Munich: My Childhood Home

My little brother was born in Munich. My twin sister and I went to primary school, and my older brother to Junior High there. In childhood, there is a period known as the years of innocence, when children are unaware of the mundane aspects of life. Munich is my place childhood innocence.

I wholly believed in Santas Clause in Munich. We built snowmen all winter long in Munich. German Christmas Markets were normal outings as a kid. The smell of bratwurst wafted down the streets when we walked around the City Centre. We’ve go Volksmarching in the forests around Munich with our dad every weekend we could convince him to take us.

My dad taught us how to fish at Dachau. And explained the history of Dachau to us much later.

We always went to two Oktoberfests: the mini-Oktoberfest in July and the big one in September. Munich is the place where I learned to read. I pestered my mom into teaching me to read my first book Danny and the Dinosaur because school was taking too long to teach me; and I needed to read that book ‘now’.

So when my friends asked me why I was spending so much time in Germany: Hamburg, Berlin, Munich. I realised I have never really talked much about those years. It seems I sublimated the fun, joyful, and maybe uneventful years in Munich for the more tumultuous and eventful years of puberty, and our return to the US.

So I made this little pilgrimage of sorts to see our childhood home,

our school,

our school’s mascot, which I forgot was made of stone.

and our neighborhood movie theatre.

I also visited sites we normally visited during weekend visits into ‘town’ as kids.

My Munich visit was a small, private affair. I stayed in a 6 bed hostel room —alone.

But no destination on this trip filled me with more anticipation than during the research on trying to find our old street, and the train ride to the neighbourhood, and the walking down our street (Cincinnatistraße) trying to recognise where friends lived, and while trying to decipher the updated scenery with massive tress that have grown over the past few decades. Looking at the massive trees, I remembered I learned to rake leaves into piles bigger than I was, which we would all take turns running and leaping into.

And all the while remembering to always, always stop for flowers.

Next up: Spain!