Germany opens its doors to young working Kiwis

SHONA RIDDELL, who has been working and studying in Berlin, advises young New Zealanders what they can expect.

It's winter in Berlin and snow crunches underfoot as I wobble through a Prenzlauer Berg park. Where are we, I ask. Mauer Park, my friend-cum-tourist guide answers. Mauer means wall. This area was part of the Death Strip, a no-man's-land which bordered the Berlin Wall. Now it's a park.

It's 10 years since the reunification of East and West Germany, and Berlin is a bizarre mix of history and modernity. Its centre, formerly covered by the Berlin Wall, hosts the most spectacular modern architecture in Europe. Close by in the East are buildings scarred by 50-year-old bullet holes.

Illegal bars spring up in basements lit by tea lights, and two months later they close without warning. Artists create studios from gutted buildings, which then become cafes for tourists who stare mesmerised at its fire-breathing sculptures.

The working holiday visa, similar to the visa available for countries such as England, will enable New Zealanders between 18 and 25 to live in Germany and work part-time, in return allowing 200 Germans with general and business skills to come to New Zealand.

Already more than 180 nationalities are living in Berlin, and English is increasingly widely spoken. Most Berliners under 30 can speak it fluently. From a foreigner's perspective, it's true that German is not easy to learn.

The writer Mark Twain once wrote a long essay entitled The Terrible German Language, bemoaning the ridiculous syntax and the way a turnip is referred to as a she, while a girl is merely an it. But persevere. It's worth it.

One of Berlin's finest assets is its frequent and punctual public transport system. They promise a service every two minutes and 28 seconds and they're right.

A warning if you're tempted to try to avoid paying the fares, though. Trains are randomly controlled by ticket inspectors. Obviously deriving huge enjoyment from their jobs, they don disguises such as torn clothes and floral dresses in a bid to catch out the unsuspecting ticketless commuter.

A friend who never bought a ticket boasted once that he just relied on some sort of sixth sense. But a DM60 ($63) fine later, his special gift was nowhere to be seen.

Another bonus of living in Berlin is that the German mark is similar in value to the New Zealand dollar.

In England, bemused backpackers wander the streets whispering, "Surely it doesn't cost that much?" as their carefully saved New Zealand dollars last for an afternoon rather than the intended three years.

In Berlin, a room in a shared flat costs between $300 and $400 a month, much the same as in New Zealand.

The former East Berlin is cheaper, often with the advantage of a shower in the kitchen (before 1989 bathrooms were almost always communal), which is perfect if you're running late in the morning.

About a month ago I went to a concert in the Rote Salon, a famous kitsch club decorated totally in red, to see a Canadian-German band called Fuzzy Love.

The singer was wearing a huge afro wig and some CDs tied together. That's all. And singing swing-style renditions of every imaginable pop or gothic song -"She loves you, yeah, yeah, yeah ... " "Sie liebt dich, ja, ja, ja ... "

For me, this is "typisch Berlin."