08th of October 2015
This morning I met with a professor from Saint Louis University for brunching. He leads the faculty of International Studies and is involved in the online class of “Globalization and Identity”. He explained me, that the lectures contain politics, economy and literature. The study is in cooperation between five universities from Stuttgart, St. Louis, Mumbai, St. Petersburg and South Africa. I am looking forward to this interesting topic.
It was not easy to visit my doctor, who gives me the shots against my wasp allergy. It took me two hours by public transport to reach his office. With a car, I could make it in 20 minutes.
After paying 300$ for the first visit and shot, I met Miriam in a pizzeria in Creve Coeur. (This mystical name is pronounced by the locals so badly, that I would not find it on a map in my deepest dreams. It is an abuse of the wonderful French language). I met her after the service in the synagogue. She told me, that she escaped from Nazi-Germany in 1939. Obviously she is not anymore German. Her English or rather her American seems to me perfectly pronounced. Her Nike shoes and small but impressive shape make her look much younger than she is. Her hand shake is warm and full of energy.
While eating in an empty pizzeria, we start with the usual talk, which strangers are used to have.
The atmosphere changes, when we switch to talk about the holocaust and when I mention Rainer Höß, the grandchild of the commander of the extermination camp Auschwitz, which I have interviewed a few months before.
The mass extermination is since 70 years over. Nevertheless, we both agree that the war is still going on. Going on in the mind of the progenies. On both sides. Also the progenies of the Nazis have to fight, to understand something cruel, what is far behind the conscious of humanity, but fulfilled by humanity. Surprisingly, she invited me spontaneously to her home. Her black puppy greets me by jumping on my knee. Suddenly she asks me, if want to watch a holocaust movie. I agree with an uncertain feeling in my stomach. We are sitting on her couch and seeing a holocaust movie. My thoughts are weird. I don´t know what to think about this.
I wonder how she can endure to see such a cruel movie, although she nearly would have been one of these Jews. I would like to know what is going on inside her, when one of the victims gets slaughtered. Nevertheless, I do not dare to ask her.
She explains me, that she often sees this kind of movies. Her daughter avoids getting in touch with the holocaust and could not see such a movie like this. Interesting how different humans treat these difficult topics.
I wonder if she really likes to see these movies or feels that she has to bear all this violence, because she could immigrate by a twelve days ship ride, which for sure she did not enjoy.
I have an audition at 6 o´clock at the University of St. Louis. It takes more than one hour to get there by bus.
I am frightened to tell her, that she might think I am not interested to see the movie.
I leave with her book including poetry, what she has written about the Holocaust.
Just in time I arrive at the Hula audition. I am the only one in the room and start to wonder if I am not in the right rom. Two other students are entering very irritated. One says: I wish they would tell us if it is the correct time. In fact a few minutes later everyone, including the trainers arrive, so that we can start a quarter past 6 o´clock. I have never danced Hula before and have no clue how this dance look like.
It is a very smooth dance, which tries to imitate the landscape of Hawaii.
Half an hour later, three grinning boys with the right outfit for Hawaii enter the room. They are just wearing swimming suits. Everybody starts to suppress to smile and we start the dance from the beginning to give these three gentlemen also a chance to compete with us for the Hula auditions.
On Sunday we will know, who had been chosen to dance at the LNYF (Luna New Year’s Festival).