My Own Private Plattenbau

There were certainly many other places I could have stayed here in Berlin, but I chose the Ostel quite deliberately. The entire conceit of the place is that guests will have a taste--however superficial and Ostalgic (East-nostalgiac)--of what it was like to live in a genuine DDR-apartment. Perhaps what I found most surprising was the feeling that the rooms weren't really all that terrible. I realize it would be absurd to pay money to stay in an uncomfortable place, like a medieval historian choosing to stay in a damp, drafty castle, but I expected I would notice some very specific weaknesses. I didn't. Wallpaper patterns (in both the rooms I stayed) are intended to provide depth, so that the rooms don't seem quite so small and flat. The bathroom had plenty of hot water. The most notable design choices had to do with furniture and appliances, which were, presumably, from the 70s or 80s.

Still, even though I was living in spaces outfitted to give me a feel for day-to-day East German "style", I knew that I would have to dig around a bit to learn more about Plattenbauten (panel-construction) apartments.

This is what the Ostel looks like from the outside. They've done a nice job of sprucing it up with a colorfully painted facade.

Plattenbauten buildings might best be described as "pre-fab". One of myvsources asserts that the Dutch created the technique, and the most common type of Platte in Berlin was the WBS 70 (Wohnbauserie 70). Following the war, there was an acute housing shortage in Berlin, and the Soviets had essentially looted all the heavy equipment in their sector. Simply put, there was no way that the GDR could rebuild without sufficient raw materials and enough heavy equipment. Even though the SED called for "National Building" in 1952, and although the next 20 years saw some impressive constructions (for propaganda and prestige purposes), the housing shortage remained an acute "political-social" problem, threatening the legitimacy of the regime.

Then, in the 70s, when the construction of public buildings such as the Fernsehturm or the Haus des Lehrers was completed, the regime initiated a large-scale housing program. There are entire areas of the city that consist almost entirely of Plattenbauten. In areas such as Berlin Mitte, near the wall, builders added appropriate mosaics or facades, in an attempt to retain the historical feel of the neighborhood, but they never really lived up to West German standards.

The bathrooms in these apartments have no proper ventilation. Mine had a series of holes in the base of the door to encourage air circulation. For that reason they were called "Wet-cells". Nonetheless, it appears that East Germans prized their apartments when they finally got them. Like their Trabis, they lavished individual attention on their new personal property. Unfortunately, because each apartment was built to identical specifications, and because all the available furniture was built to identical specifications, they usually looked almost identical. But, like so many things in the GDR, the differences were subtle.

Scholars described the GDR as a Nischengesellschaft or "niche-society". It was necessitated by the constant surviellance and pressure to conform. Individuals would express their differences in safe spaces with close friends and family. These "niches" would be their new, damp apartments, their "dachas" (garden-houses or larger vacation cottages), and their hard-to-come-by Trabant automobiles. Although the SED provided them with youth clubs and art and leisure centers, but the common people avoided them. Instead, them met in small groups at their "dachas". Individually, they would read world literature rather than watch state-controlled television.

So, it took me about 10 days and some reading to really appreciate my own private Plattenbau.