabant parking lots and waved with the Westmark, we were downgraded to second-class tourists.
Wanderlust, home exchange, black market
The goal of almost every East German holidaymaker: the Baltic Sea (photograph taken from the beach in Warnemünde in 1978). Anyone who had landed one of the coveted places near the sea felt lucky. One-day author Siegfried Wittenburg describes his travel impressions - and how many GDR citizens had to help happiness a bit.
In this house directly behind the dune in Warnemünde lived in 1977 four families, the Yagi antenna on the roof was aligned to Eutin in Schleswig-Holstein. In the attic there was a four-poster bed, where happy guests from the southern districts of East Germany witnessed many a child in the summer months. The guests had to register because of the immediate border with all personal information in the house book.
Since 1971, the Hotel Neptun towers over the Baltic Sea resort of Warnemünde. Originally built on behalf of Swedish companies, it was originally intended as a foreign exchange provider. Shortly after the opening, 80 percent of the capacity was taken over by the FDGB holiday service. For twelve full-board days paid working people, selected according to "socialist criteria", 310 marks the GDR per room with sea views. Partly the high-priced gastronomy was also available to the locals (recording at the Alten Strom 1978).
GDR, Rostock-Lichtenhagen, 1978: Regardless of an advertisement and based on trust, many GDR citizens exchanged their apartments in order to enjoy a change of scenery on holiday. Those who had a small room could even accommodate guests from socialist countries, which opened up further travel opportunities for mutual benefit.
Ahrenshoop, 1978: In the summer months, all guest beds were occupied on the peninsula chain Fischland, Darß and Zingst. The people joked that the hosts have rented all the chicken coops. For locals, too, the recovery in their homeland was only possible with "Vitamin B" and their own car.
Moscow, Red Square, 1979: A trip to the Soviet "friend country" was possible with only a few exceptions in one group. After all, the money exchange was unlimited, but to move in the huge city of Moscow on their own, was hardly possible due to the tight program. Here people wait at the Kremlin wall for the entrance to the Lenin Mausoleum.
USSR, 1979: Kremlin means fortress. It was only within the Moscow Kremlin walls that one sensed the powerful, centralized organized power that still emanates from this place and influences a large part of the world.
Moscow, department store GUM, 1979: Every child in the GDR had heard of the GUM department store on the Red Square. But it was not a shopping mall in socialism. In complete contrast to the GDR, gold jewelery displays were lush, but the snakes formed as soon as toilet paper arrived. Western tourists bought their souvenirs for foreign currency in the Berjoska stores.
VR Hungary, 1977: Budapest had a great appeal for young East German citizens. A ticket there was not expensive. The metropolis had no wall, but with the Danube an impressive river and some Viennese charm. In the summer months loud Hungarian rock bands gave open-air concerts.
Budapest, 1977: Especially here it was a feat to get along with the limited exchange rate. A stop at a Viennese café or a Hungarian restaurant was almost impossible. Western tourists also stayed in town, it was easy to get in contact with them.
Budapest, Vaci utca, 1977: In the pedestrian area of Budapest, there was an atmosphere that was familiar from Western films: neon signs and attractive displays in the shop windows. The seduction of choosing a fancy garment was great, but the forints were not enough. The motto was: looking the other way, avoiding it, eating an ice cream and still looking forward to life.
VR Poland, 1977: Those who wanted to experience more intellectual freedom traveled to Warsaw. Again, the conversion rate was unlimited and possible on better conditions on the black market. Here, the locals also spoke to GDR citizens: "Swap money?" A rebuilt, historic city center with felis and lively street catering exerted a great charm.
Warsaw, art trade, 1977: The making and the public presentation of artistic works - in the GDR without permission unthinkable. So also this sight had a certain exoticism. At the flea market there was a lot of money Western records, whose import was banned in the GDR. But at the eastern border controls were not as stringent as at the southern border.
The baroque palace Wilanów in Warsaw, rebuilt after its destruction in 1944, is called the Polish Versailles. Here we learned in 1977 that the Polish people professed their monarchical origin, in contrast to the GDR, where history was transformed into the legitimate victory of the working class.
Klodzko, Neißebrücke, 1977: Our private hosts did not show that the People's Republic of Poland was going through a severe crisis. Some foods were rationed and many shelves in grocery stores were empty. An old woman scolded me when she recognized me as a German because I wore shoes that reminded her of Dachau.
Klodzko, flea market, 1977: No one in the GDR told us that this southern Polish and Lower Silesian town Klodzko was once called Glatz and the population was completely replaced. The people depicted on a flea market previously settled in the territory of what is now Ukraine in the Western Soviet Union.
Outdoor market stalls like here in Klodzko, Poland, in 1977 were largely unknown to us. The retail trade in the GDR had found ways to sell its goods against adequate consideration under the counters, with a private retail trade between the GDR and Poland was common. Who followed an invitation in Poland, previously received a wish list for goods from the GDR.
In 1977, we even admired a palm tree in this South Polnian spa Polanica-Zdrój, once called Bad Altheide. We met a Pole, who thankfully invited us to a large sundae: Germans had saved his life during the Nazi regime by hiding him.
On holiday on the Bulgarian Black Sea coast in 1978 we had the feeling that we were on the same latitude as Barcelona. A two-week trip with the FDJ youth tourist cost only half as much as with the state travel agency of the GDR. However, Western tourists, the real target group of the Bulgarian hosts, could stay for four weeks for this price.
PR Bulgaria, Wesselie, 1978: The interior of the People's Republic of Bulgaria was very poor but at least exotic. The people were friendly, there were many opportunities to quench his hunger for fruits and vegetables, which in the GDR extreme shortage prevailed.
VR Bulgaria, Sozopol, 1978: The tiny bungalow on the semi-natural campsite was equipped without much comfort, just with a double bed, two sheets to cover, a small table with two stools and a coat hook. But it was worth it to have once escaped the GDR, to see grape vines and fig trees.
VR Bulgaria, Nessebar, 1978: A Soviet-style hydrofoil made it possible to sail across the Black Sea to ancient Nessebar. Here also many West Germans cavorted on the gold and sunny beach. Boat trips were also offered to Istanbul, priced in dollars. Often it worked out that GDR citizens with a fake pass on this route could flee. Often not.
CSSR, Hotel in Trebon, 1978: Tourist brochures, accommodation directories or hotel flyers did not exist. It was a stroke of luck to be able to spend the best days of the year in such accommodation as this one. Even in private accommodation, which was allocated by the local lodges, you could experience good or bad surprises.
Trebon, hotel room, 1978: Even though the beds were separated, the comfort with bathroom, radio and a picture on the patterned wall was pure luxury. At home in the GDR, it was not better without a home of his own.
CSSR, Hluboka Castle, 1978: The CSSR state travel agency presented us with hiking maps and recommended a visit to Hluboka Castle near the Vltava river town. The area was rich in fish ponds, which enhanced the menus.
CSSR, Budweis, 1978: We knew the affected facades from the GDR. Only in South Bohemia they were a bit more colorful. The expenses in the shops did not appeal, we did not have the money available. The beautiful hours of the holiday consisted of hikes, tasty fish dishes and Budweiser beer.
CSSR, 1978: The historic town of Cesky Krumlov offered a picturesque sight in the morning mist. It houses an imposing castle on a river dike.
Cesky Krumlov, 1978: The stroll through the historic old town was a shock. In the face of decaying buildings and people living there, serious doubts arose as to whether ruling socialism can live up to its promise that, from 1980, a land of milk and honey called Communism will become a reality.
CSSR, Iron Curtain, 1978: The End of Our World. An unforgettable impression left a walk along this fence, which was officially awarded as a hiking trail on the tourism map. The Iron Curtain to Austria had been pulled a few miles earlier, which was not yet recorded on the maps. A little thing would have been sufficient and the holiday ended because of attempted republic escape behind bars.
GDR, Rügen Island, Stubnitz, 1990: I was only able to enjoy this view, only 130 km away from my hometown, in 1990, after the fall of the Berlin Wall made the world bigger. The color film ORWOCHROM UT 18 from the VEB Photochemical Combine Wolfen did not exist anymore, so I had to change to Kodak. Therefore, the blue sky and the blue sea, which were always blue on the Baltic Sea in the sunshine and are.
All in all, the GDR entertainment art suffered from an island mentality. Also concerning the external effect. Only a few of the Schlagingängern Ost were on their way west, and very seldom and with moderate success - because their hits hardly knew anybody there and no Ostfan could follow them as a tourist with a tourist visa.
The parade broadcast of the GDR television was called "A Kessel Bunte". Only those who were there had a chance to be noticed by the entertainment industry in the West. Frank Schöbel appeared on "Music from Studio B" of the NDR and at the Football World Cup 1974 in the Frankfurt Waldstadion. His biggest hit "Like a Star" was sold 150,000 times as a single. This brought foreign exchange, but was not widely celebrated in the GDR press.
Two home anthems
With humorous folksy like "Do not worry (we get a pair of pliers)" managed Monika Hauff and Klaus-Dieter Henkler, a kind of east variant of Cindy and Bert, after all to the "ZDF hit parade" and Olympia in Mexico. Before, folksong fans loved the accordion-playing hairdresser Herbert Roth. In the spring of 1951 he praised us tourist self-determination. Roth sang what he found on his doorstep and could reach on foot: the Rennsteig.
Weimar students protested in 1956 against the "bourgeois kitsch and Tralala" of the bard from Suhl, but sold more than a million records with his simple home song. Roth's "Rennsteiglied" is still regarded as the secret hymn of Thuringia.
And the Saxons? They had their Jürgen Hart. The Leipzig cabaret artist defined the limited travel radius of his compatriots with the dialect song "Sing, my saxon, sing":
"The Saxon loves traveling a lot
No, no, that's not in Gnogh
That's why he likes to go there
In his three vacation weeks.
To nunder to Bulgarschn
Dud he bite the world. "
That came to the GDR holiday hit of the late seventies. Until cultural guard suspicions drew in the verses:
"Un gammt the Saxon to Berlin
Do not begrudge him.
There want to be over there
You want to argue with him. "
The joke song could, so they thought, serve prejudices and cause discord. Especially since a large part of the functionary caste in Berlin was often associated with Saxon origin. So the music editors were ordered, if not prohibition, then restraint. Jürgen Hart, however, moved on with his song undauntedly across the country:
"Un dunesn ooch verscheißern,
His songs he sings ironically:
Sing my Saxon, sing! "
Bécaud's minor song
The Saxony couplet has survived until today. Like Nina's Schmolllied. And we got more and more international East flair on the screen: Karel Gott with his golden voice from Prague and the Zhivago melody "Do you know where my heart is traveling". The elegiac Hungarian Zsuzsa Koncz lured with "I come and go with my songs / and I am for honesty", while Poland's well-known rock group Red Guitars warned us: "So high, so high on the roof of this world, storms and cold await me".
But the sovereignty in the ether, where no control worked, always retained the sound of the Westerners. On the campgrounds made for the Kofferheulen - so they called the then very chunky transistor radios.
Stars such as Harry Belafonte, Adamo and Dalida, Udo Jürgens, Costa Cordalis were later also on the East television when they performed in the Berlin Friedrichstadt-Palast or in the Palace of the Republic.
We listened especially to a wiry Frenchman: Gilbert Bécaud, called Monsieur 100,000 Volts, with "Nathalie", his sweeping declaration of love to his Moscow tour guide. A chanson in minor of a passion that blazed at a completely different place than the one in Nina Hagen's Hiddensee hit: Heart instead of bile.
