#if I figure out what to do with the 'Ihr/Euch' | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

flowercrown-bard · 3 years ago

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"Ist es zu viel verlangt in meinem eigenen Zimmer alleine sein zu wollen?" Madrigal drehte sich von dem Spiegel weg und zu der Ungewollten, die die Türe leise hinter sich schloss. "Du musst mir nicht überall hin folgen. Ob du es glaubst oder nicht, ich bin in der Lage meine Koffer selbst zu packen."

Die Ungewollte zog eine Augenbraue hoch und ließ den Blick demonstrativ über den Haufen von Kleidern, die auf Boden und Bett verstreut waren, den Fächer den Madrigal achtlos auf der Kommode abgelegt hatte und den Spiegel, über den sie hastig ein Tuch geworfen hatte, schweifen.

"Das sehe ich," sagte die Ungewollte trocken. "Aber Ihr wisst, dass ich nicht hier bin, um Euch bei solchen Kleinigkeiten zu helfen." Die Ungewollte kam näher, bedacht darauf, nicht auf die Kleider zu treten. Ihre unmenschlichen Augen waren unverwandt auf Madrigal geheftet, als wolle sie durch sie hindurch in ihr Innerstes Blicken. "Ihr solltet nicht alleine gehen. Man kann nie wissen, wer einem zur Bedrohung werden kann."

Die Stimme der Ungewollten war sanft, beinahe besorgt, doch ihre Worte ließen einen Schauder über Madrigals Rücken fahren. Ohne es zu wollen, wich sie zurück, bis sie mit dem Rücken direkt vor dem verdeckten Spiegel stand.

"Ich brauche dich nicht," sagte sie und reckte das Kinn trotzig nach oben. "Ich kann auf mich selbst aufpassen."

"Könnt Ihr das?" Die Ungewollte legte den Kopf zur Seite. "Es ist meine Aufgabe Euch zu beschützen."

Und es ist meine Aufgabe den König, dem du dienst zu stürzen.

Madrigal schnaubte und verzog ihre Lippen zu einem selbstsicheren Lächeln, obwohl ihr Herz raste und sie den Schweiß ihrer Hände an ihrem Kleid abwischen musste.

"Wenn dir meine Sicherheit so am Herzen liegt, dann gib mir eine Waffe und ich bin sicher."

Ein unlesbarer Ausdruck trat in die Augen der Ungewollten. Für einen unangenehm langen Moment, starrte sie Madrigal nur unbewegt an, dann griff sie an ihren Gürtel und zog den Dolch aus der Scheide, ohne den Madrigal sie noch nie gesehen hatte, auch wenn dies das erste Mal war, dass er in Madrigal Gegenwart gezogen wurde. Madrigal blinzelte verwirrt, als die Ungewollte ihr den Dolch zudrehte, vorsichtig darauf bedacht, die Klinge nicht zu berühren.

"Gut. Beweist mir, dass Ihr Euch verteidigen könnt."

Zögerlich nahm Madrigal den Dolch, der ungewohnt in ihrer Hand lag, die sich automatisch um ihn schloss, wie um ihren Geigenbogen.

"Das ist Eisen.” Sie starrte ungläubig auf Waffe. "Du vertraust mir mit einer eisernen Waffe?"

"Ich vertraue auf Eure Unfähigkeit." Die Mundwinkel der Ungewollten zuckten und ihr Blick haftete an Madrigals Halt an dem lederumwickelten Griff der Waffe. "Wenn Ihr es schafft, mich zu verletzen, dann habe ich die Wunde verdient und lasse Euch alleine gehen."

Madrigals Atem stockte. In keiner Welt würde sie es schaffen gegen ihre Wächterin anzukommen. Aber sie hatte keine Wahl. Sie umschloss den Dolch fester mit den Fingern und trat näher an die Ungewollte, den Dolch auf ihren Bauch gerichtet. Die Ungewollte schnaubte halb verächtlich, halb amüsiert. Mit einer unmenschlich schnellen Bewegung griff sie nach dem geschlossenen Fächer auf der Kommode und hielt ihn wie ein Messer vor sich. Ihr ganzer Körper war angespannt. Trotz ihrer lächerlichen Waffe wirkte sie wie eine Raubkatze, die sich bereit machte, sich auf ihre Beute zu stürzten. Ihre Nordlicht-Augen waren verengt zu Schlitzen, Entschlossenheit brannte in ihnen – der Blick eines Kämpfers, der keine Gnade kannte.

Madrigal verkrampfte sich, ihre Brust schnürte sich zusammen, sie konnte nicht mehr atmen. Sie war wieder ein Kind, zu klein um sich selbst zu schützen, zu ängstlich um zu wissen, wohin sie rannte, nur fort – fort von den Flammen, die ihr Haus zu Asche werden ließen, fort von den Schreien derer, die aus ihren Heimen gezerrt wurden, fort von ihren Eltern, die ihr versprochen hatten, dass sie zu ihr zurückkommen würden. Das einzige Versprechen, dass sie jemals gebrochen hatten.

Madrigal handelte ohne nachzudenken. Sie machte einen Ausfallschritt nach vorne, den Dolch in der zitternden Hand so fest umklammert, dass ihre Knöchel weiß hervortraten. Noch während sie auf den Bauch der Ungewollten zielte, bereute sie es. Sie wollte niemanden töten, selbst nicht die eine Person, die ihr mehr als alle anderen im Wege stand. Sie war nicht mehr das Kind, das sie damals gewesen war. Sie war nicht hilflos und sie war nicht in Gefahr – noch nicht. Nicht solange niemand herausfand, wer sie war. Dennoch schoss der Dolch nach vorne, unaufhaltsam. Tödlich.

Der Dolch glitt an der Lederrüstung der Ungewollten ab, die sich blitzschnell zur Seite drehte. Der Fächer fuhr auf Madrigal herab, traf sie zwischen Nacken und Schulter. Der Schlag ließ ein Gefühl wie Nadeln, die sich in ihre Haut bohrten, durch den Arm fahren. Dann verlor sie jegliches Gefühl im Arm. Sie konnte nichts dagegen tun, dass sich ihre betäubten Finger von dem Dolch lösten, der klappernd zu Boden viel. In einem aussichtslosen Versuch, die Ungewollte zu Fall zu bringen, griff Madrigal mit ihrer noch funktionierenden Hand nach dem Kragen der Ungewollten, doch diese ließ den Fächer wieder nach vorne schnellen und öffnete ihn in einer flüssigen Bewegung direkt vor Madrigals Gesicht.

Madrigal hatte keine Zeit zu realisieren, was geschah. Sie kniff die Augen zusammen, und bevor sie wusste, was passierte, verlor sie das Gleichgewicht. Sie ließ die Ungewollte los und klammerte sich stattdessen an das Nächstbeste, was sie zu fassen bekam. Das Tuch, das den Spiegel verdeckte. Sie riss es mit sich herunter, als sie zu Boden ging. Madrigals Hand ballte den Stoff zusammen. Ihr Blick war starr auf den Spiegel gerichtet. Ihr Herz klopfte ihr im Hals und sie flehte stumm, dass die Ungewollte nicht in den Spiegel blicken würde. Bevor Madrigal das Tuch erneut über den Spiegel werfen konnte, legte sich etwas Kaltes an ihre Kehle. Der Dolch, den Madrigal fallen gelassen hatte, lag ruhig in der Hand der Ungewollten, auf Madrigals Hals gerichtet. Langsam hob die Ungewollte Madrigals Kinn mit dem Dolch an, sodass Madrigal gezwungen war, den Blick vom Spiegel loszureißen und in ihr Gesicht zu blicken. Die Ungewollte schaute von oben auf sie herab mit der Andeutung eines Lächelns.

“Glaubt Ihr noch immer, dass Ihr euch selbst schützen könnt?” Die Ungewollte hob die Klinge von Madrigals Kehle und strich ihr damit stattdessen beinahe liebevoll über die Wange. “Misstrauen gegen andere könnt Ihr Euch nur leisten, wenn Ihr in eure eigenen Fähigkeiten vertrauen könnt, kleiner Frühlingsvogel.”

Madrigals Atem stockte. Der Name, der die Lippen der Ungewollten in einem Flüstern verließ, dröhnte in Madrigals Ohren wie Donnergrollen.

Sie kennt mich, schoss es ihr durch den Kopf und ihr Blut gefror ihr in den Adern. Sie weiß wer ich bin.

Eine Bewegung aus dem Augenwinkel, ließ ihren Blick wieder zu dem Spiegel huschen, in dem nur die Ungewollte zu sehen war, die ihren Dolch auf Nichts gerichtet zu haben schien. Und für einen Herzschlag, so kurz, dass niemand außer Madrigal es bemerkt hätte, erschien das missbilligende Gesicht von Aelrhy im Spiegel, wo Madrigal sein sollte.

#so apparently I'm writing orinigal stuff now #none of this makes sense without the context #and apparently I'm also writing in German #it feels so weird not to write in english #maybe I'll translate it later idk #if I figure out what to do with the 'Ihr/Euch'#anyways #this is what I wrote for my seminar and it's three times as long as it's supposed to be #my writing

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gettin-bi-bi-bi · 4 years ago

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Hi Maddie,

First of all, I really appreciate the amazing work you do on this blog! Second, I think I have a similar issue as your German anon who feels like she can only see herself in a relationship with a man as a man (while being a queer cis woman). I don’t know if I still feel this way in the same way, but it is definitely something I’ve struggled with in the past. I don’t have any solutions or anything, and can’t say I have anything figured out, but if she’d like someone to talk to about this who knows what it feels like, I’d be happy to in any way she’s comfortable with. If not, no problem!

A Dutch anon

Thanks for everything!

en nou een Nederlandse anon, wat mooi. waroom komen er vandaag zo veele vragen van mensen wiens taal ik begrijp? maar mijn Nederlands is een beetje shit, ik spreek het niet zoo goed.

anyway.... @ German anon: unsere Nachbarin bietet dir auch Kontakt an - dazu müsst aber mal mindestens eine von euch irgendwie off anon kommen, damit ihr euch connected könnt.

I'd offer both if you (if our German anon is interested) to send me a message off anon so I can give you each other's usernames. Don't worry, I'll keep them to myself and not publish it.

Maddie

#most multi lingual post I've ever made fdnbkjfnbkfgb

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janaonthepct · 6 years ago

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Why I’m leaving the trail...

Wow. What a way to start off a blog post guys, am I right? To keep the story arch intact and to possibly annoy you a bit longer with the question of whether the headline actually means what you think it means, let's start where we left off last time:

Day - I don't really know what day it was - at mile 152 sitting at the Paradise Valley Cafe devouring a typical American breakfast: pancakes, eggs and bacon. We had left camp pretty early in the morning to cruise down the last 10ish miles to the Cafe fast enough to have breakfast at an appropriate time because everyone told us it's definitely worth the 1 mile detour off of the trail and because we were craving a proper breakfast. Let's say this: they didn't lie ;)

We were going so fast that I even missed the 150-mile marker of the trail. Oh well, technically these little markers aren't supposed to be there anyways. A big principle on the trail is the LNT - leave no trace - principle and apparently even rearranging stones to form a number is too much of a trace to have. But the big milestones usually still have them anyways. We arrived at the Cafe where we met a ton of other PCT hikers that had started that day with the same idea as us. Talking to them we heard a lot of rumors and reports of the upcoming miles being decently sketchy and snowy enough to be needing micro spikes and possibly even an ice axe. Stories were going around of people having fallen off of ridges, getting injured and helicopter rescues and everyone was starting to worry and having to estimate the personal risk they were willing to take.

Every time we got out of the mountains and off of the trail at least for me it has been a very overwhelming experience. On the trail I barely used my phone, for one because I didn't really have that much cell service anyways and also because I enjoyed being fully out there without all the noise and distractions of modern technology. Some people enjoy hiking with music or podcasts, I literally only used my phone to take pictures and to locate myself with GPS to keep track of the trail and where to get water and such. So whenever we'd end up in a "more civilized" place, meaning a town or a restaurant, immediately many things would happen at once and in a very condensed time: While trying to get some proper food into your system, you are also faced with figuring out the next steps (whether that means where to hike to further that day, booking a room in a town or figuring out all the things you need to resupply on), your phone is going insane with a ton of messages, there is a lot of noise and people around you (more then you usually experience in one or two full days on trail), you’re probably also contemplating whether you already smell so bad that a shower and a laundry are needed and at the same time you are socializing with all the other hikers you haven't seen in a couple days exchanging stories of things you've seen or heard or comparing gear and food choices.

Back at Paradise Valley Cafe I was still chewing on my bacon and pancakes while Zack had already decided with Paul and Alex to hitch into Idyllwild quickly to grab some new micro spikes to tackle the upcoming section that afternoon, Nadine had already organized a ride from an amazing trail angel Jodie (we had met her at the barbecue before Warner springs) to get back to San Diego, where she was going to rent a car for the last couple days she'd be in the US before heading back the UK (she had only intended to hike the first two weeks with Paul and had done so amazingly covering over 150 miles!) and I was left with a difficult decision: I could either continue hiking with the boys, either having to buy new micro spikes in Idyllwild as well or not going with any spikes and risking injuries and sliding off or I could take the ride to San Diego with Nadine and wait for my micro spikes. I thought I wouldn't need them until the Sierras (the big mountains in Central California) and had left them in my friend's car and Olive had left the US to go to Mexico for a couple days so I had to wait for her to get back before getting to the car... (it's a long story I know)

Since Zack was already on his way to Idyllwild and I also didn't fully see a point in getting new micro spikes since mine were so close and perfectly fine also (yes, this is my German side speaking), I decided to join Nadine for the ride back to San Diego and luckily had an amazing friend there which was spontaneous and kind enough to let me stay at her place for another two nights after only getting notified literally 10 minutes before I was planning to leave the Cafe (you are the best Allison!). So here I was, back at the starting point in San Diego, two weeks and 150 miles later. I was kind of glad Olive was still in Mexico because that gave me three days off of the trail to get some perspective and to figure some things out.

Let me preface this by saying two things: 1. I absolutely LOVED every minute and every step of the trail! 2. None of what I'm writing here has to make any sense to anybody else, it's just some truths I have found to be fitting at the current time and place for me.

Ever since I stepped foot on the trail I was having a wonderful time. Being out there, living simply, being active and challenging your body, meeting like-minded people and having space for yourself, it just all made perfect sense to me. I realized I'm great at doing these things too and enjoy them a lot. I also realized some other things though. But since I don’t want to turn this blogpost into a novel (it’s getting there I know) here’s the short summary: - Although I’ve been having a grand time on the trail I just realized that I am currently in a point of my life where I want to commit to something, get working and stay somewhere for a while. I realized finishing the trail might not get me any further in knowing what a next step could be and instead of avoiding this decision, I knew I wanted to take action now. - I want to give back rather then receive. The trail is so much based around receiving help and kindness, which makes it very special. I feel like I am at a place in my life right now where I am capable of giving and I want to use that knowledge and spread joy. I guess I want to be on the giving end. - As much as this might be a once in a lifetime experience or chance I don’t feel like it has to be and I know that this isn’t going to be my last time going to the US and seeing all my amazing friends here again. So, I didn’t feel like this chapter really needed closure or a full stop. Instead I just absolutely rejoiced in reuniting with friends here, exploring new places and remembering old ones.

Anyways. Here I was having found these truths but also still really enjoying the trail and my hiking group. After Olive got back from Mexico we talked some more about it and came to the conclusion that I was going to reunite with my hiking group for a couple more days and then leave the trail from Big Bear Lake, a small hiker town in the mountains just off of the trail. The boys had successfully conquered San Jacinto in those days so I joined them about 50 miles later in Cabazon and did another 70-80 miles with them. And what a beautiful and rewarding 4 days those were. The landscape was absolutely gorgeous, we had super-hot desert, river crossings, snow and below freezing temperatures all within 24 hours. Lots of elevation gain and loss, lots of wind, lots of beautiful valleys and outlooks, lots of flowers and lizards. We got to Big Bear and had another full Zero day together. It was a wonderful way for me to come to an (at least temporary) end of the trail. I never wanted to leave on a bad note hating the experience, getting injured or feeling homesick or whatever. The trail and everything it entails has been nothing but outstanding and I am very grateful for this! It was hard to say goodbye to the boys but I hope it’s more of a “see you again very soon”. I am now their personal cheering squad.

(Some impressions from the last days on trail and saying goodbye to the boys)

I’ve been off of the trail for about 10 days now. Me and Olive had a super fun week together driving a little bit of the distance back north, meeting friends and also having a couple days just as the two of us roadtripping. We went to Santa Barbara, back to Monterey and then had two days in San Francisco and Point Reyes (a super cool national park right across San Francisco over the Golden Gate bridge). I then took the train back north to Portland where I had two days exploring a bit more and spending time with special and beautiful people and now I’ve been back in Port Townsend. I’m leaving the US next Monday, flying to London (because there were no good straight flights to Germany but also mainly because that means I get to see Nadine again, see London for the first time and even meet some other dear friends who live there). I will have another week there and then I am BAAAACK.

Super stoked to see you all again and to get started. The adventure definitely isn’t over. More steps coming. Let me know if you want me to keep the blog running though.

(Photos from the days after the trail)

Ihr lieben, der Blogpost ist definitiv zu lang geworden um hier eine komplette Übersetzung zu schreiben. Die zentrale Aussage: Ich komme zurück nach Deutschland :) Nicht weil mir das Wandern keinen Spaß macht, oder weil etwas Schlimmes passiert ist, sondern einfach weil ich gemerkt habe dass ich aktuell lieber einen nächsten Schritt in meinem Leben gehen will und an einem Ort ankommen will. Ich erzähle euch gerne mehr dazu, wenn wir uns mal wieder in Person treffen. Bin ab Anfang Mai wieder in Deutschland, nach einem kurzen Zwischenstopp in London. Freue mich euch wiederzusehen!!! Cheers, Jana

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dustedmagazine · 6 years ago

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Why Brecht Now? Vol. I: Lotta Lenya sings “Wie Mann Sich Bettet”

Jonathan Shaw has been listening closely to the songs of Bertolt Brecht over the last few months. There’s no livelier contemporary observer of the rise of 20th-century fascism in Europe and — excepting the critical theorists of the Frankfurt School, especially Adorno and Benjamin — none smarter, either. Given the reactionary state of our current national and international politics, we should all be listening closely. Over the next couple of months, Shaw will write about a few of Brecht’s most incisive songs, presented in some of their most effective performances.

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“Wie Mann Sich Bettet” is one of the most famous tunes from Brecht’s early collaboration with Kurt Weill, Aufstieg und Fall der Stadt Mahoganny, initially staged in Leipzig in March of 1930. The opera is set in America, likely somewhere on Florida’s Gold Coast. Florida was a strange fixation of Weimar Germany’s cultural imaginary, figuring an elsewhere of plenitude and utopian liberty. Brecht’s opera and its ruthless satire have other ideas: Mahoganny is established by a crew of stranded, fugitive gangsters. They want the town to be a pleasure pit of some renown, replete with high-end brothels, fancy saloons and casinos. The city of Mahoganny grows, populated mostly by prostitutes and schemers. And when a crew of lumberjacks shows up with cash to burn, the opera’s action takes off. The plot rapidly dramatizes a web of nasty betrayals, absurd murders and cynical excess. The song occurs near the end of Act Two, when Jim, one of the lumberjacks and the closest thing to a protagonist the opera musters, has come up short of cash after a night of revelry. He asks his sometime girlfriend and whoring sharpy, Jenny, to loan him the money. She sings the tune, giving Jim the kiss-off—and in so doing, keeping her stack of cash intact and condemning him to death.

Here’s the song’s German text, followed by an excellent and deft English translation, eventually sung by Dave Van Ronk:

Meine Herren, meine Mutter prägte

Auf mich einst ein schimmes Wört:

Ich würde enden im Schauhaus

Oder an einem noch schlimmern Ort.

Ja, so ein Wort, das ist leicht gesacht,

Aber ich sage euch: Daraus wird nichts!

Das köhnnt ihr nicht machen mit mir!

Was aus mir wird, das warden wir shon sehen!

Ein Mensch ist kein Teir!

Denn wie man sich bettet, so liegt man

Es deckt einen da keiner zu.

Und wenn einer tritt, dann bin ich es

Und wird einer getreten, dann bist’s du.

Meine Herren, mein Freund, der sagte

Mir damals ins Gesicht:

“Das Grösste auf Erden ist Liebe”

Und “An morgen denkt man da nicht.”

Ja, Liebe, das ist leicht gesagt:

Doch, solang man täglich älter wird

Da wird nicht nach Leibe gefragt

Da muss man seine kurze Zeit benützen.

Ein Mensch ist kein Teir!

Denn wie man sich bettet, so liegt man

Es deckt einen da keiner zu.

Und wenn einer tritt, dann bin ich es

Und wird einer getreten, dann bist’s du.

[Good people, my old mother tagged me

With a very unbecoming name:

I’d end up on a slab of marble

Or living in a house of shame.

Indeed, that’s an easy thing to say,

But believe me, things won’t end that way.

You can’t do that kind of thing to me!

My future remains for us to see.

A man is no beast!

We all make the bed we must lie in,

And tuck ourselves into it, too.

And if somebody kicks, that will be me, dear,

And if someone gets kicked, that will be you.

Good people, my lover once informed me—

He told me directly to my face:

That love is the only thing that matters,

That sweating tomorrow is a waste.

Indeed, love’s an easy word to say,

But as you go on aging every day

You just don’t give a damn for all that rot!

You hustle for the little chance you’ve got!

A man is no beast!

We all make the bed we must lie in,

And tuck ourselves into it, too.

And if somebody kicks, that will be me, dear,

And if someone gets kicked, that will be you.]

Lotta Lenya has long been associated with Mahoganny’s Jenny. Brecht composed “Alabama Song” for Lenya when he and Weill were experimenting with the Little Mahoganny in 1927, and the song went on to be one of Jenny’s featured numbers in Aufstieg und Fall der Stadt Mahoganny. “Alabama Song” is justly famed, but “Wie Man Sich Bettet” packs a more significant political punch. The recording included above is from a 1955 session in Hamburg, produced by Gerhard Lichthorn, with orchestration by Roger Bean.

As with most things in Brecht, nothing in the song is simple. It’s hard to fault Jenny for her hard-hearted individualism. Life has been cruel to her; it has rendered her unsentimental and pitiless. “Love” is just another word, as meaningless as the come-ons she gives her johns (Jim included…). But it’s also bracing to hear an early 20th-century woman, relegated to bare life at the social margins, stand up for herself: “You can’t do that kind of thing to me!” She rejects her apparent feminine fatality, denying the power of public, bourgeois standards for shame. In their place, she venerates the vitality of the “hustle” and “chance.”

But those very qualities may be corrosive to her humanity. Listen to Lenya’s voice get chilly when she sings, “Ein Mensch ist kein Teir!” It’s the key phrase in the song, and her breathy cool indicates just how much Jenny’s pragmatism has undone the statement’s intended negation: she embraces the raw logic of survival, which further bestializes her. She consigns Jim to death in order that she might prosper. All the characters in Aufstieg und Fall der Stadt Mahoganny end up alienated from one another, suspended by the opera’s end in a nefarious matrix of paranoia and mercenary impulse. Only able to perceive social relations through the distorting principal of financial transaction, the characters retreat into their separate hovels, and Mahoganny falls. More pressing, Brecht’s opera dramatizes capital’s skill at dividing the base of workers, disenfranchised lumpen, petit bourgeois schemers and otherwise abject populations, one from another—to keep them fighting over scraps while the real wealth concentrates ever more effectively in the hands of a distant, relative few. That’s the real tragedy of Jenny’s song. She only understands that “someone gets kicked,” that in her world someone must get kicked, and it’s better if it’s not her.

It’s likely that Brecht set the opera in America for satiric reasons. Weimar Germany teetered on the knife’s-edge in 1930, having already endured years of runaway inflation and crippling unemployment. When U.S. banks were rocked by the collapse of 1929, the reverberations extended to Germany, made dependent by the Dawes and Young plans on American financial largesse. Also in Germany’s 1930 elections, the Nazi party won nearly 20 percent of the seats in the Reichstag, increasing their number of representatives from 12 to 107. Ever the keen social analyst, Brecht saw the relations among disastrous financial speculation (it’s never a good thing when the stock market is the principal engine of the economy…), consequent geopolitical instability and the rise of fascism.

Now we’re in the remarkable situation of crossing back along the Atlantic waves and the century: from our U.S. and its current normalization of white nationalist politics, back to Brecht’s Weimar-period dread and anger. Let’s see what we can learn. In the U.S., we have always fetishized the category of the individual. It’s the principal resource from which we draw our myths of national character. And building out from the primary myth, we’re powerfully attached to tribalist modes of affiliation that are anchored in identities of the bloodline—family, ethnicity, race. In our politics, the most visible manifestation of individuality is executive power. No small wonder that we have allowed the chief executive’s power to grow so outsized that we expect governance by way of his order. And now the Chief Executive has turned to discourses of the tribal to buttress his power. It seems that we’ve heard this story before.

We all make the bed we must lie in.

We all do — that seems like bad news, when our shared reality is so volatile, avaricious and self-indulgent. But we all make the bed. The anger of many of Brecht’s operas and plays is meant to inspire direct action; hence the epic theater antics. The theater is a participatory space, and so is democracy (even the republican form we are struggling with in the States). We all are at stake in it. We all make it. And that means we can change it.

Jonathan Shaw

#bertolt brecht #why brecht now #lotte lenya #jonathan shaw #dusted magazine #feature

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awesomeproductsnearyou · 4 years ago

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stillthewordgirl · 8 years ago

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Fic: Triangles (Ch. 2)

After the Oculus exploded, the spark that is Leonard Snart was sent hurtling through time and space. His latest destination: The waters of the Bermuda Triangle in 1939. And a luxury liner called the Queen Anne…

(A sort-of crossover between Legends of Tomorrow and The X-Files episode “Triangle.” Mostly Snart POV.)

Continued thanks to @larielromeniel and @pir8grl for looking it over.

Note: I hope this is something both Legends and X-Files fans can enjoy, although I’ll tell you going in that it’s mostly Legends (and time-hopping Snart POV). Will be three chapters and a short optional epilogue.

Can also be read here at AO3 or here at FF.net.

The song I use here is "I Thought About You," which was first recorded in 1939, although it's been redone many times since. The version I listened to was Benny Goodman with Mildred Bailey on vocals, although the words are slightly different. It's on YouTube-just in case you want some background music. :)

The Queen Anne, 1939

As the Nazis drag Mulder from the room, he struggles to keep Scully—not-Scully?—in sight. And in doing so, he catches sight of the tall, blue-eyed guy in the tux, the one from the captain's quarters, holding out his hand to a blond woman.

Time traveler? Well, not from 1939, anyway.

"Hey!" he yells. "Hey, you! Black jacket! If you're from the future, you know these guys have to go down! Help me!"

His intended target doesn't even hear him. He's too busy steadily watching the Sara Lance doppelganger in front of him.

Her eyes have widened in surprise, before they narrow and regain that particularly chilly expression. He can almost see her calculating the odds he'll call unwanted attention to her if she refuses. (Nonexistent, but she can't know that.)

Finally, she gives him a tiny smile, accepting his hand (calluses on her sword hand, just the same) and allowing him to lead her to the dance floor.

"You wanna dance, Leonard?"

"It's the things I didn't do…"

The band slows it down just the merest bit as "Jeepers Creepers" comes to an end, and the next voice he hears causes him to start in surprise and glance over his shoulder. And, yes…yes, it is a perfect '30s-garbed version of Kendra Saunders who's standing there on the stage, singing the opening notes of a song:

"Seems that I read, or somebody said

"That out of sight is out of mind

"Maybe that's so but I tried to go

"And leave you behind, what did I find?"

His arm is around this version of Sara, and if she's not the woman he knows, not quite, he can pretend she is. It's hard not to smirk, to fall into the old habit of banter and back-and-forth, and she hasn't even spoken a word.

Somehow, they each know how the other moves.

She's smirking a little, herself, and when she speaks, he leans a little closer to hear her words.

"I don't even know your name," he hears. "But you're getting awfully familiar…"

His hand on her hip, her hand curving around his neck…

"So are you," he informs her, and sees her blink in surprise to realize that yes, yes, she is. "But…that's not even why I'm here."

Is that a flicker of disappointment? She makes a little mock moue and turns her head aside. Continuing to keep Raymond and company in sight, he knows.

"I took a trip on the train and I thought about you

"I passed a shadowy lane and I thought about you

"Two or three cars parked under the stars

"A winding stream"

"Well. Then," she tells him, "why are you here?"

He leans even closer. "Sara," he breathes into her ear, feeling the muscles of her back tense immediately beneath his hand, "whoever you're targeting, don't do it."

"Moon shining down on some little town

"And with each beam, same old dream

"At every stop that we made, oh, I thought about you

"But when I pulled down the shade, then I really felt blue"

Her eyes are fastened back on his, now, and it's unmistakable how much danger he's in.

But she just laughs, a light little chuckle, fake smile on her lips. "Silly," she says teasingly. "Now, whatever are you talking about?"

"You know what I'm talking about," he whispers. "Sara, I know you don't know me here. But I'm a...friend. Trust me. Don't do it. You're better. You're more."

And then he feels it, the tiniest, more imperceptible shift in the ship's movement. Something's happening.

Before she can pull away... or knife him... Leonard releases her, except for one hand, which he can't help raising to his lips. And she lets him.

It doesn't count as a stolen kiss, he thinks. But it's something.

"I'll be back," he tells her, dropping her cool fingers and taking a step back, two. "Please. Listen to me."

And then he turns and vanishes into the crowd.

She stares after him.

"I peeked through the crack and looked at the track

"The one going back to you, and what did I do?

"I'll leave it to you, oh what did I do?

"I thought about you"

FBI headquarters, Washington, D.C., Nov. 16, 1998

"What are you guys doing here?"

"Mulder's in trouble."

"Big trouble."

"What do you mean?"

"Let's take a walk."

"OK...where are we going?"

"The walls have ears."

"I have ears. Will you tell me what's going on?"

"Mulder's disappeared."

Back to the Queen Anne, Sept. 3, 1939

Leonard stoops to pick up a fallen officer's hat from the ballroom floor as he leaves the ballroom. Not perfect camouflage, certainly not paired with a tux, but enough that a casual glance might flicker over him.

He's a few decks down, trying to figure out the way to the boiler rooms, when an approaching ruckus has him ducking behind some equipment—and shaking his head when he hears the indignant voice pitched to carry over the noise.

"I got two words for you, buddy—Pearl Harbor!"

Are you kidding me? He winces at the thought of the potential timeline damage... then winces again at the fact that he did so.

After thinking a moment, he ducks his head and falls into step behind the mixed group of sailors and one Fox Mulder as Nazi soldiers herd them along.

"After Poland, Hitler's on his way to Denmark, Holland and France with a few stops in between," Mulder continues blithely. "The French all but roll over on us, the Italians seize their opportunity and the Japanese come through the back door. It's a long, bloody story. It fortunately has a happy ending."

"We win?"

"Yeah, you come out on the side of history with no small amount of help from us. Not much to apologize for over the next 50 years except for maybe the Spice Girls."

Leonard snorts at that, but they're at a new door now, and all of them are motioned through, even the extra, who pulls his hat down and moves to the edges of the room as soon as he can.

"Schnauze halten, verdammt noch mal! Raus mir euch! Vorwaerts, worauf wartet ihr? Mach schon! Los!"

The door is locked behind them, but they're in an engine room, a fact that makes him smile in satisfaction. Because near the engine room, there will be the boiler rooms. In the boiler rooms, there will be fire.

And when there's fire, he'll almost always find...

"...Thor's Hammer. You know what that is, mate?"

The term, however, stops him in his tracks.

Because abruptly now he knows, oh, he knows, what's been up with the Raymond and Stein doppelgangers. And who Sara is targeting.

...don't do it...

The sailors and some of the crewmen are getting into it now, and he starts edging away again, toward the boilers, as more of the crewmen emerge to see what the chaos is about.

"Thor's Hammer isn't a weapon!" Mulder's voice rises behind him. "It's a man, a man who will help build a weapon—a bomb that'll win the war for whoever has it! … I saw him! In the ballroom."

Leonard is jogging now, dodging crewmen through the boiler rooms, scanning the light and the shadows. And suddenly, there, shoveling coal and illuminated in the light of a boiler, is the man he's been looking for. Or, at least a man who looks just the same.

"Mick!"

The big man turns to look at him, and Leonard can't keep the grin off his face, even if this isn't really Mick, isn't really the man he's known for 30 years. This is backup, this is the closest thing he has to a brother…

"The 'ell are yeh?"

Irish accent, here, a strong one to go with the "Rory" inherited from Irish immigrant ancestors. Or maybe not ancestors, at this point. He stops, drags in a breath, puts both hands out in a gesture of supplication.

"Look, I know you don't recognize me here and now," he tells Mick's doppelganger. "But I know I can count on you. This ship can't go to Germany."

A cry rises up behind them, and Leonard frowns, then clarifies, "Or Jamaica."

An incredulous frown, and then a snort of amusement. Mick turns to pitch another shovelful of coal into the boiler.

"Listen to me!" Leonard grabs the other man's battered sleeve, dancing back to avoid the swing of a fist. "If this ship goes to Germany, the Nazis—I know you hate Nazis—will get their hands on...on a weapon. One that will win the war for them. And I know you know about the war coming, because you always pay way more attention than anyone thinks."

That earns him a pause and a considering look. Mick shakes his head, then leans on his shovel.

"Look," he tells Leonard, "don't know who the 'ell yeh think I am, or why yer talkin' to me 'bout this, but I'm nah hero."

"Look, I get that. I…" He throws an annoyed glance backward as the crowd around Mulder gets even more rambunctious. "I just know you won't want to let the Nazis win. Am I right?

A gleam in Mick's eyes. "Keep talkin'."

"Like that lunatic's telling them." Leonard jerks his head toward Mulder. "Turn the ship around and head back the way you came."

"They got words for doin' things like that, man. Like 'mutiny.' "

"Since when do you give a shit for rules?" He's about to retort further, but there are new voices rising, and they're not speaking English. He moves behind Mick, who glances at him and shakes his head but doesn't comment.

"Du! Der Amerikaner!" one of the Nazis calls. "Du kommst mit uns, rauf hier. Ja, mit kommen."'

They grab Mulder and start hauling him off, and even Leonard will give him some credit: he doesn't go easily.

"Turn the ship around," the Fed calls out, struggling, "or Hitler rises, Germany wins and your children will never know what freedom is!"

Once they're out the door, Leonard draws another breath and moves out into the open again.

"Melodramatic," he tells Mick, "but true. I have to go. I hope…" He hesitates. "I hope we meet again. I'm trusting you."

And then he takes off, ignoring Mick calling after him, heading for the opposite end of the ship, for the ballroom and Sara and Raymond and Jax and Stein...

Thor's Hammer.

There's no music in the ballroom now. Just a frightened silence. The passengers stare at the Nazis, who are holding Mulder near the front of the room. "Achtung!" one calls and, indeed, everyone's attention is on the scene.

Everyone but one. Now, two.

Leonard skirts around to the back, searching, searching. And there they are. Stein and Jax are in the back, in the shadows, Raymond continuing to stand in front of them, between them and the Nazis, an obdurate look on his face. But the danger he doesn't see is the one that's closest, just a few feet away, lovely and blond and deadly.

"Aufstehen. Mach schnell! Get up! Er sagte..."

"Wir haben einen mann an bord, einen wissenschaftler der weiss wie man eine bombe macht die den krieg gewinnin wird. Frag ihn, wer dieser mann ist."

Sara's whole attention is focused on that little group near her, not the Nazis; she's not even pretending anymore, but Raymond is too distracted to see it.

Leonard does. He sees the tiny pistol she's holding and where it's pointed, and he moves to her side, breathes into her ear, courting danger and knowing it.

"Sara," he tells her, again. "Sara, don't do it."

A muscle jumps in her jaw, but she ignores him.

Toward the front of the room, one of the Nazis translates for his superior. "There's a scientist on board who can make a bomb. Who is this man?"

"I don't know," Mulder tells him.

There's the distinct sound of a gun being cocked and much of the crowd gasps.

Sara doesn't even twitch. And she doesn't look at him. She moves a tiny bit, lining up her shot a little better. Leonard spares a glance. Raymond and Stein and Jax...they're still oblivious.

"Who contracted you to do this?" he asks her quietly. "Or is the League doing it on its own?"

Now she twitches. "How do you know..." A shake of her head. "No matter. I will do what I have to. And then I will take care of you."

Toward the front of the room: "Sag ihm, wir werden einen passagier umbringen fuer jede falsche antwort."

"You will answer the question or we will begin killing passengers," the translator says. "Which one is the scientist?"

"I don't know," Mulder says again.

"Schiess ihn."

A gun goes off. One of the passengers falls. Many of the rest are crying, horrified. Raymond looks shaken. Stein is talking to him, now, quickly. Jax is trying to see what's going on.

Sara, Leonard thinks, has her shot. But still, she doesn't take it.

"The Germans cannot get him," she says, as if to herself.

"Frag ihn, wie viele personen er sterben lasst," says the Nazi leader. "How many lives are you willing to sacrifice?" says his translator.

"None," Mulder tells him. But seconds later, there's another shot, more gasps and cries of terror.

The redhead, the same one Mulder had been bothering before, gets involved now. From what Leonard can tell, she gets right in the Nazi translator's face. "Stop! This man has no answers," she tells him fiercely. "You're killing innocent people to learn that he knows nothing!"

At a few words from the Nazi commander, the translator aims his gun right at her head. She glares at him. Leonard winces. The woman has nerve.

Mulder apparently can't take it, though. "I'll answer the question," he says, and then points down the first man the Nazis killed. "That man is the scientist."

An indrawn breath from Sara. Leonard leans toward her again.

"But he's not," he tells her fiercely. "I don't know if he's a distraction or a substitute or even if he thinks he's the one they're after, but he's not." He nods toward Stein. "He's the real Thor's Hammer, isn't he? And you think you have to kill him."

She looks at him now, and her eyes are distraught. "I have to," she tells him. "I have to save the future."

#x-files #legends of tomorrow #fanfic #captain canary

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twistednuns · 8 years ago

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March 2017

Passer une semaine merveilleuse à Paris avec Frank! Wow, my first impulse was actually to start writing in French, this is how far I've already come in little more than a week of intense training... Which brings me to me first good thing this month, even before writing about the great things that happened in Paris:

Being extremely motivated to brush up my French! It was so much fun to notice how my language skills improved every day even though I only spent five days in Paris. On my last day, I bought one of the Harry Potter books in French (I figured reading a book I already know more or less by heart will make it less hard when I have to guess every other word). I read seven chapters on the train to Munich and have since scored thousands of experience points on Duolingo. Gosh, I even started filling a notebook with vocabulary and grammar rules. I wonder how long I can keep up this pace... But it's so amazing, I catch myself talking to myself in French (in my thoughts at least). Immersing myself in the language definitely made an impression on me.

Ok, so, Paris. The train ride was great because I started AND finished reading a whole book. / I was so happy whenever I managed to have a successful conversation in French. / I really liked Ombeline, especially roaming around her apartment (with more than 17 chairs in the living room alone). Going through all her books and bandes dessinées (she even had one by Margaux Motin!), making breakfast in her kitchen, opening some of the cupboards and marvelling at the sheer amount of stuff and back-ups she owns, looking at her souvenirs from Africa and the beautiful crescent moon mask. / The SOHN concert at La Maroquinerie (which was by chance only a few hundred metres away from Ombeline's flat). "I can feel it coming, we can never go back." / Finding a statue of a gorgeous bearded man in marble; surrounded by baby angels with severed heads. A man after my fancy. / Sitting in Sacré-Coeur, taking cover from the rain, having a profane conversation. / Taking a walk from Montmartre to Faubourg; a good hour of sunshine, glitter on the streets in Pigalle, noticing that gay Frenchmen have a very distinct style. Sharing a passion fruit éclair. Decadent bulky waste (a pink satin canapé). / Spending time at Centre Pompidou, rediscovering Twombly, Brancusi and Klee. / Sitting outside a caf�� with a strong drink and a cigarette (I had to think about Franzi's idea of the ideal way to spend time in Paris - sitting around in cafés all day, wearing red lipstick and smoking way too much). / Watching the swing dancers at Balajo. / Le jardin des plantes! The palaeontology and geology museum were fantastic. I've always wanted to go there but somehow I never managed even though I've been to Paris three times before. / Sitting at the Seine, next to each other, taking in the scenery.

Minimalism input: reading Escape Everything by Robert Wringham in Ombelines overly full apartment made me consider doing something drastic with my life. Sell all my stuff, become a digital nomad. So many ideas!

Overhearing a little girl one afternoon addressing the red, white and blue balloons she had just gotten in a bakery: "Ja ich weiß, ihr Luftballons ihr wollt weg!"

I've basically stopped watching TV? What's going on? I only saw one movie in February, and that was at the cinema! Awesome! More time for books!

Buying books is so satisfying. I loved spending time in French book stores (Les Mots à la Bouche!), going through the used-book section at the Bouquinistes and Shakespeare and Company. I bought so many books during the last few weeks. It's gonna take the rest of the year to read all of them.

My colleague asked me whether I'd like to start a sustainability exchange programme with a school in South America! Exciting!

The Grossstadtgeflüster concert at Feierwerk was awesome. I even got a sticker with a street sign for Fickt-Euch-Allee (I kinda wanna put it over the real street sign here in my street).

Oat cookies with dark chocolate. Baking my favourite lemon cake with poppy seeds and blueberries.

A weird weekend - I neither left the house nor talked to anyone - but I was in the mood to clean all my windows! My productivity high is getting scary...

How sadly true this article on jealousy is. The first paragraph actually triggered me to shout out "ha" because I felt caught. Oh well. After all "you have to keep breaking your heart before it opens." (Rumi)

ALMOST booking a flight to Cancún over Christmas and New Year's Eve. It might still happen. So far I'm afraid I'm spending too much money as it is... we'll see how much unreason my bank account can take. But just imagining lying on a white, sandy beach on the first day of 2018 while Germany vanishes in a cloud of dust and smoke after the annual fireworks... nice thought.

Making poached eggs for the first time. You have to make a swirl with an egg whisk in a pot of vinegar water and crack the eggs while the water is still moving.

The nice feeling of the dust cover of Zeige deine Wunde by Rüdiger Sünner.

Talking to Inge on the tram.

Watching Wilde Maus at Rio Filmpalast. Pia Hierzegger is such an interesting actress and I just found out that she's been dating Josef Hader for years now! Ha. Best quote: "Bist du angrennt irgendwo?"

Drawing some figures for my sixth-graders and colouring them in Photoshop (I haven't done that in a while but it's so much fun). And in general - being more creative. Drawing a treasure map with black ink. Getting the watercolours out. Sitting down with my students to make clay and stone sculptures. It's so nice to create something, free from pressure.

A fantastic room tour.

The handsome dude from the French textbook publishing company. Can he come over more often, please?

Watching old Art Attack videos.

A very stormy morning. 6am, the sky still dark blue, the trees bending and bowing as black silhouettes against it. What an energetic start into the day.

Pressed flowers. I'm thinking about making my own, just like I used to as a kid.

This article: On drowning goats.

I just had a wonderful idea: I'd like to make a book for my friends. I'm not quite sure what should go inside but I was thinking of stories and memories, recipes, photographs and of course some of my drawings. I'd have so much fun layouting it and I'd also have a full round of really good Christmas presents. Projects! Whee!

It sounds counter-intuitive but: Running from a situation instead of suffering through it. I often try to do "the right/decent thing" to put a good face on the matter and sit it out when I'm actually dying on the inside. It felt good to say "no, not that shit again" and walk away.

An unexpected support squad at school (thanks, Selina, Osna, Katarina!)

Liberté, Egalité, Beyoncé

My tiny new portrait drawing class.

Successful adulting: taking care of boring insurance policies, contracts, applying for a visa, having my bike repaired, refilling my car's water tank. But I did all the things!!

Milchschnitte Himbeer and mango panna cotta.

Liebertext / exchanging daily mails with a stranger.

Getting the invitation for Franzi's and Ralf's wedding in the mail! I was so happy I was hardly even mad about all the confetti in the envelope, I mean, on my bathroom floor. And I was so relieved that my return flight from Helsinki is going to be on the day before; for I second I thought I wasn't going to make it.

"Komm mal her!" - "Aber ich hab dich gar nicht lieb." - "Ich dich aber trotzdem."

Sexy schmexy (I love saying this at the moment)

Bibiana Beglau as Mephisto in the Faust production at the Residenztheater.

Hitting the jackpot when opening a pint of ice-cream just to find a huge pool of liquid caramel right under the lid.

Seeing how creative some of my students are (I mean, hello, Frenchman, hunter, Santa Claus, rockstar and superhero minions made out of clay? Such great ideas!)

Little pink tulips with round heads and yellow edges. So cute.

Dinner with the Educational Lady Warriors. I mean, Franzi, Elsa and Martina. Finding out that Elsa is pregnant! She showed us her ultrasound picture and you can actually see a tiny human already, with the spine, brain hemispheres, the heart, the limbs... Fascinating.

Receiving a 50€ gift voucher for a book shop after completing a random survey on school questions. AND winning two theatre tickets for Liebesblind at the Pathos. Sweet.

Unsweetened almond milk. It tastes like marzipan!

I noticed that I really like the sinew over my right big toe. I don't have many body parts that aren't soft, which is why I appreciate this one sinew standing out.

I won two tickets to Liebesblind at Pathos and took Franzi with me. The location was pretty great, very Berlin-esque. Afterwards we had some drinks at her place, Ralf and a few of their friends were also there. A pretty nice evening!

My trusted old 2-minute-recipe: couscous with some feta and tomato puree.

I went to a drive-in cinema for the first time and I don't know why I'd never been before, it's AWESOME. You're in your cosy little box, get the audio via radio frequency (since my new car has a BOSE sound system the quality is excellent) AND you can talk throughout the movie!!

This incredible weather. Getting the first pistachio ice-cream of the year at my favourite ice-cream parlour in Schwabing. Seeing everyone sitting in the sun in front of the Glypthothek. And the blossoms on the trees. Munich is so nice in the sunshine.

Having pizza and ice-cream with Lexi, driving on the highway with open windows and extremely amusing German songs blasting (Schnipo Schranke, Von Wegen Lisbeth, Sookee). Drinking beer at the Bilderbuch concert, singing along, mock-arguments with Frank.

Hugging Doris just as long as she can bear it.

The other day my pupils told a colleague that she was beautiful, then they saw me and quickly added: "Oh, you are beautiful, too!" And then they group-hugged me. Adorable, bootlicking little gangsters...

How much fun I can have when I'm layouting tests and worksheets.

#personal #present perfect #things i love #march #2017 #march 2017

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hannahunterwegsinderwelt · 8 years ago

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... und wie bist du dann nach Indien gekommen?

Die Antwort darauf ist ganz einfach: Mit einem anderen Flug, aber dazwischen ist folgendes passiert:

Zuerst einmal haben ich und die Fluggesellschaft versucht herauszufinden, wie man mich ohne mehr Geld zu zahlen am gleichen Tag noch nach Indien befördert, wo ja auch meine Tante auf mich warte. Antwort hierauf ist: gar nicht, der einzige weitere Flug ist ausgebucht. Ich hätte zwar gerne mehr Zeit in Japan verbracht, aber lieber mit Geld bzw. mehr Geld als 700 Yen (ca. 7 €), 4 € und 20$ (was ungefähr 20€ sind) (nicht zu vergessen die ungefähr 20€ in Soles, die aus Peru übrig geblieben sind und die man in Japan nirgends tauschen kann). Dafür wäre ich nämlich nur noch mal nach Tokyo rein und wieder zurück zum Flughafen gekommen, aber was zu Essen und ein Plätzchen zum Schlafen hätte es nicht mehr gegeben. Die Vorstellung am Flughafen festzuhängen ohne Geld und ohne wen zu erreichen (ich habe nämlich auch keinen Handyempfang in Tokyo, nirgends) führt erstmal dazu, dass ich mir die Tränen dann doch nicht mehr verkneifen kann. Was wiederum dazu führt, dass die Hochschwangere am Schalter der Fluglinie ebenfalls fast anfängt zu weinen, weil ich ihr so leid tue. Und dann, als ich schon verzweifelt über Leute versuche meine Eltern anzurufen, kommt die Lösung: Papas Kreditkartendaten und die Möglichkeit einen Flug, der abends noch über Taiwan und Malaysia nach Indien geht.

Blöderweise wird die Verbindung von zwei verschiedenen Billigairlines bedient, was für mich heißt, ich muss in Taiwan durch den Zoll und mein Gepäck aufgeben und natürlich hat genau der Flug nach Taiwan ungefähr eine Stunde Verspätung. Was mir ungefähr 20 Minuten Zeit dafür lässt. Ich komme 2 Minuten zu spät zum Einchecken, aber nachdem man weitere 2 Minuten mit mir schimpft, wieso ich zu spät bin, checkt man mich und mein Gepäck doch noch ein und scheucht ich zum Gate, damit ich nicht ja auch da noch zu spät komme. Als ich das Gate erreiche, hat das Boarding noch nicht mal angefangen und ich wünsche mir nur noch eine Dusche. Aber danach läuft alles reibungslos und ich bin in Indien! Ich hätte euch gerne ein Foto von mir völlig fertig im Flugzeug mit Schlafmaske gemacht, aber letztere muss ich in Kuala Lumpur verloren haben...

... how did you get to India?

The answer is easy, a different flight. But how did I get there? First, me and the airline tried to figure out what went wrong and how to get me as cheap and quick as possible to India. The answer is, that there is no way, the last flight on this day is booked out. I’ld love to stay longer in Japan, but prefer to do so with more money than around 30$ (and 20 more in Soles you can’t exchange in Japan). That would just get me back to the citycenter and to the airport again, without food or a place to sleep. As I can’t call someone (no connection with any of my simcards in whole Tokyo) I do what comes to my mind thinking about being stuck at an airport without money: I start crying. What in return gets the pregnant woman of the airline almost crying to. But than I remember that my father sent me his creditcarddata and I just can book a flight online.

The connection is served by two different cheap airlines. So I have to check in a second time in Taiwan, meaning I have to get through immigrations, luggage claim and check in and because of a delay all that in 20 minutes. Don’t ask me how, but I made it and was only 2 minutes late for check in, so they allowed me to check in and hurry me to the gate, where the boarding not even started yet. And that’s how I finally got to India. Sadly, there is no picture of me to highlight the stress I’ve been through as I lost my sleep mask during transfer in Kuala Lumpur.

#9Minutenvisum #OddysseenachIndien

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janaonthepct · 5 years ago

Text

The Aftermath

*for all my German friends that had to endure endless English writing, this time German comes first and English is below*

So ihr lieben,

lange ist’s her. Gefühlt schon wieder eine halbe Ewigkeit um ehrlich zu sein. Jetzt bin ich schon weit über zwei Monate wieder in Deutschland. Länger als ich überhaupt weg war :))

London war klasse. Ein gelungener Wiedereinstieg. Aber ich war auch sehr froh nach dem Trail erstmal etwas Zeit vor der Großstadt gehabt zu haben, all die Menschenmassen, der Lärmpegel und die Schnelllebigkeit der Stadt waren doch etwas anderes im Vergleich zu Tagen an denen man nur damit beschäftigt ist einen Schritt vor den anderen zu setzen. Nach einer knappen Woche Sightseeing, Freunde treffen und Jetlag auskurieren bin ich dann auch wieder gut in Deutschland angekommen.

Der Einstieg hier war spannend (ein besseres Wort finde ich nicht). Wie ihr mich kennt, habe ich natürlich gleich wieder ein paar kleinere Ausflüge gestartet. Ich war ein paar Tage im Schwarzwald und habe die Ruhe genossen, dann sind wir als Familie für ein Wochenende als ein Geburtstagsgeschenk an den Bodensee gefahren und haben bei eisigen Temperaturen natürlich trotzdem einen Sprung in den See gewagt und auch sonst gab es die letzten Wochen immer wieder kleine, tolle Programmpunkte. Aber abgesehen davon war das Ankommen irgendwie anders als erwartet. Oder eben nicht erwartet. Ich weiß auch nicht wie ich das besser beschreiben kann. Ich habe mich direkt arbeitssuchend gemeldet und war dann aber erstmal einige Zeit ganz schön überfordert. Überfordert mit den Möglichkeiten, überfordert mit was ich überhaupt will und überfordert mit der aktuellen Situation. Es ist gar nicht so einfach relativ ungebunden zu sein. Weder groß an Orte, noch an bestimmte Berufsprofile gebunden zu sein, macht die Suche nach etwas Passendem auch nicht leichter.

Ich habe den Trail bewusst aufgehört und bin auch immer noch sehr zufrieden mit der Entscheidung. Ich wusste, dass der nächste Schritt nicht unbedingt einfach wird, aber ich war bereit ihn zu gehen. Nur was das konkret bedeuten würde war mir nicht klar. Aber ich glaube schon, dass es für mich durchaus wichtig war diese Zeit auch auszuhalten und mir dessen bewusst zu werden. So hatte ich die letzten Wochen viel Zeit. Zeit um Innezuhalten und zu reflektieren, Zeit um tausende Bewerbungsanzeigen durchzulesen und trotzdem nicht wirklich weiter zu wissen, Zeit um Freunde zu kontaktieren und mit meiner Familie zu sein. Und ganz viel Zeit zum Joggen :D. Aber es war wirklich auch keine einfache Zeit für mich. Ich habe den Trail verlassen mit dem Wunsch irgendwo anzukommen und hier saß ich nun in meinem alten Kinderzimmer bei meinen Eltern immer mit dem Gedanken im Hinterkopf, dass all das nur „temporär“ ist. So ein undefinierter Zwischenstatus ist echt nicht cool. Man fühlt sich selbst ausgeliefert, traut sich kaum irgendetwas anzufangen und ist dann aber gefrustet, dass es nichts zu tun gibt.

Aber mit der Zeit wurde das auch wieder besser. Der Frust ist der Akzeptanz gewichen und langsam aber sicher habe ich das Ganze auch wieder als Chance sehen können. Wer hat heutzutage schon so viel Zeit sich mit sich selbst und seiner Perspektive auseinanderzusetzen? Und so clichehaft das jetzt auch klingen mag aber für mich hat sich wieder einmal das Prinzip bewährt: „je weniger du suchst, desto mehr wirst du finden“...

Nach meiner absoluten Orientierungslosigkeit bin ich irgendwann auf Bildungsträger in der Sozialen Arbeit gestoßen. Einrichtungen, die mit Menschen allen Alters arbeiten, sich für Chancengleichheit und Potentialförderung einsetzen und die wie ich davon überzeugt sind, dass Bildung ein Schlüssel zum Erfolg ist. So bin ich bei der Deutschen Angestellten Akademie gelandet, einem der größten Weiterbildungs- und Rehabilitationsträger in Deutschland. Ich habe mich an einigen Standorten beworben und auch direkt sehr positive Rückmeldungen bekommen. Nach ein paar Bewerbungsgesprächen habe ich mich dann direkt für eine Stelle als Sozialpädagogin in den ausbildungsbeleitenden Hilfen in Ludwigshafen am Rhein entschieden.

Das Bewerbungsgespräch ist aktuell noch nicht mal drei Wochen her und in dieser Zeit hat sich schon so viel getan, das könnt ihr euch kaum vorstellen. Ich war schon drei weitere Male in Mannheim und Umgebung, hatte direkt eine Übergangswohnung und ein weiteres Sofa zum Crashen gefunden, falls ich selber noch nichts passendes gefunden hätte (DANKE Fanny und Julian!), habe dann aber beim zweiten Besuch direkt eine absolute Traumwohnung gefunden, die ab 01.09. mit zwei Freundinnen zu einer genialen WG wird, bin dann vorletztes Wochenende ein 10km Stadtlauf gerannt bei verrückter Hitze und habe dann auch noch die letzten Tage komplett den Umzug mit allen Möbliar und sonstigem Hab und Gut aus Marbach nach Ludwigshafen vollzogen (Danke Simon für deine Hilfe, ohne dich hätte ich das nicht geschafft!) (Hoffentlich der letzte Umzug in nächster Zeit). Und letzte Woche Donnerstag (zum 01.08.) habe ich dann direkt meinen neuen Job begonnen.

Ich kann nur WOW sagen. Ich bin selber immer noch völlig baff, wie sich das alles so schnell ergeben hat. Und ich bin so dankbar für alles, was ich die letzten Monate erleben durfte. All die Begegnungen, die wunderschönen Momente und die gemeinsame Zeit, all die verschiedenen Orte, Eindrücke und Landschaften. Ich freue mich jetzt sehr und bin gespannt auf die kommende Zeit. Besuche sind jederzeit willkommen und sehr gern gesehen! Vielen Dank für euer Interesse an mir und meinen Erlebnissen. Ich freue mich natürlich auch sehr über ein ausführliches Update von euch. Bis wir uns hoffentlich bald auch mal wieder in Person antreffen wünsche ich euch allen alles alles Liebe, oder wie man auf dem PCT sagt: HAPPY TRAILS :)

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WOW guys, what a long update this is turning out to be. But it’s been a while and many things have happened. By now I’ve been back longer then I was gone. But let’s start where we last left off:

London was super fun. A good way to reenter Europe. Had the opportunity to sleep out most of my jet lag, see some dear friends and wander around. I was super glad though that I had some days between the trail and the city, it is such a vibrant, dynamic and crazy place, definitely a big change after days of just focusing on your feet and your surroundings.

Coming back to Germany was strange and interesting at the same time (not very specific words I know). I left the trail with clear intentions and the goal to arrive at a place and commit to something at least for a while. But getting back to my hometown and moving back in with my parents I realized that I didn’t really know where or what that was going to be. I was willing to figure it out and work on it though. I just didn’t know where to start exactly.

I spent the first couple weeks moving around without any clear purpose. I did some small fun trips like a weekend in the black forest and another one at the lake of Constance, went to some cultural events and had some reunions with friends but apart from that I kind of got stuck in a “this is only super temporary, I can’t commit to anything” state, which was super tough and unnerving. It’s really hard to live in such a mode, especially when you don’t have any clue when it’s going to be over again. I felt lost in this endless pond of possibilities and opportunities and couldn’t even really start applying for anything specific, because I myself couldn’t really describe the things I wanted to accomplish. I was still content with my decision to leave the trail, I knew this was something I had to deal with eventually. Eventually the frustration changed into more of an acceptance of the circumstances and with that new ideas and opportunities arose.

I started looking more into educational companies in social work, because that was one of the only areas of social work that really interested me straight away. Through this I found the German Employee Academy, one of the biggest educational companies in Germany doing anything from reschooling and coaching programs to youth counselling and tutoring. I ended up having a couple interviews with them at different locations in Germany and received some pretty nice job offers. Within less then 2 weeks I signed a contract with them, found a lovely flat to live in, moved all my stuff, unpacked and even started working there already from the 1stof August! It’s been a whirlwind, I can tell you! In between I managed to run a 10k city race and get a bunch of bureaucratical stuff done also. The job is in Ludwigshafen, a city on the Rhine right next to Mannheim between Frankfurt and Karlsruhe. It is a big cultural meeting point (three state borders meet here) and very diverse and layered. And my job is mentoring young adults doing apprenticeships.

All I can really say is WOW. I still am baffled about how fast all this came to be. Somehow it seems that yet again, the phrase: “The less you seek, the more you find” worked out pretty well for me. I am so grateful for all the beautiful moments and encounters that have led up to this and am also very grateful for your interest in my journey. If you want, I’d love to hear what you are up to as well J

Of course my new flat welcomes all of you as visitors!!! I hope to see you soon again and am sending tons of love! Until then, in old PCT manner – happy trails!

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