EXBERLINER Issue 148 April 2016
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GUIDE<br />
KOTTI FOR...<br />
Natives<br />
You rarely venture north of Oranienstraße, you wear leather<br />
under your leather and you still remember when the Berlin<br />
Wall was in your backyard. This is your Kiez, and all the<br />
Scheiß-Touris can clear off. By Nina Branner and Janine Heim<br />
It’s Tuesday morning, and you’re at SÜDBLOCK<br />
(Admiralstr. 1-2) again. You were a bit suspicious<br />
when the glass-walled café-bar-venue<br />
opened up in 2010, but over time you became a<br />
regular – you even get your hair cut here, at the<br />
“Salon Salaam” sessions every second Monday.<br />
Today, though, you’re here for the “Hartzer<br />
Roller” free counselling, collecting a few tips on<br />
how to prolong your unemployment benefits.<br />
The future of your finances secured, you decide<br />
to treat yourself to a mid-morning snack at<br />
PADISAH BAKLAVA (Reichenberger Str. 177, see page<br />
48), passing a couple snooty-looking hotelier types<br />
who’re there to pick up bulk orders. To walk off<br />
the ensuing sugar high, you head to the lobby of<br />
the FRIEDRICHSHAIN-KREUZBERG MUSEUM (Adalbertstr.<br />
95a) for a neighbourhood meeting about<br />
– what else? – gentrification. You and everyone<br />
else agree that your beloved Kotti is overrun with<br />
disrespectful newcomers and something must be<br />
done, but no solutions present themselves. A petition<br />
is circulated to install more public toilets, and<br />
next thing you know, it’s lunchtime.<br />
Sadly, the tourists are mobbing TADIM (Adalbertstr.<br />
98, see page 48), your favourite döner<br />
stand – no homemade durum bread for you<br />
today. Instead, you wolf down a Köfte meat patty<br />
sandwich at the crowded but speedy KONAK GRILL<br />
(Reichenberger Str. 10). You remember you’ve got<br />
some errands to run. Yesterday, you stepped on an<br />
abandoned needle in front of your Späti and ruined<br />
your favourite pair of boots. Fortunately, you<br />
go way back with Ibrahim (see page 16) at ABGE-<br />
LAUFEN (Adalbertstr. 97), who gives you a discount<br />
on a new sole. While you’re at it, you pick up a<br />
handmade leather belt from Ibrahim’s neighbour<br />
at the LEDERREIZ ÄNDERUNGSSCHNEIDEREI (Adalbertst.<br />
88). He’s also an Urberliner, and you swap<br />
some anecdotes about the good old days.<br />
But you can’t stay long. It’s 6pm, and “happy<br />
hour” (which actually lasts all night) at ALIBI CAFÉ<br />
(Oranienstr. 169) has just begun. You’ll need<br />
that €4.50 Caipirinha to work up the courage<br />
to finally ask out that cute dark-eyed waitress<br />
you’ve had your eye on for months. Wanting to<br />
seem cultured, you invite her to an indie film<br />
screening at Kiez favourite FSK FILMKUNST-KINO<br />
(Segitzdamm 2). But she turns you down, so you<br />
go home and eat dinner: a fresh piece of salmon<br />
from the fish shop ÖZ KARADENIZ BALIKCISI (Adalbertstr.<br />
95). You’d been planning to cook it for<br />
the two of you, if the date went well.<br />
Time to drown your sorrows. You’re buddies<br />
with the bartender at the 20-year-old FRANKEN<br />
(Oranienstr. 19a), a smoky dive plastered with<br />
punk concert posters. But even his strongest<br />
Bloody Mary (€8 for friends) isn’t strong enough<br />
for you tonight, so you knock back a few beers<br />
at your Stammkneipe ZUM ELEFANTEN (Oranienstr.<br />
12), which you’ve been frequenting since<br />
way before Sven Regener immortalised it in<br />
the cult Kreuzberg novel Herr Lehmann. At this<br />
point you’re suffering from Kotti nostalgia, so<br />
you swing by punk institution SO36 (Oranienstr.<br />
190), where you used to go see Malaria! and<br />
Einstürzende Neubauten play back in the day.<br />
But all there is tonight is a “Kiez Bingo” tournament,<br />
and it’s already almost over. So you wind<br />
up where you always do: at ROTE ROSE (Adalbertstr.<br />
90). In this hellish Eckkneipe where no<br />
light gets in and the jukebox plays the same 20<br />
songs on repeat, you can enjoy your last beer<br />
and blend into a motley gallery of Kotti characters.<br />
Which might be exactly what you need at<br />
this point. ■<br />
SO36<br />
In this hellish Eckkneipe<br />
where no light gets in<br />
and the jukebox plays<br />
the same 20 songs on<br />
repeat, you can enjoy<br />
your last beer.<br />
Südblock<br />
Padisah Baklava<br />
MARIA RUNARSDOTTIR<br />
20 • APRIL <strong>2016</strong>