kelle.de

The darkness that encircles us in wintertime is of its most opaque sort. In my childhood I had the chance to witness a few times an ancient ritual. Walking with my family through the creaking snow up a hill, hunting the dancing spark cast by a flashlight. I remember the flashlight, it was of the old sort, with a yellow bulb and you could see the skewed refractions in the projection. It was heavy, filled with large rusty battery cells, and a three way switch, the middle setting of which would allow for a Morse button to come into action. Its solid tin casing felt grossly big in my tiny hands. When we finally reached the top of the hill, darkness made way to red gloom shining up far into the black sky, emerging to be huge bonfire surrounded by the young men of the township celebrating the “Schiebeschlage” tradition. This tradition  mostly seen in Germany’s Black Forest and adjacent territorries is an ancient ritual, dating back at least 1000 years. The jestful crowd roasts little wooden plates stuck on poles in the huge bonfire, and take turns hitting them head on over a tilted board to fly off into the valley, emanating a sparkful glow. While the “Schiebe” (German dialect  for “disc”) flew its way in an arc, they would chant blessings like: “Schieb Schieb über de Rieh, de Schiebe soll dem alte Auguscht sie.” (Disc, disc over the hedge, the disc shall be dedicated to old August).  The blessing would be dedicated to farmers of the township, especially those heading a large family. The longer the disc would fly, the bigger the likelyhood of the blessing’s good fortune to come true. However, with this the whole spectacle was far from over. Towards the end, when all discs had been shot, the now giggeling crowd turned to travel down the valley, abandoning the bonfire. So to make it more fun, they had prepared a large old tractor tyre, stuffed it with straw and bathed in gasoline, standing upright in a wooden clamp facing downhill. Then the tyre was lit and started to roll all the way down into the valley, the crowd tumbling after.

What a spectacle!

By the time it had passed, I noticed that my gloves had become slightly roasted because of the intense heat of the huge fire. The darkness surrounding the scene must have gotten roasted, too, because it felt more friendly, almost appetizingly welcoming on the way back downhill.

I am back from Innsbruck, a medium-large town huddled in a very deep valley in the Austrian alps.  Wolf did a great video production of the whole thing. Take a look (and if bandwidth permits don’t forget to click “view in high quality”.

Here is also a more detailed report of the event, including subject related gibberish . Check it out!

Oddly enough the 1er arondissement in Paris seems to be infested by a lot of muggers and hooligans… something one would not expect from the very center of such a grand city. There is very much the athmosphere of banlieu. Never mind, on our first night here we had a good time partying on a boat on the River Seine. However, when we got back to the 1st district (where the friend I am visiting here has a small flat, somewhere near the Centre Pompidou), we decided to be hungry and eat some Panini stuff (something typical about Paris night food supply seems to be that there is only Panini). One of the regulations recently introduced by the Prefecture, however, is complicating things, easy as though they may seem regarding the paninism of late hour nutrification.

Between midnight and 4am you are not allowed to take away food. You must remain within the premises of the establishment where you bought the food, else there be trouble.

And so it happend. Some hungry frenchmen were ignorant of that rule and went away with their food, only to receive beating by some bouncer whose job it were to keep food-wielders inside the box shaped sales room of the feeding station.

Oh how they squealed, flying paninis and fists, pushing and beating, and greedy hands trying to salvage whats left of the object of anger.

If it was not so scary a vision, people getting really freaked out and violent, I would have laughed my head off. (By the way, managed to stay in the spectator role)…

Yesterday night I made a discovery.
I watched this: http://plus7.arte.tv/fr/detailPage/1697660,CmC=2255684,CmPage=1697660.html

What really struck me was the performance of Joey Burns from the US Band Calexico (I had never heard about them before). The performance is found roughly halfways on the video accessible through above link, featuring two songs (A wonderful acoustic version of “Two silver trees” and a hardly rehearsed but perfect full band version of “Tornado Watch”). Also try searching for “Calexico” on Youtube.

This is wonderful wonderful stuff. So full of bold experimental and melancholic melodies and lyrics. Yet with some texmex elements (brass and classic mariachi guitars) that add an almost sarcastic note to their mostly noir music pieces. Sounds like an impossible combination, doesn’t it? Lesson learnt: If you want to do something bold and new, you  have to make the impossible possible.

This is the western wall video I did yesterday. The movie was recorded in my flat and on the balcony, as well as half a mile away, or so, where some remains of the actual western wall are located.

What do you do if you live on the German/Dutch border, and there is a weekend, no plans. Yes. You go to Amsterdam. Little did I prepare but taking a small backpack with some spare cloths and 2 bottles of beer for the trip. It was saturday night, and I went to the small train station of my town. With a good deal of delay the train finally arrived at Heerlen central, and on went the ride to good old Amsterdam, where I met my friend Steinn from Iceland. There we went, to the Korsakoff, an alternative club location on Lijnbaansgracht, dark and dense in atmosphere, the wretched saluting in mutual respect, gazing at colourful delight and indulging in spheres of heavy sound. Caleidoscoped by these impressions we stumbled out at last, into the fresh night, where the where-go-nows flocked. We sheltered us into the company of a group of Swedesmen, first indulging in jestful banter on site, then while moving on. The move targeted at the central station where we took the early train down south, back to Heerlen. This was were the journey found its preliminary end at a cafë without windows, without food, and without drink.

The moving seems over. I moved to a small suburb of Aachen. Today I was fortunate enough to see the sun rise, after 2 very cold and rainy days. It was not even rain but some real nasty drizzle, kreeping into every corner, moisturizing everything and everyone to the bones.

Yesterday I was on my class reunion. 10 years anniversary after graduation from German high school (aka Gymnasium). To say the least I was quite concerned to go there. It was the first time I ever went to a class reunion. 10 years ago I was very happy to leave school and that I never would have to see my classmates again, most of them, that is. Many of them (but of course not all) I consider responsible for a having a very bad time in school. Disrespect, intolerance, bullying, etc., going on for years. I had to force myself to go to that class reunion, and expose myself to living memories that would no doubt feel uncomfortable to be faced with. But then there was little to loose and a good deal of curiosity to be satisfied. The worst thing that could happen would be wasting my time (which of course I would have done in some other way if I wouldnt have gone there).

There were only few people that actually had made it. Every single one appeared surprisingly recognizable. However, in contrary to what I expected I found the event to be full of interesting talk, remembering what there was to remember of good times, and to see that people actually had grown up and were finally respecting each other.

That was not so bad at all.

I moved to Aachen.
This is a 4 word sentence. It sounds very simple, but in fact it was quite a hell of an effort.

First, I lived and worked in Vienna.
Then, I got an offer to work at OUNL, aka Open University of the Netherlands.
Then, I quit my job in Vienna so I could go and join OU as of 1.6.08.
At that point of time, I still had my flat in Vienna (actually it was a shared flat, but that doesnt make a difference).
So I took only part of what was there and brought it to my parent’s place near Freiburg, for storage.
Then, I went to the Netherlands to start my job. I didn’t have any accomodation so I stayed at a rather nice place in Heerlen, a boarding house in Villa style. It turned out after some weeks that things disappeared and that the staff was in fact quite rude/choleric, and most of the people (also the guests) consisted of elderly people. No, not elderly. Really thoroughly old. I felt like in an old people’s home. I had to get out of there.

Next, I looked for flats in NL but couldnt find anything proper. So I extended search radius onto Aachen, where I found a really cool flat. I made the deal and now I’m living in Aachen.

But this is only where the story starts.
One hitch of the deal was that the flat would first only be rented on intermediary terms, that is, a subcontract, I made with the prior tenant for the time while his contract with the house owner would be running out. The possibility for me to become the successor of the rental contract was (and is) there, so I was confident. After all, it would make sense to become the successor since I already would be living there.

So I seeked contact to the house owners. We had a nice chat in which they pointed out that they were not so happy with the prior tenants (an actor couple). They indicated that they didnt like their practice of sub-letting the flat (or parts of it) to 3rd parties. Which, btw included my deal with them. They said that they can make an exception in my case, so we parted in peace and all was fine. We also agreed to keep up the dialogue on negotiating a new contract for me to rent the flat directly in the future.

Then I went to Vienna. I contacted a slovak moving company that was recommended to me. I made a deal with them to bring all goods from Vienna to Aachen.

Then, while I was already sitting on packed  boxes, the phone rang. The house owners in Aachen had called to tell me that they object to letting any 3rd party use the flat. “This is nothing personal. You have to understand our point. Well, if you still want to move in, we won’t be seeing anything. But our official statement is that we don’t allow it.”

As you probably can imagine I was very alarmed and puzzled at how people can change their mind. I had the contract with the prior tenants. I called them and they advised me “Don’t listen to the house owner. They have no right to keep you from moving into the flat.”

The problem was that the prior tenant had stopped paying the rent because the house owner had indicated not to pay back any of the rent deposit. The months in question matched with the months that I would sub-rent the flat for.

After a day of fierce law study, I decided that the issue would have to be resolved in court. There were a couple of laws not abided by both the house owner and the prior tenant. My best tactic would be to insist on the subcontract I had bona fide entered into with the prior tenant, unbeknowest of the brawling conflict with the house owner.

So, after saying goodbye to everybody I had to leave behind in Vienna (which was not so easy I can tell you that), the moving took place. 2 slovak blokes and me loaded all of the stuff into the truck and then we drove all the way to Aachen, where we arrived some time in the middle of the night.

The next day we unloaded the truck and that’s where we are now.

Negotiations with the house owner will include a number of fuzzy aspects.
For once the flat is very large, divided into two seperate halves one of which would be ideal for sub-letting. The next thing is that the flat is not fully finished construction-wise. There is one balcony missing (instead there is an abyss you might easily fall into), and the access to the unfenced roof terrace is missing (another staircase in the corridor).

We will see how things evolve. One thing that makes me really like the flat is that it’s very spacious and bright.  It’s also right next to the train station where my commuter train takes me to work. It would be a nice space. But money and sub rental conditions will decide.

Update: I am moving again. I found a flat that is a bit smaller but of same style, in the outskirts of Aachen. I will spend less time commuting. This time I got a proper contract, and the flat not very expensive. Goodbye evil Landlord.

Back from summerschool, there is one important question that kept rotating inside my head but nobody would really get deeper into explaining about it. As you know, this year’s summerschool has taken place in Macedonia, a republic of former Yugoslavia. Now if you haven’t been completely asleep for the last 15 years, you will remember something like ongoing news reports about some armed conflicts in the balkan states. The conflict lasted from mid-nineties up until 2001, Macedonia being one of the last countries to find peace. Take a look at the map:

Polog and the southwestern territories share their border with Albania in the west. In the north the country is bordered by Kosovo, and to the northeast it’s Serbia . Left to mention Bulgaria (east) and Greece (south). Anyway, simply put, Albania started to dispute Macedonia’s territory in 2001, and as a consequence the Albanian minority in Macedonia was attacked by civil riotists. Most north and western parts of the country were in upheaval (war), including the region where our beloved summerschool has taken place. Due to the lake, putting distance between Macodonia and Albania, however, there were only minor incidents.

In my opinion it is important to be aware of such things. We walked the streets of a battered country.