Together in drag

If a man carrying a pink rickshaw around town while selling Kombucha tea and homemade snacks doesn't turn your head, then I'm pleased to call you an honorary Berliner.

When an acquaintance of mine, Jon McPhedran Waitzer first told me of his plan to quit his job as a consultant and join two other friends Jules Gaffney and Loella Pehrsson to take to the streets on a pink rickshaw, I thought he was crazy. But I also thought the group would get a cult following from Berliners who relish eccentricity. It turns out the inhabitants of my adopted city aren't impressed that easily.

"We had been naïve," Jon told me, two months after the experiment began. "We imagined that people would see us from a mile away and come over. The response was more like 'Oh, what's that crazy pink rickshaw?' and then people would turned back to what they were doing. It is Berlin after all and they are used to seeing crazy things."

But my friends were determined to make their mark and be a part of Berlin's summer magic - the three precious months where we sit out on the grass, sing karaoke at Mauer Park and try to forget the nine grueling months of winter ahead of us.

"We wanted to install a bit of magical realism into people's summer experience," Jon told me. "We figured that for people who have loved this city for awhile - we should contribute something to the general magic. We wanted to draw people in to this celebratory, carnivalesque atmosphere."

Looking the part

A pink rickshaw might not be a show-stopper in this town, but if the person riding it is dressed in drag he might just be able to turn a few heads. And that is exactly what Jon and his friends realized after a stroll through the alternative pride parade, wearing red lipstick, silk blouses, wigs and stiletto heels.

"They loved it," said Jon, who fits into Berlin all too well, with the word feminism tattooed across his knuckles. "So, we decided to always do it as we rode around the city."

Adding a crystal dish with home-baked goodies to the ensemble, the trio approached diverse groups in the area offering their treats. Soon, they started throwing parties at the parks, with music and dancing around the rickshaw. From starting out as a mode of transport to bringing people together as a focal point at a party, the rickshaw has become a prototype for Jon's personal dream of creating opportunities for the different eclectic groups of Berlin to come together and build a new community.

Bridging the divide

One of Berlin's charms is the diversity of its neighborhoods. Although you are more likely find a "macchiato mom" pushing her baby stroller down the sidewalks of Prenzlauer Berg, and the hipsters of the city strolling down the streets of Neukoelln, within each sector there is still a patchwork of sub-cultures that Jon believes could integrate with a little encouragement.

It's not unimaginable. The gay community, the Turkish, activist and artist communities could all find enough common ground and come together - to build an extended family in the different districts of the city.

Ultimately, Jon wants his new community to find its home in a café with enough space for group meetings, lectures and screenings. It is modeled on a similar idea in Montreal, Canada, which has successfully brought groups together there. People could come to the space for events run by their own community and end up wandering into an event put on by another.

In his words, it would make "the activists more creative, the artists more politicized and everyone a little more queer. It is about bringing it all together."

The question is whether such a place would work in Berlin.

Without wishing to fall back on stereotypes, Canadians are known for their friendliness, but Berliners are not.

I'm also not sure if the various groups of this city want to get together in a spirit of unity or if the habit of "everyone doing their own thing" is already a type of community in itself.

On the other hand, the vision of a group of groups might not be far off the mark. Part of what makes Berlin unique is the diversity of people you see together at various coffee shops, dance clubs and street events. The other day, while running down Friedrichstrasse, I ran into a street party with five different trucks blasting techno music and hundreds of Berliners dancing behind them. Older citizens were cleaning up the streets, tourists were taking pictures, young hipsters were enjoying the freedom to drink in public and we were all suddenly in the middle of this impromptu street parade.

So, perhaps Jon is right. Perhaps we need more pink rickshaws in this town, street parties and community centers - especially to brighten up the dark, dark Berlin winter. It would give us more of a chance to rub shoulders, but without having to get too close. That would be just right. Because if you want to be a true Berliner, you've got to keep your distance somehow.

Author: Jenny Hoff
Editor: Zulfikar Abbany