Last night, I dreamed of Germany. It wasn’t the Germany of 1989 and 1990, when I spent time living there. In this dream, I had returned to Berlin, to Checkpoint Charlie, and it was all but gone. I was trying to glance back at what would have been that untouched white wall that ran the length of the East German side. I had been there when the wall had come down, had seen people carving up the Wes…