Die Welt im Notizbuch, Teil 1

Ich stehe im Gang des ICs von Mainz nach Frankfurt, lese endlich Ryszard Kapuscinskis Buch “Der Fußballkrieg” zu Ende – einem Buch, in dem er vor allem von Menschen, den Irrsinn der Kriege und seinen Erfahrungen bei Reisen auf dem afrikanischen und südamerikanischen Kontinent berichtet, und dabei immer wieder sein Interesse für die Menschen und deren persönlicher Schicksale deutlich wird (“ich hasse Schreibtische”) – und neben mir kommt es zu einem typischen Streitgespräch zwischen einem Fahrgast und dem Schaffner, weil der Bahnkartenautomat – als eigentlicher Übeltäter und Hüter des Systems – nicht auf Zugverspätungen eingeht, und in Folge dessen ein unpraktischeres, aber vor allem teureres Ticket ausgedruckt hatte. Streitwert: 8,- EUR, weshalb der Schaffner gebeten wurde, dieses auf dem Ticket zu vermerken (“..ich erwarte da mehr, ich bin immerhin Bahn-Komfort-Kunde..”).

Gestört durch dieses Hintergrundrauschen und der so unendlich typischen, unterschwelligen und angestauten Aggressivität beider Streitpartner, mische ich mich kurz ein um zu schlichten und darauf hinzuweisen, dass die Entwertung des Tickets durch den Schaffner schon hinlänglich genügend Beweis ist.

Es hilft alles nichts, der Kunde erwartet Service und Komfort, der Kunde hat – trotz mangelndem Rechtsverständnis – eh immer Recht, und nach ca. 20 Minuten Debatierens, trennen sich unsere Wege, und ich tauche wieder ab in meine Welt des R.Kapuscinskis – einer Welt, die mir so vertraut vorkommt und vielleicht gerade deswegen interessant erscheint.

Jung, dynamisch und ein kleines bißchen naiv schrieb ich im Jahre 1996 eine e-mail an Ostafrikas umsatzstärkste Tageszeitung, The Daily Nation, in der ich darauf hinwies, dass man in Kenia – im Gegensatz zu Deutschland – oft noch ein Lächeln für sein Gegenüber übrig habe. Dieser Hinweis wurde in der täglichen Gossipkolumne “The Cutting Edge” abgedruckt, die von vielen Lesern als erstes aufgeschlagen wird.

Letztens erzählte mir mein Kumpel T.H.User vom sechseinvierviernull-blog, dass er die Strecke FH FFM – Oberursel NUR noch mit vollgeladenem MP3 player absolvieren könne. “Der Akku ging zu Neige, und ich habe das Gerät dann extra ausgeschaltet, um auf der Rückfahrt noch meine Ruhe zu haben”, erzählte er mir – mit einem ermüdeten Blick in den Augen, wie ich ihn seit der alltäglichen Trips in der S-Bahn nach Eschborn gut nachvollziehen kann.

Meine Mutter rief mich im Zug an, und plötzlich strömten in Rödelheim zwei junge Kerle in den Waggon, die sich lautstark unterhielten. Meine Mum frug nach dem Grund für das laute Geräusch, in Folge dessen ich dann die beiden Spackos durch den Waggon zurechtwies, dass sie sich bitte ruhiger unterhalten sollen, weil es a) stört und b) ich telefonieren wolle. Aiii….“Aldaaa, machst Du Handy aus!”, kam als Antwort. “Machst Du Handy aus, machst Du Handy aus”.

Seit meiner letzten Bewährungsprobe in Kenia hat sich mein – für Aussenstehende fälschlicherweise oft als aufbrausend interpretiertes – Verhalten in solchen Situationen gelegt. Einzig der eine Tag in Nairobi, als sie unseren Wagen nach weniger als 2 Minuten blockiert und eigentlich nur nach einem Grund gesucht hatten, Geld zu kassieren, verbleibt mir als letzter emotionaler Moment in Erinnerung. Da war ich aber auch wirklich gereizt. Und die Kenianer mögen es ja überhaupt nicht, wenn man laut wird und sie damit mit einer Situation konfrontiert, die sie so in dieser Form nicht kennen.
Dies also als Erfahrungshintergrund, dazu die Müdigkeit vom Tag im Büro, veranlassten mich dann dazu, gar nix weiter zu unternehmen. Die anderen Bürohengste im Waggon waren eh damit beschäftigt, an ihrem MP3 player herumzuspielen, oder hatten auch einfach nur nicht den Arsch in der Hose, hier mal im Kollektiv der Jugend Respekt beizubringen. Ein Lächeln von mir als Antwort, und Ignorieren der nervenden Situation.

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Der Mensch im Mittelpunkt? (Frankfurt am Main, Gutleutstraße)

Zurück zum enttäuschsten Bahnkunden und seinem Ticketproblem: so wie sie hier in diesem Land mit einer Sorgfalt, preussischem Pflichterfüllungswahn und Ernsthaftigkeit gute bis sehr gute Autos bauen, erwarten sie auch im Gegenzug ein nahezu perfektes Funtionieren der Systeme.
Kommt es jedoch anders, brodeln die Gemüter hoch und kanalisieren sich innerhalb dieses, durch die demokratische Grundordnung (LOL) eingefassten Rahmens, auf solche banalen Vorgänge wie Ticketverbuchungen und andere was-wäre-wenn-Situationen, die – für Ausstehende betrachtet – in ihrer Wichtigkeit weniger wichtig erscheinen.

Und es ist ja nicht so, dass es in Kenia nicht auch zu verrückten, zwischenmenschlichen Situationen kommt (was dieses traurige und schlimme Beispiel vielleicht verdeutlicht), aber dort habe ich in keinem einzigen Sammeltaxi (“matatu”) erlebt, dass sich Leute so dermaßen aufregen können. Und wenn dann ist dies ein schneller Prozess, bei dem dann alle Fahrgäste – z.B. bei einer spontanen, willkürlich übertriebenen Erhöhung des Fahrpreises aufgrund von außergewöhnlichen Einflüssen wie Regen – im Kollektiv den Fahrer und seinen geldeintreibenden Begleiter zügeln und auf den Boden der Tatsachen zurückbringen. Im Zweifelsfall wird dann einfach das Gefährt gewechselt. Vielleicht auch weil dies das System ist, welches solche Vorgänge regelt (und nicht etwa die Regierung).

Ich wünsche mir für ein Deutschland im 21. Jahrhundert, welches innerhalb von Europa nicht nur als Transitland dient, noch viel mehr Leichtigkeit, ein entspanntes Verhältnis im täglichen Umgang und Miteinander, ein wirkliches Interesse und Offenheit gegenüber anderen Kulturen und Rituale, mehr unsynchronisierte Filme im Fernsehen & den Kinos, sowie ein gesundes Demokratieverständnis, welches fernab geschichtlicher Altlasten und typischer Systemzwänge der Kreativität in allen Bereichen mehr Aufmerksamkeit schenkt.

Manchmal beneide ich solche Korrespondenten wie R.Kapuscinski oder P.Scholl-Latour, die parallel zur positiven Entwicklung ihrer Heimatländern, im Dschungel Afrikas oder Südostasiens, “von Mücken gejagt und Durchfall geplagt”, ein Porträt aus einer anderen Welt aufzeigen wollten. Und diese “andere Welt”, die Erkenntnis, dass es oft auch anders (zu)geht, genau das wünsche ich mir hierzulande manchmal.

Vor allem beim Bahnfahren.

Wir sind hier nicht in Seattle, Dirk…

Manchmal frage ich mich, wieso Sven Regener von Element of Crime damals – wie so viele andere auch – nach Berlin zog.

Wenn es allein um die Unfreundlichkeit der Menschen in Norddeutschland ginge, müsste man schon viel weiter südwärts ziehen.
Alleine die Aussicht auf die nächsten Monate in Frankfurt/M ab Juni stimmen mich fröhlich und optimistisch, und der Ausländeranteil in der Stadt von ca. 28% (Quelle…äh?) und gefühlten 70% lässt auf mehr Freundlichkeit im täglichen Miteinander hoffen.

Unfreundlichkeit jedoch, so scheint es, ist gerade eine dieser Eigenarten der Norddeutschen, die primär auffällt und sich oft durch eine auf das Nötigste beschränkte Kommunikation verdeutlicht. Manchmal habe ich hier das Gefühl, den Leuten die Antworten aus der Nase ziehen zu müssen, obwohl diese aufgrund des Wetters wohl genauso verschlossen scheint wie der Mund.

Beispiele aus dem täglichen Leben gibt es einige, aber statt sie hier im Detail aufzuzählen, verweise ich lieber auf das geschätzte statement des Dudes: “These aggressions will not stand, maaaan…”.

Vor allem ist es mir immer wieder derbe peinlich*, wenn ich auf unfreundliche Verkäuferinnen treffe. Hierzulande wird man mit Sicherheit keinen “Dear Customer, we are here because of you”-Aufkleber finden, und irgendwie scheint scheint sich diese – durchaus antrainierbare – Freundlichkeit nur auf die WM letztes Jahr bezogen zu haben.

Es würde meiner Meinung nach so vieles ändern, wenn sich die Menschen einfach mal mit einem Lächeln im Alltag begegnen, auf der Straße auch Unbekannte grüßen (so wie mir Deine Mum das von Florida erzählt hat, Mathias!), Herzlichkeit zeigen und Verständnis füreinander aufbringen.

Die Schwierigkeit besteht dann darin, sich von dieser Unart nicht unterkriegen zu lassen.

(* Wenn man jahrelang im außereuropäischen Ausland für Deutschland als Kulturvermittler tätig ist und mit dem Land in Verbindung gebracht wird, dann schämt man sich ob dieser Haltung im Inland oft.)

Wahlhelfer, part 2

There was an article in the local newspaper the other day where the State of Bremen asked its readers to volunteer for today’s election day. I quickly downloaded the application form from the inet and applied for that position as I always wanted to do that kind of work.

Such a one-day job actually includes arriving at the polling station as early as 7.30 am and supporting the election official until all votes are registered, which means you’re home at about 9 pm.

Despite of being interested in that kind of work, I also wanted to see WHO actually lives in this area which had been my interim home during 1983-1990 – and since I had just returned to a familiar place for the first time in my life, a place I am sometimes ready to accept as my “base station”, I thought it would be great to see some familiar faces from the past.
Besides, there’s EUR 30,- incentive at the end of the day, and in my Kenyanesque brainstructures, this equals to around Kshs. 2700/= for a day of just sitting on a desk and making sure that ppl drop their votes. Dude, could I ask for more? Simple!

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So what’s the difference?

Besides of different procedures (voters get their electoral card sent through normal snail mail and have to deliver either this card or their ID card in order to vote), one thing remains as an amusing fact.

Well, can u see that long bench in the middle of the floor? We used it to divide the room into two areas for each electoral district, but ppl here – for some peculiar reason – apparently saw this as a challenge to change lines a.k.a. districts and consequently line up for another district. They just jumped over the bench as if they were back in school (the building is a primary school).

==> Whereas you’d probably see an askari with a rungu in Kenya, making sure that ppl keep order, there was no order here, just unbelievably “smart” people (~ 5% of them having a PhD) who apparently thought to be smarter than the rest by jumping over the bench the line. Idiots.

Needles to mention that the majority of the electorate in this district voted for a very conservative party. I guess this goes to show the actual meaning of permanent head damages (phd). ^^

The problem with many ppl is their inability to think in juristic terms – putting your vote on a piece of paper isn’t voting but instead dropping that vote into a sealed box and getting your name registered as having voted. The consequence of this misunderstanding is that they put every emphasis on marking their cross on that piece of paper, but when it comes to the actual process of registering your vote, many voters today just wondered about this extra hassle.

And yes, it was a nice experience today and I would do it again any other day. It’s a good feeling to be living in a society where ppl actually care about each other, and despite of these somewhat peculiar relicts of German history, I appreciate being part of the system, even if its just for one day.

Of course I just had to close the day with Bremen’s best product: Beck’s Gold! :-)

Uhuruwear?…..not!

While there are t-shirts available in Nairobi these days, portraying the picture of Kenya’s freedom fighter Dedan Kimathi & a “Mau Mau University” slogan for ppl like me who like to show off with this in the Diaspora…

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…there are also shoes available with a portrait of Ernesto Rafael Guevara de la Serna for those who apparently think that Che was the only “hero” out there.

che

I wouldn’t wear both.

As for the MauMau shirt – I *needed* to buy it, although I instantly had the feeling it would shrink after washing it – what it did, from XXL (!) to L. I am more the polo shirt guy anyways, so wth…

There must be a market out there for those kids who are buying these shoes!

(oh oh, the Kiuk in me suggests I should have bought a dozen of these shoes and sell them on WSF2007 earlier this year…damn… :-)

a stupid letter

Actually, I wanted to blog this in German, but then I remembered a request some time ago from fellow blogger DQ, who asked about “a post on what Germany is like”.
Well, Germany is just as diverse as any other country, and there’s a lot to blog from here, just as there’s a lot to blog from remote villages in Kenya. I am often tempted to write in German, but then I read a quote from a page yesterday, where they listed a few popular German bloggers – and guess what? Looks like there are only a few Germans out there who blog in English.

Wooooha, baby, I knew it! I knew it! I am sooooo Eurokenyan 2.0…. :-)

Whatever. No matter what language, things like “election campaigns” are just as dumb in Germany as they are in Kenya.
Whereas politicians in Kenya are meanwhile busy talking about proper leadership (as if problems could be solved by better leaders only), a similar stupidity applies to Germany, where – on a very local level – we’ll have elections on May 13th 2007 in the City and Federal State of Bremen.

There are about 13 parties who are trying to obtain some votes, and among the bigger players that regularly make it to the Bundestag – the German parliament in Berlin – there are smaller parties as well. One of them is the DVU, the Deutsche Volksunion, who today sent me a very strange letter:

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This young DVU candidate, who is about my age, sent out letters where he asked for votes. Well, that’s normal practise. EVEN the mission statements on the attached flyer aren’t as bad as one could assume – with the DVU being a very nationalistic, far right party – I never expected anything else but nationalistic issues such as that Germany has in the past contributed “too much” to the European Union or that the impoverishment of Germans should be reduced and so on. They indeed claim to be the German People’s Union, which is why they came up with nationalistic subjects which may be understood by the common people. Or in other words: just as smart Kenyans don’t give a damn if Raila Odinga keeps on driving around in a Hummer or a Jaguar, smart Germans don’t give a damn about such issues the DVU made a subject of their discussions. Why?

Because all these issues may indeed have an interesting core, but are completely out of this world. Because the attached letter is so blatantly stupid that you instantly question the social maturity of the DVU candidates. And Siggi, the DVU candidate who made it to the parliament in Bremen during the last elections, is just a living proof for…..well, let’s say: God’s humour. THESE GUYS, however, aren’t just funny, but also interested in manipulating those one that still can’t seperate good and evil. They actually went to some schools in the City and distributed DVDs with German music. Nothing wrong about that – but what would you think if a politician comes to the school of your children and tries to influence them? See?

There are indeed a lot of things that need to change in Bremen, Germany and Europe. However, I really doubt that the DVU will be part of the solution process.

And for those who are still undecided and who are allowed to vote – there’s this Wahl-O-Mat thing on the internet – a small applet that lists about 30 theses from political parties. Now even if you don’t speak German, pls have a look at it. This thing could be a perfect gadget for the election campaign in Kenya – maybe via SMS? All it does is listing all these theses, and then you can click or vote for what you think is best. In the end it shows you what you voted for – and what the political parties are campaigning for.
Makes sense whenever the electorate is interested in real issues, and when things are not only about identifying “good leaders”.

Kulturschock & Co.

Oh oh oh…Germany. Kulturschock.

I’ve spent the last four month in a dusty room in Embu, Kenya, and was happy with my life. Of course, there was loud music every night due to the bar next door. Frequent power failures, especially on mondays (which is why there are no workshops in Embu on mondays), used to be part of the game and the water sometimes required some filtering. Heck, I even killed a few Embu roaches and ate mud when I sliped on matope infested roads on my daily work to the office.

But it was nice. It was nice because I didn’t ask for anything else + it was enough luxury for me. Also, I was used to it. I am settled in Kenya. I grew up in Nairobi, this vicious little kijiji with a golden heart. I have my favourite hairdresser in Nairobi (hey, that IS important), I have my friends there, I know where to get my car radio repaired, I know many shortcuts in town to avoid the usual traffic jams, there are shops where you can buy anything you’ll need and there are good fundis who can quickly repair your car on a sunny Sunday afternoon. With or without my own car, I just know how to survive in Nairobi, Embu and other parts of the country. I live(d) in these two worlds Binyanvanga described the other day, and it just works. Home is where your heart is, they say, and my heart is in Nairobi.

Kenya…and as much as I will always remain a mzungu for those who just judge by skin colours, I still believe that I am sometimes even more Kenyan than many others who traded their patriotism in for a better life abroad. The beautiful thing about Kenya, I think, is that you can always be proud of the country no matter how far away you are and how stupidly some GoK officials behave.

And then I arrived back in Germany. I didn’t want to return at this time, I still had other plans in Nairobi, and also had some work to do. But life is ….well, I had to return. So here I am now.

And maybe you can do a post on what Germany is like coz i have a friend who has been telling to kuja and after asking for what i shall be seeing once there all i have got were erm’s and pauses.

…fellow blogger D_Q asked the other day. Yeah! I should actually write a bit more about Germany like I’ve done before when I joined the blogosphere & KBW in June 2005. Something to compare these two worlds, something that will make you guys feel welcome here in Germany. Something nice.
You ask tourists about Kenya, and they reply something like “oooh, that’s such a beautiful country…and the ppl were so nice!”. Yes, why shouldn’t they? At least, they live in a beautiful country. :-)

I wish I could say the same about Germany. Not that it isn’t a beautiful country, but I sometimes think ppl don’t or can’t appreciate all that luxury they are enjoying here. Have you ever experienced the feeling when you turn on a shower with clean hot water that’s safe for drinking? Or 24/7/365 uninterupted power supply at a constant level? Or smooth roads? Or even broadband internet?

The most of you have, I guess, but many of you also know the difference, and what life back home is alike. We know about these different worlds, and even in cities like Nairobi you can easily have lunch somewhere in small hoteli built of corrugated sheets in a muddy place, and dinner somewhere in a very posh place where cocktails start from Ksh. 300/= onwards.

See? I am still talking about Kenya. It is here with me. All these little impressions and things that filled up every day. I can’t talk or write about Germany now, not at this time, maybe during the next few weeks.

Instead, let me pls share some of the things I caught on camera while doing some shopping during the last few days at home:

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Ok, so I came across this t-shirt on a 2nd hand market for clothes in Embu. Yeah! So you all know BECK’S beer – but you don’t know that it actually comes from Bremen, where I am right now.

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“Don’t be jealous that I’ve been chatting online with babes all day!”. ROFL :-)

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…and then you walk into Jatomy, Embu’s 2nd biggest supermarket, go upstairs where they sell all kitchen stuff and the inevitaboool stuff Made in China.
Mbuzimoja and I stood in front of this shelve and wondered what this “thing” is supposed to be. I am clueless. Fun, anyone?
(and WHO buys these things????

The other thing I like doing whenever there’s some time during lunch breaks is to stroll through older bookshops. Those ones where you still find older books that sell for something below Ksh. 100/=. Like Chania Bookshop on Moi Avenue.

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Here is where you’ll find the last two remaining copies of the loooooong time out-of-print “Wilderness Guardian” handbooks, which are selling for Ksh. 1700/=, and which I really recommend to anyone who diggs such manuals. (story goes that in around 1999, I tried to get a copy of it from an online bookshop based in the UK, and after 3 months they informed that this thing wasn’t available anymore. My jamaa Kilonzo then organized it for me some time later on. So if you come across some fresh copies, go and get them!).

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Didn’t I tell you I wanted to become a chicken farmer?

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And THEN….ahhh….check this out:

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Ati? :-)

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The “TOP SIX ODM-KENYA WARRIORS”, beautifully arranged in a collage for a 2007 calendar next to a Kenya Cabinet poster and other indescribabrrrry kitsch. :-)

Now you know why my love for Kenya is….

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:-)

Embu nightlife

Last night my Safaricom air time finished and I still needed to do some things online. So I went over to the bar / night club next door here at Mugo Shopping Complex and….had the laugh of my life:

Grown up men, all drunken beyond this particular state when you would want them to meet their wife’s rolling pin (think of WM’s Thatcher character & u get the picture) were dancing to obscene Mughithi songs and the whole scenery looked so funny. Just like we know these dudes with their big Dorry Parrtonn hats and the pick-up parked outside.
Upon seeing me, one of the men pulled out his mobile phone and begged for a beer. “Look my mfriend”, he said while smelling like he had taken a longer bath in Changaa, “I mhave mtwo mshistassh in USA and Gaamany”. “Oh?”, I replied, “…alafu?”. He then showed me their telephone numbers and tried to impress me with that. “Yes my ffrrrriend, schoo juu mmbuyy mrree a mbiiiaaar?”.

Kirimu gitindagia andu njira – the fool makes other people stop on the road.

After telling him this (my favourite :-) proverb, he quickly disappeared.

And then I spotted this jamaa from Ujerumani sitting in front of his Tusker and grinning like Jack Nicholson in “the shining”. Now that’s another extreme: he arrived in Nairobi three weeks ago, took a Matatu upcountry and ended up in Embu. His plans actually included going to Mombasa, but then….he just stayed here. He told me about his job in Germany – a lorry driver who once studied political sciences but then skipped that university life for the real world out there. He isn’t rich and saved his last mbeca just to enjoy a few weeks of Tusker, Nyama Choma and hanging in boring places. Alone. Just one of those easy-going guys you can unload at any bar in the world – all he needs are a few beers, a packet of Sportsman cigarettes and someone to talk to. Nice.

You are standing there, looking at all these strange characters and thinking to yourself: Kenya believe it? Just like in a movie…

I am going to miss this place. *sigh*