As we settled into our benches at eastern Berlin’s Prater Biergarten, two food stand huts sent bratwursts and drinks flying out as a line of customers grew. We huddled under red and white umbrellas at long, wooden tables as random drizzles of rain fell before the sun miraculously started gleaming over the crowd.
“Just another day at a German beer garden,” I thought. Until a journalism classmate of mine said in astonishment, “Oh my god, I forgot it was the Fourth of July.” It wasn’t the first time that day that one of us had said this, but it never failed to leave me reeling.