What do you mean – you haven't heard of Leipzig?

It’s funny how things are. Several months ago, I was completely unaware of the existence of Leipzig, Germany. As far as I can recall, I had never heard anything about it, be it good, bad or indifferent. This is no longer the case, due primarily to my work. I have been provided with not just one but two opportunities to visit Leipzig within the past two months. Along with this chance to spend some time in the lively East German university city, I have become aware of the fact that word of Leipzig is simply everywhere you look.

It started oddly enough, with a concerned e-mail from a friend linking to an article from the UK’s Daily Mail about a group of follicularly-challenged bears living in the Leipzig zoo. It seems that their female Andean bears are losing all their fur and no one can figure out why. Since receiving that e-mail, I have come across other Leipzig bear musings in the LA Times, Huffington Post and the BBC. The bears have gone global.

Next, there was the very recent 20th anniversary of the fall of the Berlin Wall. Watching the coverage on the BBC, there was mention after mention of what commentators felt was the initial spark leading up to the collapse of the wall. It was a peaceful candlelight demonstration that drew 70,000 Leipzigers out to the street on October 9, 1989, over a month before the wall fell. Next, I was hit with the sudden realization that one of my favorite areas in one of my favorite cities owes it name to Leipzig.

I had long known that Lipscani Street, the home of a burgeoning café revival in Bucharest was named after German traders, the Lipsca, who would sell their wares on this 18th century commercial street. Yet it was not until I started reading about the history of Leipzig and its importance as a center of trade that it dawned on me that the Lipsca were the people from Leipzig. Duh!! Since I was on a roll, I soon learned that the father of a super-duper cool friend of my mine…born in Leipzig. Also to be found here, Johann Sebastian Bach’s final resting place (or I should say final-final resting place, since the poor man has been relocated three times since his passing, all within, you guessed it, Leipzig); the world’s oldest train station, now moonlighting as a brewery making the highly recommended Gose beer; a bar mentioned in Goethe’s Faust; Europe’s largest monument, a monolith dedicated to the War of Nations and to end the list with a bit of a whimper, Germany’s biggest railway station turned department store, this one sadly lacking its own brewery.

In my nearly two weeks in Leipzig, I have done my best to honor this incredibly varied history. I visited the Leipzig Zoo, founded in 1878 and now home of the unfortunate Kojak the bears. I have long had mixed feelings about zoos. On one hand, a good one can educate people, create a passion for animals early in children’s life and provide a valuable tool in the fight against extinction. And by most accounts, this zoo would fall under the category of a “good zoo”. They boast a phenomenal breeding rate; many of the animal enclosures provide their inhabitants, the majority of whom appear to be well cared for, with a decent amount of room to run and play and it can not be denied, that in terms of old European elegance, it is simply a beautifully designed park. On the other hand, I can never get past the guilt that these majestic creatures are being denied what is their rightful place in the world, running wild in the jungles, deserts, ocean, wherever, for our amusement. As the sun was setting, we saw a series of small pens holding big cats, whose primitive instincts were telling them that they should be preparing to hunt their prey. It was heart-breaking watching them pace restlessly back and forth, wearing a groove in the dirt from this response to their unnatural incarceration. Of course, I did get to briefly view the famous bears, who in my opinion would benefit greatly from some Jessica Simpson hair pieces. But at the end of the day, when I weigh the admittedly pleasant day spent at Leipzig Zoo against the moral cost being paid by these innocent incarcerees, I remain as conflicted as ever.

Next on the Why-Leipzig-is-Famous tour, I attempted to gather some perspective on what led to the history-making candlelight march by visiting the Stassi Museum. Housed in the former home of the secret police, it details the lengths that the Communist party went to in order to keep tabs on each other. There are displays of bugging devices, hidden cameras, laughable disguises and even large machinery used to steam open people’s correspondence. We listened as a thorough and entertaining English language audio guide told stories that teetered between horrible and surreal. The level of paranoia that must have been present is hard to imagine but by keeping the offices exactly as they were, aging linoleum, stone-age typewriters and all, it at least gives the visitor a sense of what one would have found if called to this infamous place. Fittingly, the famous candlelight march included the Stassi building as one of the protest sites.

As for Leipzig’s history as a trading site, I feel that I did my fair share in contributing to the Gluhwein and Hefewesien economies, while my friends ensured that the sausage industry stayed healthy and vibrant. Surprisingly, thanks to a very citywide friendliness towards my vegetarian people (something not very common in meat-loving Germany), I was even able to partake in a tofu schnitzel or two. I visited the Faust bar (and resolved to read the book, which I should probably have read in high school), visited the war monument and found my way to the oldest train station cum brewery, which has been temporarily been shifted 60 meters to one side to make way for a subway line. But most of all, I gained some knowledge that I feel I should have had all along about world famous Leipzig.