Swim with the stream

Rio de Janeiro, March 2020

From today on, the beaches are closed. Not only that but all other public spaces such as restaurants etc. like in most countries affected by Corona crisis. Yesterday, I had my last run and swim on Copacabana and it hurts to give up my newly gained sportive activity which is crawling in open waters back and forth. Wilson Witzel, the governor of the federal state of Rio de Janeiro, has ordered to keep in self quarantine at home to swim with the stream, following the necessary rules to control the outbreak of Covid-19, acting independently from the country‘s current president who is undergoing an impeachment process, due to his irresponsible and trumpesque attitude towards the worldwide pandemic situation.

And because of empty streets in the city, the number of criminal assaults is rising up rapidly since bandits are in desperation to get hold of enough clients to steal from. And this is just the start. No idea where the situation will end up in a couple of weeks. Caught a cold somewhere so stayed at home. My sister brought me food because I still keep an empty fridge like the usual. Mr P has to shut up these days, following my instructions the best he can.

No discussion.

The Book of Genesis

Rio de Janeiro, March 2020

In three month they will turn three years old. And this is what happens when they listen to the high notes of Maria Callas: a variation of Michelangelo’s Creation of Adam on the Sistine Chapel‘s ceiling.

Haven‘t we been thinking lately more than usual about creation and destruction within the last few weeks due to fear of epidemic death?

Destruction of precious lives, of careers, of stability on the stock market, of intact societies in small villages or big cities, of believe in governmental control.

Or creation of solidarity in small villages or big cities, of admiration for medical care workers who risk their lives, of scientists in search for a solution, of pragmatism and sobriety….

For the first time we have no idea what‘s going to happen in the near future as plans change quickly adapting to current circumstances. We are thrown back on our cold feet, letting us know that the most important thing is

HEALTH

and nothing else matters.

Bread & Butter and Corona

Sri Lanka, February 2020

Today, I have been given a special ayurvedic treatment which consists in letting liquid butter pearl into your eyes, held back from running down the face by fresh bread dough. I had to open and close my eyes constantly during fifteen minutes in order to let the butter spread all around inside the eye ball. It burns like hell.

Otherwise , detoxing to the max for two weeks. And wandering around the gardens of the ayurvedic clinic to watch the plants grow, which become natural remedies and medicine for the resident patients. I have been given some of it too, looking like brown round little rabbit poop, having to swallow them three times a day after meals.

The average age of the patients is around sixty and with one elder couple I spend some evenings playing chess, where as my compagnion at the dinner table keeps talking about his youth and career start as an engineer during Adenauer times. He now lives in Japan since a few decades and had arrived same day as me to the clinic with a huge cold and sore throat. Of course , i was alarmed and thought that this was it. Virus all over the place, thus being hidden in the non touristic backland country of Sri Lanka to gain back health. Anyway, he recovered with the doctor’s plants after a couple of days.

So happy to be here. Will be traveling back without the walking cane for sure , in contrary to my arrival journey. But, unfortunately, anti virus mask is still a must. Lets see how much medicine fits into my little luggage bag around the shoulder, the only one i took along besides the rucksack with laptop.

In admiration for the art of healing, wether it is the traditional natural medicine or the scientists and physicians trying feverish and incessantly to find a vaccination solution against Coronavirus COVID 19 disease.

Hari Hari ( srilankese for: everything will be ok )

Enduring Balance and Democracy

Berlin, February 2020

The other day, during morning walk on my way to the office, I stopped at an orthopedic shop and bought myself a walking stick. Initially, I had thought about getting a very stylish one but the occasion , when walking passed that store, was too tempting. They only had one type of model. Practical, black and suitable for all heights as extendable.

Where as last week in Portugal , when going to this great outdoor party in the country side placed in a hilly area, I had to use my friend‘s old broom stick, to get around easier in darkness through the bushes and windy steep trails. ( Lately, I am having balance issues) In the morning I ended up in someone‘s van to sleep. Then sun came out and I drove back to the beach , getting some text finished and packing bag for return flight to Berlin, leaving the old broom behind.

By now I have gotten used to that stick. Its a complete different perception i get from my environment and i like it. Don‘t have to concentrate that much on walking and moving appropriately. Its obvious now and i feel somehow safe and well in my skin. No questions but politeness and awareness.

My only concern is how to get rid of that stiffness in Sri Lanka very soon, as going there for a two week Ayurveda treatment. No coronavirus protecting masks available at pharmacies anymore, so i hope the online purchase arrives on time before traveling. Strange, the US don‘t give a damn about that virus as far too self concerned but I saw Mitt Romneys speech this morning and it makes sense. Not mentioning yesterday‘s election results in Thuringia… Well, don‘t want to get too much into politics here.

Long Live Democracy

Vanity Issues

Berlin, January 2020

Ever since I have been working in journalism with many colleagues at all kind of different newspapers, magazines or agencies, I never ever had a sexual or romantic interaction with any woman or man. Not even a glimpse of it. At least during the time while being colleagues. Obviously,  it’s absolutely unprofessional and besides , really unpractical as you would have to confront yourself to potential uncomfortable situations. Most of the time I was in a happy marriage anyway but even becoming single I followed the unspoken rules.

A while ago, it occurred that I started flirting with someone though. Subtle little looks , some gestures, nothing special. He was very good looking and super smart. But I had decided to stop this. 

Therefore one day, I went up to him as he had been already following me on my way out of the office and holding the open door for me, very gentleman like, as I reacted in the most crazy and stupid way that crossed my mind. I was behaving like one of those stalker women, saying nonsense shit in a very thin and high voice tone. Clinging onto him. Absolut horror for every normal man to be confronted with all of a sudden. Of course he fled as fast as he could as felt super cornered in this open door way and me in front of him with no way out. 

After this incident, I had gone on a longer trip so when we met in the office a month later, there were no signs of anything that had occurred. All neutral, simple, polite and professional. Very easy going. The only thing I felt left behind was my pride and vanity. I have to swallow the bitter pill of being a crazy stalker woman towards him. As it is already a while ago and I hardly work directly together with him, I don’t really give a damn. It‘s just a vanity affair.

Same as not bothering anymore when walking along the aisles of the huge office building , being vulnerable with my slightly handicapped way of walking. I guess my colleagues can see it by now and not everyone knows about my situation. So what. Can’t stop the deterioration process anyway. This is a circumstance I can, at least, get slowly used to: loosing attractiveness. Plus this week I will be turning forty five years old and really comfortable about it. Celebrating a huge party. With all the guns loaded.

Happy Birthday Pam and Mr P

Edgy and Scratchy

Algarve Portugal, January 2020

This afternoon I had been invited to join a rehearsal. Just when finished writing my obligatory three pages per day, it was getting chilly and I found myself in great necessity of moving away from the place i had been sitting around for during the last couple of hours. The studio of Joao the drummer is tiny, comfy and warm. It was exactly the right thing to get drifted away by these three musicians in jam session, who have come together for the first time in this constellation. I sat on the floor between Tomas on guitar and Fabio on Alt-Saxophon.

I suddenly remember these rehearsals in a goat stall in the 80ties on Formentera. One of my stepfathers played the drums and his twin brother trumpet and violine. They both arrived to the island in the 60ties and only played jazz. I had watched them doing music for years and fell asleep with jazz music played from a cassette player every night. Especially Miles Davis. My room had no doors as it was the little space above the chimney room to be climbed up on a ladder. So all the weed and dope smoke from the adults sitting in front of the chimney arrived to my bedroom. I did not really care as slept with an open window right next to my head.

But the more important thing is that my comprehension for music had started from very early age on. My ear has gotten used to difficult sounds and searches for the more edgy, itchy and scratchy sound combinations. Atonality is a challenge. Once i listened to a concert of Arnold Schönberg, conducted by Daniel Barenboim in the Staatsoper Berlin. What an experiment! Therefore I prefer Free and Experimental Jazz nowadays.

Unfortunately the skills for doing music myself had always been more than poor. By the age of thirteen i was given an Alt-Saxophon. Tried to play on it, hidden in an old Volvo parked behind the house without traffic circulation papers as no insurance and british number plates. The car was filled up with trash and i felt comfortable to be alone. After a while i managed to blow the appropriate way to get a sound out of the wooden plate. Had no teacher though, so i lost interest and left the Sax by the trash in the car. A clear evidence for no talent at all.

Back to presence , I enjoy listening to the guys creating a really good sound emerging to a song. They decide to make a pause and let some fresh air in the small studio. As we step outside, the full moon appears with all its presence on the crystal clear sky.

Time for me to go on.

Glocks ‘N Coconuts

Rio de Janeiro, December 2019

Here I am again, with the member of a Special Force Unit from Brazilian Federal Police, wearing only a small part of his equipment. The complete full body suit, including guns, may weigh around twenty kilos, similar to my backpack if I carry along loads of water bottles being in the desert. The huge difference is that I don’t have to run around chasing criminals or protecting my buddies from being shot.

Wondering what my nephews will be like when growing adults, if they choose to become police men, professional surfers or politicians. They will grow up with coconut water, fear of random violence in the streets, the ocean in front of their doorstep and corrupt politicians. But one thing they probably wont have to be confronted with is the presence of terrorism. We are remembering the terrible attack in Berlin at the Christmas market three years ago.

This year, the whole family will be spending Christmas Eve in Rio. My sisters, my mother , my nephews and their fathers family. I love the idea of a big gathering as we have not had it since many years. It helps me to not think about my Mr P too much, as he is being quite present these days. Having trouble in walking long distance as my foot is limping and i am slow. Really have to concentrate while walking. I prefer strolling with the buggy in front of me so i can hold on to something. The other day we had to rush to the children‘s Capoeira class in Ipanema, so I swallowed some of the dopamine powder from India , dissolved in a glass of water, in order to be able to walk fast. It was fun gaining back my speed but unfortunately it only lasts about three hours. Anyway, i am happy and super healthy in any other aspect and enjoy beach time, peruvian Ceviche and Pisco Sour with my mother and my sisters when kids at their father.

Merry Christmas

Mother’s Finest

Rio, December 2019

The twin boys are two and a half now. They rock. And roll. And are the best to be with. But it is so tiring and absolutely challenging to deal with as a single working mom. Normally, the Nanny takes care of them during working hours five days a week. But it is her month off , therefore i have the pleasure to overtake this role.

They are starting to talk trilingual. Portuguese with the father’s family, spanish with the peruvian nanny and german with us. It is so exciting to see how they welcome every day as a new excitement and how fast they learn new words , repeating everything you say. They even know how to read letters and distinguish colours and forms. I am such a proud auntie. Though running behind them all day long when they pee in their pants as no dypers wanted anymore, or cleaning off their twin boy desaster games, washing dishes after feeding etc.

Unfortunately they don’t like my food. I am a horrible cook anyway , but even simple things i thought would be easy to make tasty. No way, they are used to good tasty healthy food. And so my sister has to prepare every evening next day‘s food for them.

She is my hero. When coming home from work, all her attention goes to the boys while i lay on the sofa, tired after and action filled day. I think about the underrated mother role in the old days when the husband came home from work and lifted up the feet on the couch to open a beer. The mother had to do absolutely everything cause she was just a house wife taking care of the kids. What a nightmare of injustice.

We go on playing games with them. Exhausted and happy , we cuddle and kiss them into their beds after reading a german good night story.

My sister and i allow us to drink a bottle of white wine on the balcony , enjoying time for us. We end up opening another one. But we would only do that once because next day‘s pill is very hard to swallow. Hang over is so much worse with kids than in the office. Guggi had an important event to assist next day though, and the boys have a bad day too as fighting , wining and screaming all day. It seemed as they wanted to share solidarity with my hang over mood.

Hommage à Sabrina

Portugal, November 2019

Boys, boys, boys, i‘m looking for a good time, boys, boys, boys…

German Identity

Hessen, Germany, November 2019

I spend the day of the 30th anniversary of the fall of the Berlin wall in a little village in the south of Hessen. Back then, in 1989 aged 14, i neither had been in Berlin but on the little island of Formentera, not having a clue of what was going on in the world.

The only thing i knew was the feeling of guilt, in relation to the fact that i was german. This perception was though subtil but quite present, wherever we had lived abroad from Germany. The stereotype of the accurate, humorless german with Nazi background would be always wobbling in the heads of my surrounding society. It took decades to overcome this , and finally, in the year 2006 when the Football World Cup was held in Germany, a very delicate new attribute of self esteem has been added to the german being. It was the summer of joy, happiness and solidarity. Still a little uncomfortable but steadily growing, the germans would become more and more attractive to other nationalities. Soon, Berlin became the epicenter of new german coolness and life style and the rest is history.

Having moved to Berlin in 1995 at the age of 19, the historical background and present circumstances of the two germanys growing together during time of transition had a mayor importance in my life. The relief of loosing this guiltiness a decade later, had a big impact on my search for national identity. Nowadays , i can say to be proud of being german. No matter what terrible incidents are shaking the country , such as antisemitism attack in Halle , the NSU assasinations or the rise of the political right wing party AfD, i do not want to give away this new affection for my german identity anymore.

‘Cause the times they are changing.

Gipsy Lady

Portugal, October 2019

Deborah, my sister and other apple of my eye, has come to stay for a week. She had to postpone her flight twice due to work and exhaustion. But instead of relaxing, we organized a dinner party for her , the day of arrival, where she would cook the most tasty fish and seafood dishes with delicious sauces and vegetables to accompany.

Of course , we stay over night at the party dinner house belonging to our friend Uli and next morning it rains. We still have some fresh fish left from the market , so we arrange another dinner at our home that night. Next morning it raines again and we stay in bed watching series on Netflix for the whole remaining day.

Joseph and i go back to morning surf classes after the party weekend, when the waves have calmed down as they were far too high for us in general but especially for our hang over bodies and brains. The temperature has fallen, one can taste the autumn in the air and we get back into our rhythm of early nights and healthy life style. Deborah and i enjoy our sister time, taking walks on the beach and watching the sunset by the cliffs nearby our house. It is quiet and peaceful. We have time to talk. And hug. And tell us how much we love each other.

We are a a family of globetrotters but Deborah is definitely the most gipsy one. And so is her style. First visit to the little village nearby , i find her in the second hand store, buying hand made knitwear, dress pants and a tie bow. She convinces me to get that tiny little glitter dress , in case we want to crash the wedding party of people we have no idea of who they are. Joseph buys a very cool grey suit his exact size and so we leave the charity shop, run by an english lady, with things you really need in a surf community surrounded by wild and beautiful nature.

And we would go horse back riding on a windy day by the end of the week.

Serendipity

Procrastination

Portugal, October 2019

Back again in well known territory for me. First time ever for her. It is actually her birthday today; my little sister Guggi. She has come from Rio to experiment the cold atlantic waters and reunify with Joseph and myself , since our last trip to Costa Rica in february.

Him and i had decided to rent a house for the whole month of october and spend our time doing both mental and physical workout. In the morning participating in surf lessons, in the afternoon working on our projects with laptops on the sofa or simply doing some sight seeing in the area. We have also joined the local tennis club and received a yearly membership with a code to access the court. And there we play like real professional amateurs with jazz coming out of our portable music box placed by the net. Guggi meanwhile taking pictures of us because Joseph looks absolutely hilarious in his pink outfit. I realize that i am wearing the same clothes of shorts, leggings and t-shirts every time i come here.

He also wants to have horseback riding lessons, i want to do much more yoga, running on the beach by sunset , go and see friends for dinner or finish reading a book. But the most important thing, which is writing my own book, seems to be the least i do. I hate myself for that. Why the hell can‘t i go on with something that has absolut priority right now? But first i‘ll have a cup of tea, hang up the laundry , kill mosquitos in the bedroom , get rid of last night‘s birthday candle wax on the table , count the pieces of the domino we played last night, watch the drunken karaoke videos we did after playing domino and , last but not least, correct my eye brows with the tweezers in front of the mirror. And, of course, i also get rid of those two black hairs coming out every so often around my right breast.

Don‘t you say to seize the day?

Parki Buddies

Sardinia, September 2019

Nicole and i met in 2014 for the first time in Munich. She is the wife of one of my childhood friends. I was supposed to fly back to Berlin but the pilot cancelled the flight in order to watch the Football World Cup Finals that evening. And so i returned to the city from Munich airport and watched the match with her and Boris, my old friend. It was out of the question to watch it at the airport alone and wait for a midnight flight back home.

To be honest, her and i did not really fancy each other that much. Only until she contacted me from the hospital last year, when going through clinical tests, we sympathized. Her case is more complicated as she has another rare variation of Parkinson. We talked for hours on the phone, share same age, same symptoms and the same attitude towards medication and other related issues. We would , from then on, always stay in touch with the latest news on science research or simply share sarcastic jokes and laugh about our situation.

By chance, we happen to be on Sardinia at the same time and decided to spend a wonderful day together. I slept on the couch in her bungalow before heading back to Berlin next day and we really really enjoyed each other‘s company. It is so relaxing to find someone to talk about things you never ever dare to mention or make a fuzz about. We don‘t like to put anybody in an awkward situation just because we have an incurable deteriorating disease turning us into severely disabled sooner or later. She is so good in giving me advice in some things. And we watch each other moving , or better said , not moving because of that bloody stiffness. We swim, sun bath, eat ice cream and stuff each other with seafood for dinner, drink white wine and exchange dopamine experiences. Thank god nobody can listen to our table conversations. Very intense, respectful and caring moments later , we get home into bed and fall into deep sleep. Tomorrow is another day in paradise, as long as it lasts.

Happy Girls, Happy Life

Sleep over in burned forest or the perfect spot

Sardinia, September 2019

Today , Friday 20th of september 2019, we are having the largest protests held with Fridays for Future against climate change in more then 150 countries due to the upcoming Climate Summit of the United Nations.

As there are no signalized hiking trails in Sardinia, i decided to walk cross country depending only on my GPS and trekking experience i gained over the last twenty years. Therefore i am able to explore the country side where nobody would really walk through. Sometimes i get lost. For instance, that one day i had to spend the night in a forest after a recent fire as the sun was disappearing and i had no time left to reach another place to put my tent up. I am told by a peasant that the fire was initiated by some money chasing people to eradicate woodland for construction site or simple jealousy in territory issues.

This trip has been one of the most adventurous in terms of unpredictability. I absolutely had no idea where i was going or how i would end up the day. Flora and fauna is very familiar to me which makes me feel at ease. Water resources are spare. So that is the only problem to handle with care. But i do live from figs, grapes, nuts and here and there a tomatoe from the field, or a water melon heated up by the sun. It‘s enough for me, enjoying loneliness and abstinence. I love my self sufficiency.

I get to know quite a few areas around the island, both the high mountains in the east coast and center, as the deserted beaches and cliff walks on the west coast. The south was not too interesting and the north is too far away. Either i take buses, trains or hitch hike the main roads. But walking is the royal discipline for me, that is crystal clear.

La Dolce Vita

Push the needle inSulin

Berlin, September 2019

Last week, i visited a befriended neurologist in his clinic to be introduced to an interesting experiment with Parkinson patients they had started. It is definitely not a scientific case study but something worth trying out.

It seams to have a neuroprotective effect when injecting a daily small dosis of Insulin. I absolutely hate needles and usually have to lay down and close my eyes when having blood extracted. I remember fainting away in the blood donation busses , when donation was important to me. Back in the days it was a good money income resource as i was young and poor.

Now i watch myself pushing an 8mm needle under my tummy‘s skin as if it is the most natural thing to do, like brushing teeth. Needle is tiny anyway. Not a big deal. The only little side effect is that i am not hungry for hours as the level of sugar in the blood is leveled down. And because of that, this treatment is used sometimes for overweight patients to kill the appetite. I can handle weight loss, still more than enough flesh on my bones. In fact , i have to force myself to eat right now , because the stomach feels a little lazy and queasy.

Anyway, i have start started taking it this week only. Will be a little tricky travelling around with Insulin as it needs to be kept in the fridge and i will be heading off into the Wilderness next week with rucksack on my back , under the hot september sun in the mediterranean.

No Eat, No Pray, No Love

Best Friend Forever

Formentera, August 2019

Tamsin and i met in june 1986 when entering the class room to my new school. My mother had decided to leave Munich and start a new life on the island of Formentera two month after the accident of Tchernobyl’s nuclear power plant had occurred. I did not speak spanish or english yet but it was more then clear that us two eleven year old girls had to become friends.

This is 33 years ago. We have lived together in Madrid in our early twenties, spent a couple of years in distance, reunified to do a Thelma and Louise trip from Paris to Barcelona, filled with drama. We celebrated our marriages (her father actually gave me away) and i enjoy to be the auntie of her three daughters. All in all we know each other very well and there is absolutely nothing that could tear us apart as we have gone through many pleasant and unpleasant things already. I admire her for the strenght, her distinguished intelligence, her ability to adapt to every situation, reliability and her diversity in interests and curiosity for life. She is very goodlooking and athletic but always comes to late to appointments and has a tendency of messiness , collecting items or responsibilities and duties she does not need. Sometimes she would do several appointments at the same time just because she would not be able to say no to anyone. Especially after becoming a mom, the egoism and consciousness about her own needs have stood a little too far behind. It is a stressy life to be a good caring mom, doing a good money job within the field of studies with an MBA and on top of it building up a new business beside. No clue where she gets the energy from but i truly admire her, though wish at the same time she’ d step back a little to enjoy the precious time of leisure and happiness. One does not know how precious time is if you take it for granted.

Today, her father took us on his old sailing boat to spend the day in the water with her little girls and we felt like back in the days when we were kids.

Ain’t no Mountain high enough

Innsbruck, July 2019

Bernhard picked me up from the airport in Innsbruck at 9 am and we drove straight to the mountain lift where i changed clothes and shoes to be prepared for a journey of fixed rope route high up in the austrian alps. Never done that before, at least not being tied up the whole day on a rope. I do remember though doing alpin tours a couple of years ago, burdened with a huge backpack crossing the Triglav Mountain Peak in Slowenia or Transsilvanian Mountains in Romania. The High Atlas in Morrocco was challenging aswell but the best experience of stone desert up in the clouds has been the mountain chain of Picos de Europa in the northern spanish province of Asturias.

Back in those days i was fit and strong like a lioness and nothing could stop me from hiking up and down wherever i wanted to. Now i have to dose my strength in different measurements and i am more aware of lack in balance while stepping along a very narrow path, knowing that a wrong foot placement will drag me down to hell. Bernhard is close behind to catch me, if something goes wrong. He is a mountain guide and usually prepares and renews the trails when destroyed by avalanches or lightning strikes.

After that day we end up feeding his sheep and i get completely crazy about the many bushes of red currant berries, which i almost destroy and stuff myself with. It reminds me of the very few years of childhood i spent in my auntie‘s garden in Bavaria. It was so exotic to me. I end up taking a massive bag of those berries back to Berlin on my lap in the plane, overviewing the mountains i have been up on. Proud of myself that i can still do it.

Thank you, Lioness

In the Land of Beauty and Violence

Rio de Janeiro, June 2019

Had a lip job done today. Just tattooing the outlines and a bit of shades on my so pale and nonexistent german lips is an experiment. Had gone to the gym this morning and observed the elder Ladies chatting at the muscle pump machines. Unfortunately i cant distinguish them one from another as they all look the same with their hair extensions, puffed up faces and new boobs . Not to forget the make-up in tone with the outfit in pink, baby blue or emerald green. The Gays look amazingly good and quite full of themselves. A well-toned body is everything here. 

But i must say, everyone looks spotless and fresh strolling down the streets, no matter what age or social background one is coming from. On any sunday you would see people surfing, skating, running or just walking along the beach promenade and lane on Ipanema and Copacabana strip that is closed to traffic until sunset. One also finds a huge amount of obsessive people moving in slow motion. Worst situation is with cashiers at the grocery store where every item is turned around at least ten times before finding the code to type in by hand if necessary. It drives me bananas. On the other hand, if i compare to Berlin‘s passengers in the metro, some people look like an old toothbrush used for cleaning shoes. Beauty does not seem to be something to be taken care of on outter but only inner value. 

Violence is omnipresent and you never know what is waiting for you around the corner, underneath a cobble stone or behind a tree. Best thing is not to carry along nothing but a credit card and some money to give away in case of assault. I feel fortunate not to have been robbed yet though. Last time i got too close Favela area , was hiking up the Corcovado jungle but i chose a very rainy day and the criminals were too lazy to step out of their comfort zone. I do like visiting my friends living in Santa Teresa up north the city, which is a fairly dangerous hood to walk along alone and never ever at night time. But its cheap, funky and alternative to live in. Beautiful views on the terraces of the run down colonial buildings onto the south zone are worth it. You can listen to the funk carioca sessions or watch the parrots passing by,  fleeing from a nearby gunfight.

I became friends with special elite forces from the federal police who proudly use the Austrian Glock since half a year , explaining their operational methods by showing me GoPro films from recent incidents. Such dangerous profession this is. Pure Adrenalin Junkies with a big responsibility for each other and their citizens. You can only work until maximum end thirties , just like the football players, if you survive until then. As far as i am concerned , it is a little percentage of the military police to carry the attribute of being corrupt and working hand in hand with local drug lords. Anyway, i shut my mouth and listen to everything they say and make up my own mind. 

Vai com Deus

Study on Olfatory Loss

Rio de Janeiro, June 2019

Our fifth sense is closely linked with memory and is highly emotive, probably more so than any other of our senses. I lost my olfactory function in the year 2010, not knowing it was a first indication for Parkinson‘s disease. No doctor could help me out to find the source back then until i found out myself three years ago. I know someone else in a similar situation, having lost it the same year while we worked together in the same office. The only difference is he is not a Parki but lost the sense on a level of hundred per cent which is called anosmia, where as my loss is only eighty per cent named hyposmia. I do smell some parts of a perfume for instance but it is uncomfortable and strange. Neither do i smell myself, rotten food or my nephew‘s fully shitted diapers. It is actually quite practical not having to deal with smelly fellow citizens in the metro or stinky street corners  but can be dangerous as i don't smell burned food on the stove and it happened so many times that i forgot the boiling rice until i figure out a black cloud coming from the kitchen. Plus I have a gas oven. Many pots and pans had to be replaced.

One of the reasons why i never went hiking to Canada is the fear of bear. You first smell him when entering his territory and I would probably step right into him.

My sister Guggi got me into the carbohydrate limited keto-diet which seems to be very good to protect my imploding, dopamine producing, nerv cells in my Substantia Nigra. Must say i do feel good to change diet , thus energy and weight loss but sister has to suffer from my really bad smelling breath as the acidy ketones have that side effect. 

My great friend and author Bodo Mrozek interviewed me in Berlin a couple of weeks ago for his ongoing research project  „The Sent of Others - An Olfactory History of German Partition 1949 -2000“ he is working on at the Center for Contemporary History in Potsdam. 

https://zzf-potsdam.de/en/forschung/projekte/scent-others

How does the GDR smell? I do still remember the smell of abandoned Russian barracks or the burned brown coal coming out of the chimneys, being the only heating system we had in the nineties in East Berlin. How does affect the loss of smell our society and how important is it? On a more personal level smell is extremely important when it comes to attraction between two people. Smell loss can lead to difficulty in emotional relations and isolation or depression. Well, that is worst case scenario. In my case i don't suffer from any of that though i am not aiming to be back in a close relation ship with a partner again.

Anyway, i got used to the situation and wont think about the consequences anymore.

It is what it is

To write or not to write

Portugal, June 2019

It is very hot. I try to surf in the morning and work in the afternoon. Word by word, sentence by sentence, the book project is becoming reality and a challenge to cope with. Never done this before and i call up my friend, mentor and ex-colleague from a magazine we worked together at ten years ago, to help me out. Christoph has published various books already and is considered a gray eminence in his field of interest.

The important thing is how the structure is going to look like and which focus i am going to put on or what to neglect and not to write about at all. Swallowing some dopamine from India makes me able to run around the lake nearby,  right before sunset. Good moment to set up structure in mind before typing on laptop. 

Next day, i skip surfing and decide to cycle up a mountain area with a friend, thinking it would take us a couple of hours. As we get lost in the beautiful area with many serpentine roads , it turns out a full day journey of about ninety kilometers up and down. Our bodies hurt and suddenly the rain comes while speeding down the long and windy road. We hardly talk anymore, just happy to reach home soaking wet. It was a good day although i did not write at all. 

To be or not to be