When I was still new in Berlin I was always looking around very carefully every time I used the public transport. Everything was
so interesting. It was a quite unusual behaviour and the co-passengers, disturbed by my inquisitive look, would stare back. Maybe they wanted to see in me what I saw in them, who knows. Anyhow, nowadays, be it in train, bus or tram, I only wish not to be disturbed from the printed paper that I read, like everybody else.
Yesterday, the train was empty enough for me to assume I was traveling alone. An old lady located two seats away didn't require any recognition for her existence and I didn't notice her presence until later. In contrast to me she was not holding any printed paper in front of her and, thus, she was
not traveling alone.
When the train was passing
Harlem Neukölln and the edges of my field of vision (i.e. beyond the white rectangular) started to fill with an unnecessary motion and my field of hearing – with phrases that didn't fit the context of what I was reading, the old lady spoke to me. She wanted to draw my attention to three female figures of Hindu origin that just entered the train. All three were wearing long blue skirts with a spangled frill and pink coats. Due to their colourful outfit and their distribution of heights they would create a perfect set of matreshka dolls, fitting one inside the other, if they would not be so slim.
– Black children! That's what they're better at than us – producing children, black children, &ndash I heard the old lady saying. Then, still looking at me, she repeated her "Schwarze Kinder!" once again, but with a tone that was now almost begging for understanding. I kept on staring at the white space between the letters on my printed paper.