Growing Up, part 10

A German Youth

Grown up in Germany in the 1960s and 1970s

   With the distance from home and the new beginning I've actively tried to find some new friends In secondary school. It did not quite work out to find 'true' friends but at least I've tried to put some steps out of the shadows of a broken family. I was still very cautious not to be trapped in false hopes and to give up my own opinion about what might be right and wrong. I did neither start drinking nor did something I thought would have serious consequences. I've tried to be responsible to myself and optimistic that one day I could brake free...
   Growing up alone 'without parents' had many disadvantage and uncertainties; it took many trials and errors to cover the mistakes of my irresponsible parents. As my beard was growing into a first fluffy mustache I've tried to shave it by myself. I used my father's cream, brush and razor and the result was - terrible. I cut myself several times but I took them as scarves of a teenager fighting alone with a never present father.
   Yes, a teenager should find his or her own way into society but it would be much easier if you don't have to do it all by yourself. My father was in charge to earn money, my mother in charge to spend money, nothing more. I don't remember that my mother ever gave me ever a hug, ever discussed anything or ever cared about me other than out of curiosity which she was excited to share immediately with her circle of friends. 
   A great subject of discussion was always my haircut. As I went to an Italian barber by myself, she found fault in whatever I've returned. I think it was not because of the haircut itself but she wanted to be in charge - her whole life. It might be part of lost youth without a father who was last seen during the Russian campaign, Operation Barbarossa, which was the code name of the Axis invasion of the Soviet Union on 22 June 1941. It is difficult to understand what's going on in the human mind or how different people deal with losses...
  From young I've tried to earn some money. My mother knew the caretaker of the school and, as my sister, I started to clean up in my former elementary school during the first days of holidays. It was a work of one week and paid very well for a 14 year old boy. As soon I've got the money I put in in my 'saving book'. A neighbor living on the 2nd floor delivered a paper once a week. As he grew older he gave me his route. To send the commercial newspaper I've spend three hours every Wednesday afternoon. The advantage of a confirmation in church is that relatives send you presents. As I've also saved some money by myself my parents agreed that I could buy a small 50cc motorcycle.
   This was the time when I've smelled true freedom for the first time. When my parents fought over nonsense I just jumped on my motorcycle and rode away. I didn't know anything about the movie 'Easy Rider' but I surely felt the same. In the beginning I rode with my friends but later mostly by myself. I could start and stop whenever I wanted, could eat whatever I wished and discovered many new routes on my own. I rode even during rain and snow, weather did not matter to me at all!

Rest on a motorcycle tour

   In the 1970s developed the disco music with something known as a synthesizer, 'an electronic musical instrument that generates electric signals that are converted to sound'. This created a new generation not only a musicians who did not even have to sing by themselves but also listeners who were open for simple dance beats. The Europeans had been very creative, the German producer Frank Farian formed Boney M, the Italian Giorgio Moroder produced Donna Summer, there was Dutch, French and even Spanish disco music. 
  The music was simple and the texts seemed to be written by a 3 year old. One example:

D.I.S.C.O [Repeat: x 3]

She is disco

She is D delirious
She is I incredible
She is S superficial
She is see complicated
She is O oh, oh, oh

(Ottowan D.I.S.C.O.)

   Not far from home we had a dance school teaching classical dance. Saturday evenings they had a disco for members. My friends learned classical dance and 'somehow' got me into the club. I was not very comfortable there because the music, which was not my taste and I even more disliked the people. They were, in my opinion, fake. From hair to clothes, from actions to behaviors it all seemed more a masquerade than a real pleasure. Each time I had to leave early because of a 'rule' of my mother; a rule which I was actually real glad about.  
   The rage was a new ice skating hall. Sometimes we just hang out. I was not very fond of the sport so we mostly watched others. Once a nice girl came along with a dog. While my friend was interested in her I very interested in the dog. She told me it's her friend's and she just walked it for her. So we talked about the dog and somehow I liked her very much. She was the kind of 'companion', a real friend without overdone make-up or anything artificial. A friend who would 'steal horses' with you, a trustworthy and down to earth girl. We've met later without the dog, had some nice conversation, danced together and occasional send her home with my small motorcycle, she holding me very tight. One Saturday evening I've got my first kiss in front of her door, a kiss I will never forget...

(to be continued) 

Growing Up, part 9

A German Youth

Grown up in Germany in the 1960s and 1970s

   With moving up to secondary school came many big changes. As I came from primary school 5th grade I repeated the 5th grade in secondary school. I was one of the oldest students but had some classmates were downgraded from grammar school.
   Secondary school was further away, it took me 15 minutes by bike one way and nearly 45 minutes by bus because I had to change the bus at least once. The school was not far away from my grandmother's house but I've never went there before or after school. She, my mother's mom, lived in Eastern Prussia, before and during the war a part of Germany. But in the winter of 1944-1945, as the Russian advanced, they fled Königsberg (or Kaliningrad as it is known in Russian today) in fear of retaliation. As my grandmother told us they left everything there except for the things they could carry, and were never allowed to return. 
   They fled in a train full civilians which was attacked by the Russians. As she protected her children one bullet shattered her left arm and grazed my mother's back nearly destroying her lungs. My grandmother's left forearm had to be amputated, my mother felt the pain especially after sudden changes in weather in her back for the rest of her life.    
   As I had already two semesters in English I was one of the best in class. My most memorable teacher during the whole secondary school (the next 6 years) had been this  female English teacher. She was very interested in my miserable family life and spend a lot of time to listen and to encourage me. She was the first who recognized that I developed a kind of hump which all of my sisters have too. I did not walk nor stand straight, my shoulders were bent forward. My mother said that we inherited this posture from my father but children without confidence living in a discouraging environment see no reason to be proud about themselves...
   In the beginning of the 1970s smoking was big in Germany. The secondary school had a 'smoking corner' where teachers and students alike could smoke. As my father was a heavy chain smoker I did not have interest in doing so myself. As a truck driver he seldom took shower on the road, as long as I remember he carried the 'aura of cold smoke' with him. In his car he had a real lambskin which he rarely washed, the smoke stuck heavily in the fur.
   The relationship between my parents did not change at all. My mother was still dominating while my weak father drunk his youth and his responsibilities away. Sometimes I wondered how my mother, a real miser herself, could afford coats made of real fur. It was not until my elder sister told me that each time, my father was caught with a girlfriend, he bought a coat to appease her. For a few weeks they tried to get along until the volcano exploded again...
   My father was Catholic and my mother, a reformed Christian. As a child I was baptized but have to attend a confirmation (lat. 'consolidation', 'recognition') in my teens. This means that I had to go to church for class once a week for roughly 9 months. In this class we had been taught in the scriptures of the Old and New Testaments, had to learn some church rules, the meaning of Christmas and Eastern but also Whitsunday (or Pentecost) etc. I liked to attend the lessons very much; the pastor was also my religion teacher. He was an 'open' Christian, I remember the outrage when he let a band play in church.

Day of confirmation as a full member of the church, 

me standing beside of the pastor 

   From him I've learned not to count on humans but to trust in the Lord. He told us that everyone and everything has a reason, might it seem good or bad in the moment. He also encouraged me to attend the Sunday worship which I did without the consent of my parents. I let them argue at home, my own joy and 'salvation' came from God himself. Many elder church members asked me why I come alone - I did not know how and did not want to answer. Writing this I still believe my foundation of the faith was build right there between God and me, a very lonely teenager in much need of affection.

(to be continued)       
   

Growing Up, part 7

A German Youth

Grown up in Germany in the 1960s and 1970s

   I sailed along primary school quite smoothly, did not much participate but followed attentively. 
   My parents were not only misers at home but also cut the school expenses wherever they could. Writing this I have to emphasize that the education in Germany is basically for free, from kindergarten to universities the tuition costs nothing! 

   As a low income family we could apply for allowance for books but my mother refused, she felt 'ashamed' to use the governments support which is a right! So she opted to rent books for the semester. This means that we have to take particular care of them because we had to return them at the end. The first work after receiving the books was to wrap them in a plastic foil at home. We had to keep the books very tidy and clean - no notes, no coloring, no torn pages, nothing! For notes we had notebooks! 

   When we needed school supplies my mother opted for the cheapest alternative all the time; if it might be a pencil cases, pens, notebooks etc. all was of the lowest quality and therefore cheapest price available. I have never seen a shop for school supplies from the inside, they were too expensive. Before the semester started a local superstore had back to school discounts and that's when my mother got very active. We had a long list for each and every child and then we went shopping like crazy!    

   I remember once my mother bought a school bag for me on sale. It was on sale because it smelled like leather - but really nasty. Because the whole apartments smelled after it we put the bag in the basement and treated it with different kind of chemicals and even stuffed a cloth with perfume in it for several days. But it still smelled during the first days of the school semester, even the teacher asked about it.

   As the German economy progressed in a 'miraculous' speed the local work force was by far not enough to supply the demand. So between 1955 and 1968 the West German government signed bilateral recruitment agreements with a number of countries like Italy, Spain, Greece, Turkey, Morocco, Portugal, Tunisia and Yugoslavia. These agreements allowed the recruitment of guest workers (Gastarbeiter) to work in the industrial sector in jobs that required few qualifications.

   I remember one day in class there was a rumor that we should get new classmates. And really, when a teacher was in front of the blackboard the principal opened the door and after him entered three Italian kids, two girls and one boy, the classroom. I was particularly interested in the girl not only because she was a foreigner but she was the first girl I've notice who had two different hair colors. From the top to the middle her hair was black but the rest was obviously red. I thought that this is very special until my older sister explained me that the black color is the original hair color and the red is the dyed hair grown out! I've never heard that there is dye for hair color before.

   The principal left with all three students and the teacher continued. During the break the teacher left and some students, out of joke, curiosity or even self-interest took the chalk and wrote 'Taker raus', a racist term spelled wrong for 'Italians out' on the blackboard. After returning the teacher was furious about these remarks and understandable punished the students. This incident happened at the end of the 1960s when 'make love not war' and the 'flower power generation' was en vogue. But these racist remarks confirmed also that not only my mother's mind was still haunted by the evils of the past...

   The day to graduate from primary school (in Germany 4 years) drew to an end. My mother actually had a very simple plan: to wait until each child receives his or her 18th birthday (the legal age in Germany) and, when the youngest reaches this age, to file for an divorce. This was her goal and it became true.

Graduation picture of primary school

   In my case the class teacher was not very found of the idea that I should continue 'just to finish school'. So, after the 1st year in general school she told my mother that I am too far advanced and that I should, at least, continue with the secondary school. I believe a lot of my teacher's high opinion had to do with that she somehow understood my bad learning environment at home and has experienced a very different student than the one my mother called 'the curse of the society'.
   Finally my mother gave in and I had to take another test for secondary school. I passed it easily and my future looked a little brighter than before.

(to be continued)