29

North Charlottenburg

C Intro

 

For the sixth and final Berlin post I wanted to explore somewhere that would absolutely confirm the theory that Berlin consists of a whole load of Berlins – each one so different you’d swear you were in another city.

Initially I wasn’t interested in Charlottenburg. All I’d heard was that it was affluent and contained a palace (yawn) and a major shopping strip, the Ku’damm.

But when I scrutinised the map for signs of life, I found a small patch in North Charlottenburg that intrigued me – a whole load of tiny streets. What were they I wondered?

Turns out they were the elusive kleingartenkolonien that I’d been searching for ever since we’d arrived in Berlin – small garden colonies also known as Schrebergärten or allotments.

When I read up on Charlottenburg Nord, I discovered that these garden colonies were sandwiched between two churches and a prison memorial that commemorated those who stood up to the Nazis – and were killed for doing so.

Garden colonies next to a prison with a memorial for Nazi victims – strange enough for me.

Quick history… North Charlottenburg is in the west of Berlin and the northern part of the Charlottenburg-Wilmersdorf borough just south of Tegel Airport. Far from being affluent, it consists of housing estates, allotment gardens, commercial zones and Plötzensee Prison.

Let’s…

 

Part 1: Where am I?

There are more than 100 garden colonies in Berlin but I’d never managed to spot one until I visited North Charlottenburg. Suddenly I was in kleingartenkolonien heaven – there seemed to be squillions of the things, stretching for miles and miles.

Unlike other garden allotments where urban dwellers are given small areas of soil to grow stuff on, Berlin’s allotments also come with small homes – less than 24sqm small.

While they may be petite, they have everything you need – electricity, plumbing etc – to be able to spend large chunks of time in them. And some of them are really sweet and obviously well looked after.

So does anyone live in their miniature homes? Some people I asked said, oh no, it’s illegal. Others said, well, occasionally it’s okay. Only one lady fessed up with what I suspect is the truth – that many people spend their entire summers living in them, only leaving when the weather forces them to.

My next question was, so how do you get one? Those who are lucky enough to know someone who wants to sell their allotment need to shell out a one-off payment of around 10,000 euros and then pay the government 400 euros a year in rent. But many Berliners never get a look in because a large number of the allotments are just passed on from one generation to the next.

Got your spade? Let’s wander…

 

welcome to miniature town

welcome to miniature town

 

 

 

 

The first people I met in this miniature, magical kingdom were Erika and Gunther. Their real home is an apartment, just five minutes away, but for 53 years they’ve been visiting their garden home, “whenever the weather is good”. Their two daughters grew up here and now have their own allotments nearby.

 

Erika in Kolonie Wiesengrund

Erika in Kolonie Wiesengrund

 

 

 

 

'the garden keeps us young' - 72 year old Erika and 80 year old Gunther

‘the garden keeps us young’ – 72 year old Erika and 80 year old Gunther

 

 

 

 

green thumb and lilac fingers - Erika's favourite flower

green thumb and lilac fingers – Erika’s favourite flower

 

 

 

 

Sitting in their garden, it really did feel like I’d left Berlin and was in the country somewhere. Erika produced tomatoes and carrots from her hothouse and showed me the inside of her garden home – it reminded me of a holiday house down the coast from Sydney – just smaller.

Yet as relaxed and rural as it seemed, the allotments are actually sitting on prime urban real estate – Erika explained that the garden colonies cover half the land size that they used to and are in danger of shrinking even more.

 

an endangered species - the gardens are shrinking

an endangered species – the gardens are shrinking

 

 

 

 

On our next visit, Coco and I noticed a whole load of balloons in an allotment just down the path from Erika and Gunther. We were peering over the fence when a couple of kids raced around – a moment later we were invited in for a cherry drink and to hear what the party was all about – Fabrizzio’s daughter had just started school and they were celebrating.

 

party?

party?

 

 

 

 

'soul and blood' - Fabrizzio, half Italian, half Polish

‘soul and blood’ – Fabrizzio, half Italian, half Polish

 

 

 

 

Fabrizzio's daughter, celebrating her first day at school

Fabrizzio’s daughter, celebrating her first day at school

 

 

 

 

Part 2: Sommerfest

I’d seen flyers pinned up around the place advertising a ‘Sommerfest’ in a nearby colony, Kolonie Jungfernheide. With promises of ‘musik und tanz’ (music and dance) we were in.

When we turned up the 80s disco music was blaring but the dancefloor was empty. Instead of having a wiggle, the residents of Kolonie Jungfernheide were focused on winning a stuffed bear, either through an overly complicated ticket system or by picking up a rifle and shooting something.

Clearly we had left Berlin, the world’s hip capital, and were somewhere else entirely.

 

welcome to the Jungfernheide Colony

welcome to the Jungfernheide Colony

 

 

 

 

eat, drink, try to win a bear, and be merry

eat, drink, try to win a bear, and be merry

 

 

 

 

shoot and win

shoot and win

 

 

 

 

aiming to win a bear

aiming to win a bear

 

 

 

 

love bear

love bear

 

 

 

 

white bear

white bear

 

 

 

 

big bear - Judy scores

big bear – Judy scores

 

 

 

 

Not everyone could win the bears though. Consolation prizes included bubbles.

 

bubbles

bubbles

 

 

 

 

Adding to the rather surreal feel of the day was Judy. Judy told Coco and I that she was originally from the Philippines but now lived with her German husband in Kolonie Jungfernheide. She took a shine to Coco and, well, wouldn’t leave her alone. Coco, she’s a cute kid, but it was just a little weird.

 

Judy takes a photo behind the bubble

Judy takes a photo of Coco from behind a bubble

 

 

 

 

As the Sommerfest was winding down – 7ish – we met Wolfgang. Initially it was his badged-hat that attracted me. But as I started snapping I couldn’t help wonder who he reminded me of…

 

Wolfgang

Wolfgang

 

 

 

Then it hit me. Gartenzwerg – the garden gnomes of the garden colonies. I mean, sure, no red hat and Wolfgang is a little taller, but aside from that he’s a real life gartenzwerg.

 

Gartenzwerg - Wolfgang and friend

Gartenzwerg – Wolfgang and friend

 

 

 

 

Garden gnomes have a long history in Germany and abound in Berlin’s kleingartenkolonien. Having never given them a second thought I was compelled to look more carefully at them given their abundance. My favourite one, I decided, is below, riding a pig.

 

 

where gnomes rule

where gnomes rule

 

 

 

 

Finally it was time to leave the disco tunes, the stuffed bears, Judy, Wolfgang and the gnomes, and wander home. Just as things were hotting up on the dancefloor. Or not.

 

dancing with his daughter

dancing with his daughter

 

 

 

 

shadows dancing

shadows dancing

 

 

 

 

Part 3: Arno and his hedge

On our last visit to North Charlottenburg’s garden colonies, we met Arno. I noticed his hedges first – how could you not? They were beautifully turned and quite unlike anything else in the Lilliput-esque world.

Like Erika and Gunther, Arno has had his allotment for more than 50 years and was an equally good advertisement for the health benefits of gardening – he’s 83.

 

the hedge-man - Arno's been taming nature here for 56 years

the hedge-man – Arno’s been taming nature here for 56 years

 

 

 

 

Arno and friends

Arno and friends

 

 

 

 

one-third of the space must be planted with fruit and vegetables

one-third of the space must be planted with fruit and vegetables

 

 

 

 

Arno with his address book - 'see, here, this is my brother's address in Baulkham Hills'

Arno with his address book – ‘see, here, this is my brother’s address in Baulkham Hills, Sydney!’

 

 

 

 

evening falls on Arno's hedges

evening falls on Arno’s hedges

 

 

 

 

Part 3: Gates, letter boxes and flags – lots of flags

The garden colonies of North Charlottenburg are happy places. Fruit drips off trees, over-sized sunflowers stand tall. Letter-boxes and flags smile.

 

one way or another the sun is always shining in the kleingartenkolonien

one way or another the sun is always shining in the kleingartenkolonien

 

 

 

 

purple

purple

 

 

 

 

flower eyes

flower eyes

 

 

 

 

happy birthday Max

happy birthday Max

 

 

 

 

I did wonder though, how would a non-ethnic German get on here? The German flags are as abundant as the garden gnomes and I didn’t see a single non-ethnic German. Until the last visit when we met Shnor. Originally from Iraq, Shnor and her family moved here when she was 14. There are doctors in the family and she has two degrees. She speaks fluent German and runs her own business. But still she says she’s treated differently, especially here in the close quarters of the kleingartenkolonien.

 

flying the flag :: 1

flying the flag :: 1

 

 

 

 

flying the flag :: 2

flying the flag :: 2

 

 

 

 

flying the flag :: 3

flying the flag :: 3

 

 

 

 

Part 4: Gedenkstätte Plötzensee

As I mentioned earlier, the garden colonies are sandwiched between two churches and a prison memorial, all of which commemorate those who were killed by the Nazis for actively objecting to the regime.

I visited the churches first as they’re on the way to the garden colonies. One of them, the Protestant church, is designed around a small, central cell-like window and is filled with highly evocative paintings that depict the incarceration and awful death (hanging or guillotine) of the Nazi opponents.

The churches serve their purpose of making sure no one forgets. But it wasn’t until I saw the Gedenkstätte Plötzensee (Plötzensee Memorial) that I was really freaked out by the sheer horror of what happened. They’ve kept the room where 2,500 men and women were executed for their beliefs. At the far end there are some flowers and a couple of wreaths sitting on the floor under the meat hooks that were once used for hanging. Although the back area is cordoned off I felt compelled to take a closer look at the wreaths. One was dedicated to Heinz Koch from his son and family. The wreath isn’t new but it can’t be that old either. Just the thought of his son going there to lay it and seeing the room where his dad was either hung or guillotined…

On the way back to the U-Bahn we walked past the garden colonies, bursting at the seams with energy and life. Having just left so much death, it was very strange indeed.

 

it wasn't just the Jews who were persecuted by the Nazis

it wasn’t just the Jews who were persecuted by the Nazis

 

 

 

 

the memorial at the prison to those who sacrificed their lives by fighting the 'Hitler dictatorship' of 1933-1945'

the memorial at the prison to those who sacrificed their lives by fighting the ‘Hitler dictatorship’ of 1933-1945

 

 

 

 

the execution room

the execution room

 

 

 

 

families were ripped apart

families were ripped apart

 

 

 

 

'To my father Heinz Koch, in honorific commemoration. Your son Klaus, daughter-in-law Heidi and grandchildren'

‘To my father Heinz Koch, in honorific commemoration, your son Klaus, daughter-in-law Heidi and grandchildren’

 

 

 

 

life and death, side by side

life and death, side by side

 

 

 

 

The Wrap

I was so glad to have finally found some of the kleingartenkolonien that I’d heard about and to have met such lovely people as Erika, Gunther and Arno. May the garden colonies continue to overflow with fruit and flowers and not wither under pressure from developers.

And I hope too that the commemorative churches and memorial to the victims of the Nazis ensures that the memory of those people who sacrificed their lives continues to live on. I know I’ll never forget them.

 

 

 

North Charlottenburg - where they are fighting to keep gardens and memories alive

North Charlottenburg – where they are fighting to keep gardens and memories alive

 

 

 

 

dear Berlin(s), goodbye until the next time

dear Berlin(s), goodbye until the next time

 

 

 

 

Coco - 'Berlin is my favourite because it's so relaxed

Coco – ‘Berlin is my favourite because it’s so relaxed

 

 

 

 

On the ‘home front’

It’s been hectic. This week we packed up and moved out of the apartment we’ve called home for six weeks, finished photographing for this post, flew to Rome to overnight in an airport hotel before catching a nine hour flight the next morning to New York… All of which explains why this post is so late. I thought I’d be able to hit the ‘Publish’ button before we left Berlin on Tuesday but time evaporated and before I knew it, we were sitting in a New York taxi listening to loud reggae and Winston, our very chatty and learned Jamaican taxi driver.

So ‘auf wiedersehen’ and ‘tschüs’ Berlin. You’re fascinating and strange and so much more than just the cool, hip – cheap – city they say you are. At times I found you horrifying and saddening, then surprising and uplifting. And even when I didn’t know quite what to think or feel, I always found you interesting.

I can’t wait to come back in ten, twenty, thirty years time to see how you turned out.

And Coco, well, she tells me you’re her favourite city so far – because you’re “so relaxed”. And I thought it was just because of the frankfurters.

 —

This suburb has been brought to you by Samantha Heron

 —

It’s already Thursday and we’ve just arrived in New York. So the next post will be either Friday or Monday week. See you then.

 

28

Marzahn

M intro

 

Ask anyone living in former West Berlin what there is to see in the eastern suburb of Marzahn and they’re almost certain to say, nichts – nothing. Well, nothing except a whole load of grim housing estates.

Press them further and they might also mention that the place is crawling with Vietnamese cigarette-smuggling mafia, neo-Nazis and Russian-German immigrants who don’t necessarily all get on.

Marzahn has such a bad reputation in fact that in 2007, local residents were prepared to strip off and pose nude in a calendar with the slogan, ‘Everyone is different — all are the same’. Obviously the calendar didn’t work – most people still view the area as bad voodoo.

But you know, you hear a lot of bad things about a lot of places (Tarlabasi in Istanbul springs to mind). I was curious, was it as bleak as everyone made out?

Some history: Marzahn is in the east of Berlin, 15-30 minutes from the city centre depending how you travel. It’s a borough (half of Marzahn-Hellersdorf) as well as being a neighbourhood within that borough. Like much of Berlin, Marzahn the neighbourhood was a separate village pre-1920, before being incorporated into Berlin. In 1949 it became part of East Berlin. Between 1976 and the late 80s it was transformed into a massive housing estate by the GDR. Today, the area is one of the least ethnically diverse – but with more Russian, Kazakh and Vietnamese people compared to other parts of the city.

Okay, let’s do it.

 

Part 1: Suburban life

Before I committed to the area, I decided to do a quick recce. But as the S-Bahn train rolled into Marzhan on a greyish Monday, I did wonder, whose idea was this again? What if a gang of neo-Nazis didn’t like the cut of my jib, or if the Vietnamese lads took a fancy to my camera?

We hit the mall first. Not a neo-Nazi or Vietnamese cigarette-smuggler in sight. Instead my first visual was of largish people eating enormous ice-cream sundaes, kids running past with free yellow balloons, women getting their nails hand-painted by the Thai girls at ‘Pretty Nails’. I wasn’t in scary east Berlin – I was in Sydney’s Liverpool.

Suburban, in other words, and so different to anywhere else in Berlin that I’d been so far.

For that reason alone, I decided it was on – Marzahn would be Suburb No 28.

For our first real visit to the area we took the tram, one of 21 tram lines in Berlin that are mostly in the former East. They’re a good way to see stuff and, as it turned out, meet people.

 

tram lines - from the city centre to Marzhan

tram lines – from the city centre to Marzhan

 

 

 

The first people we talked to were Katja and Paul, two social workers in their twenties. They were both born in former East Berlin and still lived in the east, but not in Marzahn itself. What intrigued me was how deeply they identified as East Berliners – they were only three years old when the Wall came down so theoretically they grew up in a re-unified city, where there was no longer an East or West.

But as I talked to them, the penny started to drop – there may not be a Wall anymore but there’s still an East and a West. Katja and Paul explained that they would never live in ‘West’ Berlin – “They’re a little arrogant.”

What was also interesting is that it’s easy to assume that everyone in the former East fled to the former West as soon as the Wall came down. But it’s not that simple. Katja and Paul were in Marzahn to visit Katja’s dad who has never left the area; despite everything, it’s his home.

 

Katja and Paul

Katja and Paul

 

 

 

 

on the M8 to Marzahn

flying along on the M8 to Marzahn

 

 

 

 

Paul - they may say it's one but there's still two Berlins

is Berlin one?

 

 

 

 

Next we met Inga. I found out that she lives in Marzahn but not much more – we couldn’t speak eachother’s language. How long had she lived there? What did she think? I’ll never know.

 

Inga waits

Inga waits

 

 

 

 

We then met two young ‘Russian German’ girls. They were seconds away from hopping on a tram so I didn’t have time to get their names or their stories. But when I quickly asked them if they were German, they replied, “Russian German”. Which means they’re the descendents of ethnic Germans who moved to Russia a few hundred years ago. Since the late 1980s they’ve been allowed to return to Germany and many now live in Marzahn. But because the German language was banned in the USSR, a lot of them don’t speak German anymore. How strange would that be?

 

Russian German dolls

Russian German dolls

 

 

 

 

Part 2: The unexpected

When I asked various people what there was to see in Marzahn, no one mentioned Gärten der Welt – Gardens of the World. Maybe they’d heard of it but having never been, assumed it must be some crappy tourist thing. I kind of did. I read about it somewhere and thought, well, better have a look but it’ll probably be dinky.

Not so. It was so impressive that Coco and I spent hours wandering around the various gardens, which include Chinese, Japanese, Balinese and Korean.

What made it really special were the people we met there. I’d expected to see shaven heads in Marzahn but not these ones…

 

earthly pleasure - eating ice-cream

earthly pleasure – eating ice-cream

 

 

 

15 year old Manop, above, and his friends are Thai Buddhist trainee monks. While they live in south Berlin, they were having a day out in the sun. I discovered them as I went in search of water for Coco and I – there they were, a blur of saffron, eating ice-cream. And that’s how we ended up wandering around the Gärten der Welt with a whole load of Thai monks-to-be. I was especially taken by 10 year old Dominique; half Thai, half German, he was cheeky-polite-serene, all at the same time.

 

saffron blur - Dominique

saffron blur – Dominique

 

 

 

 

clearing the mind

clearing the mind

 

 

 

 

meditative Marzahn

meditative Marzahn

 

 

 

 

the Buddhist in the Christian Garden

the Buddhist in the Christian Garden

 

 

 

 

monk in a maze :: 1

monk in a maze :: 1

 

 

 

 

monk in a maze :: 2

monk in a maze :: 2

 

 

 

 

the end - group hug

the end – group hug

 

 

 

 

Other images from the Gardens of the World…

 

I wonder if there's any fish under those lily pads

I wonder if there’s any fish under those lily pads

 

 

 

 

Asia in Berlin

Asia in Berlin

 

 

 

 

Confucius says, wow, you would never have seen someone wearing that in East Berlin just 25 years ago

Confucius says, wow, you would never have seen someone wearing that in East Berlin 25 years ago

 

 

 

 

maze

maze

 

 

 

 

Part 3: Those housing estates

You know I like a massive building or a well-designed public housing estate.

But unlike Hong Kong’s Lai Tak Tsuen or Berlin’s Hansaviertel or Gropiusstadt, where the buildings have been individually designed and are not on a massive – like really massive – scale, East Berlin’s housing estates are cookie-cutter and relentless. A friend who visited a few weeks ago told me she flew over what looked like handfuls of giant letters – judging from the Google Earth image below, I think she was peering down at Marzahn.

Wandering around some of the buildings all I could think was, if life here seems depressing today, how bad must it have been between 1961 and 1989, when the Wall was up? At least now you can look forward to a nice dinner in your not so nice apartment – maybe pick up a little exotic something from the local Vietnamese markets – but back then it was just pickles and potatoes.

(Remember Birgit from Friedrichshain? She told me about the East Berlin pensioners who were allowed to visit the West during that period; they would return home quite traumatised after seeing the bountiful offerings in the food department of KaDeWe, West Berlin’s version of London’s Harrods. I thought at least they could have a good feed while they were there – but they were too poor and their marks were worth nothing against the Wests’. Gut-wrenching, literally.)

Part of the problem is the housing estates consist of Plattenbautenbuildings made from mass-produced pre-cast concrete slabs, up to 22 stories high. After the war when the alternative was overcrowded, partially bombed pre-war housing, they were highly prized. Today I imagine their only appeal is that they’re cheap.

But hang on, isn’t this project meant to be about finding the beauty and/or the positives in places you might not expect them?

Okay, I’ll give it my best shot… Some of the Plattenbauten have been modernised, painted cheery colours, cut down in size (easy when you’re dealing with modular slabs). There’s a lot of greenery around, not to mention the beautiful Gardens of the World. And – yes, there’s more – there’s loads of space and pretty good facilities for young families.

If you live in one of the blocks managed by the company Degewo, there’s even a “noise police” amongst other “authorities” to “provide for order and security”.

 

alphabet city

alphabet city (Google Earth image)

 

 

 

 

'original condition' - prefabricated Plattenbau

‘original condition’ – Plattenbau

 

 

 

 

'tropical feel' - renovated Plattenbauten

‘tropical feel’ – renovated Plattenbau

 

 

 

 

'close to transport'

‘close to transport’

 

 

 

 

'pets allowed'

‘pets allowed’

 

 

 

 

But no matter what they do to improve the aesthetics or how many Gardens of the World they build, there are still major problems in Marzahn. At the local mall we met a couple who live here, Gina and Rob. (Just like Katja and Paul, Gina thinks of herself as an East Berliner, despite the fact she’s lived for 23 of her 25 years in a re-unified city. Nor does she like those in the west particularly – “They act like they’re better.”)

They explained that one of the real problems was the lack of entertainment options for young adults.  Without any bars even, they tend to sit around the streets, drinking, doing drugs. They also said there were too many immigrants – Russians and Vietnamese in particular. (They didn’t mention the neo-Nazis but I can’t imagine they like the immigrants much either.)

 

live with passion - Gina, Rob and Lady

live with passion – Gina, Rob and Lady

 

 

 

 

east Berliners through and through

East Berliners through and through

 

 

 

 

Feeling slightly gloomy about the place, we headed back to town. But not before we’d had a little ray of sunshine come our way care of a bright yellow Trabant or Trabi – the car that was manufactured by the GDR. The first thing I did when I saw it? Poked my finger at it; the Trabant is known as the ‘plastic’ car, a mixture of formica and bakelite, so I wondered what it felt like. It was surprisingly hard – for a plastic car.

 

the most East German of all cars, the Trabant

the most East German of all cars, the Trabant

 

 

 

 

I'll swap you my nice curry chicken for your Trabant

I’ll swap you my nice curry chicken for your Trabant

 

 

 

 

Part 4: Still no neo-Nazis or Vietnamese mafia

Instead I found some punks. Loads of them. Because sleepy ole’ Marzahn was putting its mohawk on for a few days, hosting a punk music festival, Resist to Exist.

I met some of them outside the mall, there to refuel before heading back over to the festival.

 

refueling at the mall

refueling at the mall – Laura and co

 

 

 

 

where there's smoke there's fire

where there’s smoke there’s fire

 

 

 

 

exotic

exotic

 

 

 

 

Jacqueline

Jacqueline

 

 

 

 

pretty in punk - Sed

pretty in punk – Sed

 

 

 

 

When I asked them all where the festival was exactly, they sort of threw their arms around and said vaguely, over there. So I could be wrong but it would appear they were happily partying near a former Roma concentration camp. It was 1936 and Berlin was about to host the Olympic Games. Hitler didn’t want Berlin’s Roma gypsies around so he had them rounded up and taken to a field in Marzahn sandwiched between a cemetery and a sewage dump. They stayed there until they were deported to Auschwitz in 1943.

There’s a memorial stone in the cemetery commemorating the Roma camp.

It reads: ‘From May 1936 until the liberation of our people by the glorious Soviet Army suffered in a camp not far from here hundreds of nationals of the Sinti. Honor to the victims’.

 

 

partying near the former Roma concentration camp

partying near the former Roma concentration camp

 

 

 

 

'memories last a lifetime' - and then some

‘memories last a lifetime’ – and then some

 

 

 

 

The cemetery itself is very sweet, if a cemetery can be sweet – full of incredibly well-tended plots. I just hope the Roma memorial has some visitors from time to time.

 

Marzhan Cemetery

Marzahn Cemetery

 

 

 

 

On the last day we visited a great big storm was brewing in the distance. It suited the place – dark, moody Marzahn.

 

calm before the (hail) storm

calm before the (hail) storm

 

 

 

 

daytrippers retreat home

daytrippers retreat home

 

 

 

 

The Wrap

Well, I never did find a neo-Nazi nor any Vietnamese cigarette-smuggling mafia. (I did try and photograph some Vietnamese if you’re wondering – they politely refused.) But I found monks and punks, and that rare specimen, the Trabant. Beautiful gardens from all around the world. And a memorial for a people for whom life still isn’t easy – but a whole lot better than it was in 1936.

Nothing to see in Marzahn? I beg to differ.

 

 

 

Coco in a maze

Coco in a maze

 

 

 

On the ‘home front’

“How’s the last week been for you Coco?”

“Good.”

“Why?”

“Well, I really loved the Gardens with the monks and the maze. Yeah.”

 —

This suburb has been brought to you by Karen McWilliam

 —

This is the penultimate Berlin post – next week’s will be our last. And then it’s over the Atlantic to New Yoik. Anyone keen?

 

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