Mittwoch, 23. September 2015

bye bye baby, bye bye - two perspectives on abortion

September 13th is quite a special day for my best friend and me. For each of us in an own special way. This year we happened to spend it together. The two of us have been friends for nearly a decade.  A decade of fun and failure...
Eight years ago we were sittting stoned on a dirty matress in his room, watching Pontus Alvs´strongest of the strange projected on the bedroom wall as he said he would have something weird to tell me. His girlfriend, who he had been dating for nearly a month, was pregnant. She was 18, he 19 by the time. Getting the baby would not be an option he said slightly confused. He would gladly pay the 140€ an abortion would cost. They did not really discuss their positions in this. They did not find a consens. To be honest they did not really communicate the issue at all. She arranged a date with her gynocologist. He drove her home after the procedure.  This was equivalent with their brakeup. 

On september 13th four years ago I got up at six in the morning, putting on warm stuff for the ugly cold weather outside and hoping not to be late as usual. The abortion clinic was about an hour away. To be honest the atmophere around was pretty cosy and i felt way more comfortible then going to the dentist. Warm light probably to smooth the decision. I decided not to get an general anesthesia, a local one would do. And while a nice lady, I had only met once before to discuss everything, was inserting a mini hoover into my lower body, I was thinking how cool it was that she could just suck my problem right out of me. 15 min later, maybe 20, I felt only a little pain and tired but internaly so eased. The next day I had nearly forgotten about it. I would not have to destroy peoples relationsships by admitting my pregnancy. I would not have to deal with responsability and I would not have to take into concideration someone elses point of view. Fucking awesome. I could not have been more greatful.
My decision was made all by myself. I did what felt right for me in this very moment and in regard to my future life. Thinking now about having a four year old kid to take care off would literally freak me out. I m not a mum.
While my best friends girlfriend was brave enough to deal with someone elses reaction, she still did what she felt was expected from her. Maybe she herself would have made a different choice. Looking back at my own choice, I would do it again the very same way. Sounds selfish, right? It might appear fair to inform your lover about the consequences of your interaction but at the end of the day it s still the women dealing with the physical and emotional consequences of such situations. Although sometimes it seems women are expected to feel sorry and broken, to me it was a relief.
And while I was knocking on wood things were solved this way in the past, my best friend said: "If today-me would have been confronted with this situation it would be really ok to keep it. It would have been eight today." Gladly we could get stoned and watch the stars on the beach. Without kids....I wish every women would be free to choose which way she wants to go. I m greatful I am.

Sonntag, 20. September 2015

unfortunate scars

The left side of my face is decorated with a fistsized light scar. When I was five years old a kid from my neighbourhood stabbed a fork into my cheek. Can you believe a person sucking even as a child? I d rather be spooned then forked.

Montag, 14. September 2015

PTT - Post Travel Trauma

Wanderlust is a serious illness. To travel, to experience and add new perspectives is what infected people live for. Also to see new places, meet people, make mistakes and learn new thigs. There are two approaches to be found among travellers: planners and doers. 
Planners know exactly where they want to go to and what they want to do. People like this book return air plane tickets, look for hostels and accomodation in advance. They check transportation, the money exchange rate and make a list of basic sentences in the native language so they won t have any trouble at any given time. Weeks in advance they browse the internet and travel blogs to get an idea of the possibilities their trip offers. These people are lucky. Leaving with a small set of expections, that will probably be fullfilled they return after a few weeks to their regular homes and jobs and lives.
Unfortunately I don t belong to this exquisit group. Doers are the people I feel more solidarity to. People like us book a one way ticket 24 hours before the trip. Our choice is more emotion- and mooddriven. We go to places and just see what happens. We join people we like, visit places we never even thought about, stay at homes we never thought we had access to and make friends with people so different from ourselves. This approach is connected to  various difficulties. Due to its emotional and intuitive nature, it infects you, connects you and changes you in a very deep and sentitive place. Once you are changed going back and returning to the regular (should you have had one) life is almost impossible. People like us concider this new places homes, see people we stayed with as family and can t wait to meet our travel companions again. It s obvious : getting back home is suffering. It s discomfort and waiting for the next departure. After months of living out of your backpack, owning a wardrobe of ten pieces of clothing, sleeping on muddy wooden floors and eating fresh fruit from the trees, getting back home is reevaluating your old life. All this things you own and never use, the cloths you collect and never wear, the people you remember but dont care about and the structures you follow but actually hate.... it s disgusting and leaves some of us breathless. 
The change within leads to change of circumstances. You try to get rid if unnecessary balast, to ease yourself and get ready for departure again as soon as possible. But till the day you enter a train and or plane again your days are usually struggle. It s impossible for you to understand how doing a job you don t like and living a daily routine is enough for so many people. You don t understand why people waste their time on "friends" they actually don t even like or respect. You don t understand why buying stuff gets people so much more exited then experience. And most of all you don t undertand why they don t understand you. You are getting sick of justification and explaining things for the hundredth time. The things and people you had before will never again be enough. You met people along the way, that you feel more connected to as they speak the same language you do, cause you are driven by the same needs.
These are the feelings no travel guide or blog has ever tried to prepare you for. For the empty feeling of stuff-filled life, for the disgust of having too many options at the supermarket, for the ignorance of superficial relationsships. Trips leave you devestated and confused. It takes weeks and months to recover, get yourself in a more or less funktional mode again and sometimes it just does not. But be aware: everyone who really loves to travel suffers from this ugly illness. People just don t talk about it. Instead of great jungle-pictures i would really like to see every once in a while the red-eyed crying folks getting off an airplane from a place they lost their heart to. Just to make reality a bit more honest and help the realization that home is not a place but a feeling.
Take care. Love