From nooks beneath Mount Qasioun to a cityscape sky pierced by the Fernsehturm
‘Multikulti’ is the German neologism that contracts the extended English term ‘multicultural’, which is just one blatant adjective that could be used to describe the city of Berlin. The city’s eccentric, accepting nature and intricately cross-weaved pattern of ethnicities is present and quite palpable in many aspects of city living, easily demonstrating how the word can be employed and applied in description of a city like this.
Berlin’s multiculturalism can be measured by whispers of conversation in various languages that enter your ear as other city-dwellers pass you by on the street, or in the swathes of high-quality Döner/Turkish cuisine outlets that leave traditionally-German Currywurst eateries in the culinary dust, or by counting the number of public notices and placards written in German and then in Arabic or Turkish in certain areas of Kreuzberg.
However, the prized epitome of this culturally convulsing metropolis is undoubtedly Sonnenallee in Neukölln.
The South-Berlin Bezirk (district) has metamorphosed from a dangerously-deemed and undesirable neighbourhood into one of the most sought-after property hotspots in the city, where the words hipster and hijab seem to rhyme.
This street, which needles its way through the northern extremities of the Bezirk, is often referred to by locals as ‘The Street of Arabs’, or شارع العرب.
Here can be found a multitude of Arabic supermarkets, halal butchers, shisha shops and of course baklava confectionery shops.
Neukölln has been known for housing immigrant communities for a number of years, but it is only recently that it has come to be known as the ‘cool’ place to live in Berlin. Gentrification seems to have taken a different kind of foothold here – the steady influx of new, more-moneyed residents is not ceasing, but it doesn’t seem as if Neukölln is losing a huge portion of the Eastern cultural influences that gave and give it it’s name and reputation.
Following the introduction of Germany’s ‘Culture of Welcome’ (‘Willkommenskultur’ in German) in the 1960s, with the ‘Gastarbeiter’ programme and other immigration schemes being established, cultural bubbles began to form in certain parts of German cities. These bubbles hardened generationally and have now solidified, meaning that these areas are famously known for high-immigrant populations. As the most densely-populated Ortsteil (area of a city) in the capital and having been described as ‘a shining example of integration’ in many media profiles, Neukölln boasts a localised ethnic harmony.
When exploring the area, armed with a number of Syrian football team t-shirts (Al-Ittihad, Al-Karama and Nosour Qasioun (Syria National Football Team), kindly printed by Subside Sports), I entered one Konditorei (confectionery shop) to enquire about the Arabic football culture, and also to buy some Kunefe and Baklava.
After being heartily welcomed-in and exchanging pleasantries in Arabic, I was asked inquisitively about why I study the language. Conversation pertaining to football ensued thereafter.
One man, called Amin Al-Shebli, was working in the shop and proudly proclaimed that he had actually played for Al-Karama, one of the teams whose emblem was on the t-shirts. He invited me a week later to a training session in Baumschulenweg. This area is slightly removed from my normal sphere of influence in Neukölln and I am not very good at football… I awaited the day excitedly.
The football team that he plays for, ‘الكوثر’ (Al-Kowthar, which the name of a river in islamic paradise (جنة)) is only made up of Arabic nationals or descendants. This was a dream for me, as the only modes of communication available were either German or Arabic. Although being a bit put out by my utter lack of football skills and after being shouted at aggressively a few times in Arabic, I really began to feel settled among the players. I loved the electric dynamic between them, conducted by the cold Berlin air and beaming floodlights.
Below is the transcript of my first ever interview conducted in Arabic:
Amin Al-Shebli
G: Hi Amin, could you please first start off by telling me how old you are, where you are from and how long you have lived in Germany?
A: My full name is Amin Al-Shebli, I come from Homs in Western Syria, I am 27 years old and have lived in Germany for one year now.
G: And what is your relationship with football like here in Germany, in comparison to when you were living in your homeland, Syria?
A: It is completely different. In Germany it is hard for me. I practice football here with my team as a hobby, for fun…
...in Syria it was my job. Among the team that I play for now, we enjoy a kick-about and a game on the weekends, but we do not play professionally. We do not earn money from it, there are no professional advantages, we are merely a collection of friends from similar heritages.
G: So tell me about the respect in which you played football in Syria?
A: I was a well-known player in Syria. I played professionally and had a contract with the team (Al-Karama).
G: Would you want to play again professionally here in Germany? To play football as a job I mean.
A: I am currently seeking to develop myself in order to play again professionally, but that is proving to be very difficult. I am studying German here in Berlin as I want to learn more about the culture here. It is hard to find time for it. This feeling is bothering me, but it is only a feeling of the present. It shall pass. When I was in Syria, everything in my life was about football, but now the situation is different. It is 90% life (and 10% football). My wife is pregnant and I have to support her, so if that means sacrificing something I love, I must.
G: How is the culture of football continuing in your country, following the war?
A: I was in my country, continuously involved in football during this time, which was difficult but it was even more difficult for anyone to leave my homeland. The circumstances we left under were obviously induced by the war, but there was also the risk of conscription into the army depending on what age you were. This could have meant that you would be pulled into the conflict. I am just overjoyed to be away from there for now and thankful to God for my safe arrival in Germany.
G: Alhamdullilah (Thanks be to God), thank you for your time.”
When asking other members of the team about their opinions on the team t-shirts that I had, they seemed somewhat unsupportive. Many of the guys spoke more highly of English teams or other European teams, preferring to support them instead of the teams from their own country.
Below players share baklava and socialise following practice:
I think what I ultimately observed during my time with the team and Amin, is that you could change the football top that I was asking the players to hold for anything, the crest, the words and the name. The connection to their homeland is something undefinable by any team, it is in every part of who these men are. Football and their collective German identity is what truly brought them together.
I wrote this blog post on behalf of a Devon/Berlin-based football/sports apparel company called Subside Sports. You can browse their collection and page here:
Germany: https://www.subsidesports.de/de/
UK: https://www.subsidesports.com/uk/berlin_shop