A beautiful blonde German girl, with milk white skin, maybe 22, watches horrified. So does the German girl’s boyfriend. She comes to me. She hands me some tissue and some hand sanitizer to clean myself up. She says she’s sorry. I say, “Danke schoen.” (Thank you.)
Other Germans, all Aryans, all young, almost all blonde with blue eyes, are in shock this assault happened. They sympathize.
To be clear, I said nothing to this lady. I was just trying to sleep. I said nothing. I didn’t even make eye contact. I said nothing to her. She sat next to me for awhile, eating her McDonald's. I was trying to sleep. Some sleep. Any sleep. I’ve been traveling for over 20 to 30 hours without sleep.
Hanover Train Station doesn’t feel safe at this time. I see drug addicts, prostitutes, and Johns everywhere. It wasn’t the Germany I left 5 and a half years ago.
But maybe that was the problem. I refused to acknowledge her. Would I have, if I found her beautiful? Who knows? Someone who could validate us. But isn’t that what we do in our busy worlds, with time so precious. We just pretend that the stranger isn’t there. And maybe that’s now culturally acceptable, because strangers can find it weird when you try to strike up a conversation.
I think that’s why she threw food at me. First the French fries, which I dodged. Then the cheeseburger. Everyone found it clearly uncivil and rude.
I didn’t mean to ignore her. It wasn’t like I was doing it on purpose. I was just minding my own business. I was tired. I needed sleep and wanted sleep.
But I’m sure, being physically present but invisible, unrecognized, and unacknowledged, is and was painful. But some are mentally unwell. And this is what happens to them. So, she did what she had to, to get her acknowledgment. And she got it.
You might think I’m reading into it too much. But I don’t think so. Did you know in Zula, a South African tribe I met, they’re hello is “Sawubona!” It means literally, “I see you!” They believe we both and only exist, because we both acknowledge each other.
Well; in Germany and the USA, this has been erased in our minds. It matters what others could do for us. Time is money. Money is time. And you don’t want certain people in your space. And we all mind our own business. What happens to you is your problem. What happens to me is my problem. Am I my brother’s keeper? Definitely a clash of cultures ensuing.
Another thing. When I tell this story. People ask me if it was a German who assaulted me and quickly point out it: See; it was a refugee.
I can’t say I’m above this. Maybe it was good thing it happened to me. It’s made me think about this issue.
About 30 minutes later, the mentally unwell woman came back with a lighted cigarette and its red hot ember cherry. Everyone around her moved and ran away. The police came this time.
* * *
I ended up in this mess, because of a series of things that went wrong, which seems to happen, when I start my trips. It's almost like a form of destructive compound interest. Story of my life. One thing that went wrong was that the Lufthansa flight was late, making me miss my last train.
Since the bankruptcy of Air Berlin – Lufthansa has become a terrible airline, with terrible customer service. The problem is that it’s the major airline from the USA to Germany.
* * *
I went to six hotels in Hanover that night. All of them were booked. The sixth one, the last room was booked by someone who got there five minutes earlier than me. He was so gleeful with himself.
I was irritable to have lost out. He was old and fat and middle age and balding and German. I wondered if he was also in Hanover for the prostitutes, which I saw many of. And there were many men like him too. He definitely looked excited to be there. He was no Prince Hamlet, wasn’t meant to be, and never will be.
There was a certain cruelty and ugliness about the John–looking–guy and the hotel receptionist. They didn’t care I didn’t have a place to stay. I was homeless tonight.
* * *
Later in the trip, I stayed at a hotel in Goettingen. There was a mentally unwell woman in our hostel. She was again in her 50s. She talked to herself a lot. She banged on my wall, when I talked on the phone. She screamed a lot. She knew she wasn’t well, but she couldn’t control herself.
At first we thought she was from Lithuania. It turns out she was a Ukrainian refuge. The Germans tells me there’s a lot of these Ukrainian refugees now. Allegedly, these refugees all know someone who’s died. The hotel kicked her out the next morning.
I told you. No one wants them in their space.
* * *
Germany definitely has a mental health crisis. Germany’s suicide rate is at 12.3 per 100,000 persons. “Of the G7 countries, the USA had the highest" at 16.1. New Zealand is at 10.2. South Korea is even worse, at 32.5.
In 2009, Greece’s suicide rate was only 2.9. Now, it’s at around 5.1. Still low, but has gone up. How did it almost double in 14 years? Regardless, maybe it’s time to go to Greece.
* * *
Issues regarding mental health appears to be a theme in this trip. Hospitality, or the lack of it, was also becoming a recurrent theme.
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