We drank till everything nicely. That worked out great. The girls were all pretty and Mama Merinda was really nice. She had been already sitting at our table for quite some time and was helping us consume the whiskey. She was able to keep up with it well, I guessed that she would have drunk us under the table, i.e. she was less drunk than us. In the conversation with her, I heard of things that I had never heard before and would have never considered as possible. She noticed that we did not necessarily want to have one of her girls but that we had money with us. She told us that four of the girls belonged to her as property. She had bought them from their families many years back. She showed us the girls, who were about 16 to 19 years old, I guess. If we were interested, we could buy them from her or even rent them for a couple of months. Of course, they were also available at that moment.
I explained to her that we didn't have any interest in a deal with the girls.
If we did not like girls, she said she also had boys, and this one was particularly special she said - while pointing her outstretched hand to a boy, who however could not be identified as such. He looked more like a girl. Naively, as I still was, I asked about what was special. Mama Merinda made a movement, as she wanted to cut off her index finger with a hatchet. "You can make use either of the two holes in case of this boy", she explained to me. I still did not understand. It was Hannes who now helped me. In India, there was a prevalent practice to amputate the penis up to the roots, so that there was a hole at the lower abdomen, from which they also could urinate. I wanted to throw up, I did not and could not hear any more of this.
There was silence in the room and I observed the hustle and bustle in the room. The big ceiling fan over us made a squeak-squeak-squeak sound. Behind a door I heard a giggle and somewhere else there was a sound of moaning; it smelt of sweat, urine and Dettol, the ever-present disinfectant used in India. I suddenly became sober and it was my misfortune that I had to also go and pee. The toilet, if you can describe the facility as such, was a large room. There were seat-less toilets inside, which were divided from one another, consisting of a hole in the middle, a filthy plastic curtain that you could draw and a water pot.
A girl sat in the squat position in a corner of the room washing her cooch that needed a break, with water and Dettol from an enamel bowl.
Luckily men can urinate while standing. Let's get out of here I thought - what were we doing here in this hellhole?
This was one of the 10-Rupee-brothel girls whom the coolies from the harbor visited. But of course not the Europeans.
Even Hannes was very glad when we were on the street again. The air was not much better than inside. How did it come about that we gone to such a hellhole? It was probably because of curiosity first of all then the whiskey that had somewhat befuddled us. And yet now this realization dawned on me. Like here, I have always realized again and again that I am doing damn good compared to the poverty and the misery that is in the world. At 2 o'clock in the night, there was not a single taxi in sight of course. A rickshaw came in our direction and we did not have any other choice but to get into to it so that we could get to a taxi. We offered the rickshaw driver 5 Rupees up to the next taxi. The boy was on his toes and took two turns and there were already some taxis there. Very glad to be again back on board, we drank a decent beer immediately.
I did not go on land again in Bombay. Our next harbor was Calcutta.
Calcutta was a size larger in everything - as regards the stench, dirt, poverty and with respect to begging. After taking shore leave twice, I had enough. In Kiddapur, it was no different than in the streets of Bombay. I became acquainted with an entirely different side to my so highly praised India. I believe, that the India that I got to see was perhaps the original one and not the India, which we are led to believe in from books and films. India had always been a country with beautiful countryside, palm tree beaches, elephants, tigers and beautiful dancers or women in their pretty saris for me. But I was disappointed and had to learn that all that glitters is not gold. I saw only poverty and misery in the country of my dreams.
Just as Calcutta is not located at the Ganges, but at Hooghly, a tributary, so also what I had imagined about India was also not correct.
I was happy when we were at sea once again and traveled in the direction of Ceylon. We received the cargo at Madras for Basrah and Abadan, our destination harbors in the Persian Gulf. I already waited for Colombo; Ceylon was my secret favorite during this trip. I just hoped that this country would not disappoint me like India. I had requested for 5 days of vacation for Colombo, for which I received consent as well. It was well known that a ship could very well be in port up to two months. The 80 dollars that I requested would provide me with 950 Ceylon Rupees and that would be sufficient. I wanted to make an island excursion. It was to be a cultural trip; I wished to expand my knowledge and not always hang out in brothels
A Sapphire in the Indian Ocean
The taxis were a bit better than in India, the most of them were Japanese make. The driver told us that he was a Christian, which was however irrelevant to me. I was only hoping that he was a good driver. I noticed that he avoided temples and mosques while driving but stopped only at every recognizable Christian institutions and disappeared for praying. We told him that we would also like to see Stupas and temples.
From then on, he also stopped in front of such buildings and we were able to visit them. I had not expected such a mixed group of people with different religions or even philosophies. Our trip was over far too soon, because the five days were over. It was so nice everywhere that I would have preferred to stay there.
That was the most beautiful country on my sea voyage! There was not many countries that I had seen till then and there would be definitely many more still to come.
Ceylon is also called the Sapphire in the Indian Ocean. There was so much to discover. Sigiriya, Wilpattu, Kandy. And right up in the north, a small island called Delft. There were ponies there, a remnant of Dutch people, since they had occupied the island. The Portuguese, the Spanish and the English - they all were once owners of this beautiful country. But now Ceylon had its own independent government.
I went snorkeling the first time I was in Trincomalee. It was incredible to see the fish so close. Or these huge tea plantations in the Highlands. Also the rubber trees were very interesting and I was surprised that black rubber would be manufactured out of the white milk.
The King Coconut should not be omitted from my list, this is a not yet fully mature coconut, out of which you can drink the water. It not only tastes good, it is also supposed to be very healthy. You have got to try this refreshing juice. There was delicious curd (yogurt) with honey from the flowers of the coconut for breakfast. Or the glass of Toddy - fermented juice from the stems of the coconut blossoms.
The driver had his fun with us, when he invited us to have a Durian. I was surprised that he insisted we did not take the fruit along with us into his car, but that we were to eat it outside at the fruit stall. After cutting open the fruit, I noted the nasty smell, which was the reason why the driver did not want to have the stuff in his taxi. The smell was like used nappies of at least a dozen babies! But the taste was like melted browned butter. Anyone who knows these Durians, knows what I am talking about. We know them in our country as the stinking fruit.
Once again on board, I wrote 20 postcards, which I had bought on the way. I also wrote to my friends in Frankfurt. Even my parents got a letter from me and I enclosed photos, which the wireless operator had taken during the journey.
I had to get back to my work in front of the stove but after my working hours it was time for Colombo and the bars. The best club of Colombo was the "Tropicana". The whole crew was there, even the captain and the Chief Engineer, who rarely left the ship. Obviously they already knew all the countries and port cities. The girls were very pretty, uncomplicated and inexpensive for our standards. Not cheap, this expression would not be correct since they were of good breeding and class.
There was no major negotiations; you selected a girl, took her and drove to her usual hotel. It was mostly a small hotel and in the morning you paid according to the services. But the girls also were so nice that I had my sight set on one of them and wanted to get to know her by all means. Unfortunately I didn't have a chance with her and was rejected. I swore that I would get to know her during the next trip to Colombo, no matter what it would cost. But it was not possible any more this time. This was because we left Colombo and our journey went on to the Persian Gulf.
Basra, Khorramshahr and Abadan were on our next trip schedule. There was nothing extraordinary in Basra or Khorramshahr but in Abadan there were some distractions in our monotonous life once again. First, I was transferred to another ship and sent to the ship "SS Trautenfels" as cook's mate -baker and the colleague from there was transferred to the "SS Freienfels" and took over my post. Since the colleague had been on his ship for over 18 months and this one was not bound for Europe, he was given the chance to travel home by the "Freienfels". This meant for me that I had to still spend some months on board the "SS Trautenfels" - I did not have any problem with that. The "Trautenfels" was to sail to the United States after loading, and then back to the Gulf and from there to Ceylon, India, Burma and then back to India, Ceylon and the Persian Gulf. Only after that, she would sail to Europe.
No one was waiting on me, so it was all right with me to travel to Colombo, in order to devote my time to the dancer at the Tropicana. She had impressed me a lot, although perhaps also because she did not go out with any sailor. That meant that she was not a prostitute like the other girls there. At least that is what I thought. I was curious to see how it would be at the next trip to Colombo - maybe I had a chance? I hoped so and dreamed of her. But first of all, it was more important to get to know the new colleagues. I had to build a new circle of companions and prove my expertise once again. I had to explore the ship, bring the cold storage rooms and the storage rooms in order, because the cook did not given much importance to cleanliness and order in his area.
I was warned and given advice on how to deal with him, since he was often drunk and would be then up for quarrels.
I was told that it would be best to do his work as well and to ignore him. The captain had already sent a report to the shipping company and the cook would be replaced soon. Perhaps already here in Abadan or in Khorramshahr but at the latest however in Basra.
Warts-Elly and Persian Delicacies
There were indeed all wonderful conditions on this ship! I was hoping that everything would go well. I settled down quickly and got acquainted with my colleagues, who belonged to my field of work. And this is how I went with our steward Walter on land and I also got on very well with him. The "SS Trautenfels" was a very new ship, a heavy-lift carrier and it could load and clear up to 500 tonnes with its own loading gear without requiring a crane from land. But I didn't care for such technical matters. I was happy that I was informed if such heavy objects came on the hook. This was because I had to attach the fiddles (rolling beads), otherwise the pots would slip from the stove top. Basically it was the same process as on the last ship.
Once again it was time to celebrate my birthday. Of course, I had to take some beers to my colleagues, but I did not want a proper celebration. There was of course the so-called "Vodka Shack". A Persian woman with a very strange name "Warts-Elly" managed this establishment. You can imagine, where the name came from - her face was full of warts. I did not celebrate in her pub. I invited my new friend Walter with me to go on land. I had heard from our ship's agent that there was a hotel with a very nice bar in Abadan. We drove to that place. Fortunately no one on board knew this bar, so I was able to have a few drinks in peace with Walter.
The bar was nicely air conditioned, well-lit and very clean. You might have thought that we were in Europe.
To our surprise, we also found two nice and good-looking bar girls. Of course we were seated at the bar and not at one of the tables, just to be closer to the ladies. May be we could start a conversation. Except for us, there were only Americans in the pub. The number of empty beer cans on the tables attested to ample consumption of alcohol. Also three of the Americans sat in our proximity and drank their canned beer. We ordered Becks beer in bottles. After midnight there were only the three of them and both of us at the counter. The tables were all empty and we could talk with the bar girls. Of course, we were asked the normal questions: Where we were from, what we are doing here, how long we would stay and so we told our story. This was the case in every country, in every brothel and in every bar. But these two women were quite different. When they heard that we were Germans, they wanted to know much more. One of the Americans said goodbye to the others and left and so just the other two and we both remained. I could not get rid of the feeling that the two were waiting for the bar girls. They bought the women one drink after another and didn't bother to see if the women even drank them - they didn't care about that. But already for a while the women were talking only to us and served us beer without being asked.
At some point we wanted to pay. However, rather than to give us the bill, the Americans were asked to pay and escorted to the door. Protesting loudly and in an already very unstable condition, they too disappeared. As the last guests, we asked for the bill once again. One of the girls pushed two keys towards me with numbers. We were told to take the doors close to the door to the toilet and go to the second floor.
There we found the rooms and we were to wait. The even-numbered one was hers. I wanted to know what all this was supposed to be. The answer was clear: The bill was paid, we did not have to ask any questions and were to wait in the rooms. I grabbed Walter and pulled him with me towards the door. It was necessary for me to give a short explanation to Walter's questioning look and I pushed him into the room with the number 21. I wanted to wait in the opposite room 20.
Was this a birthday present from my Goblin?
I think I did not even mention this little guy - no, I mean nothing indecent. The Goblin always entered my life then, if something is not normal. So he was practically my constant companion. Usually he sat on one of my shoulders. On the left, if he was angry or wanted to misguide me to do something, which was not good for me. On the right, if he was well disposed and wanted to do something good. However, today I felt him in my neck - something new. I just had to wait, to see which side he would decide for. Left-hand side was for the beast and right-hand side for love.
I closed the door of Room 20 and stepped into a normal guest room with lots of women's clothing lying around. Of course we had got to know the women's names at the bar while talking to them. Room 20 was Sierien’s and Room 21 was Sara's. I had to think of my 19th birthday and asked myself if I would celebrate it with a "good" girl. I remembered an aphorism, which the boatman on the "Freienfels" had told me. It went roughly like this: If you go to a whore, forget that you have paid. No matter how much. Just be nice to her and treat her as if she was your girlfriend or your wife. She will thank you for that, because she will see you as a friend and not as a client. Respect her and don't despise her. If you have a girlfriend or are married, remember that you have paid and you want to have what you have paid for from your hard earned money. So I should now be nice to Sierien. However, we did not even discuss about the payment. But somehow it was for a liking for one another here or was I mistaken? Would there be a bill later? If so, I would just run away!
Sierien came into the room, I felt strange, and I fought the idea of running away. But I didn't do that, rather I enjoyed the close proximity of this woman. She sat next to me on the bed and told me that she liked me very much. In contrast to the Americans, whom she couldn't stand. Americans seemed to be so arrogant and thought that world belonged only to them, according to her.
In her opinion, they always thought that anyone who was not an American had to be treated like a slave. That is why they made the Americans pay and provided us with beer. So the Americans had paid our bill - that sounded good! If
they were so stupid and did not notice this, so what! I wanted to know what the Americans were doing in Abadan. She knew that a big oil refinery was being built close by. The Americans were there as donors, development workers and later on the beneficiaries of the profitable oil flow. Then it became clear to me immediately why the "Hansa" brought so much goods from the USA to the Gulf region. An airport was also built with the help of the Americans. I had noticed that the Americans were almost everywhere in the Gulf, whether in Iraq, in the Emirates or here in Persia. We could see their ships, which were still originally from the last war, the so-called Liberty ships vessels, constantly in the Gulf and at sea.
Like everywhere else in the Orient so also here: If you could afford it, you didn't go to bed before 2 am in the morning. But here it was on account of workload.
The girls had to stay up late and that too, every day. Thus, the catering service was not surprised when food orders were sent to the kitchen at this time of the night. So it was even now. Walter and Sarah had come to us and the girls had ordered something to eat. Neither Walter nor I had eaten real Persian food, which was probably what was ordered. We were surprised to see what was brought along in a huge round tray. It was loaded with bowls and plates - it was incredible! Dishing up so much food at this time of the night! I got curious and I wanted to know from Sierien what all this was, what it was called and how it was made.
She brought a piece of paper and a pencil and I began to write down everything. While we ate, she explained to me about the delicious foods. The oval plate was loaded with:
"Burma Tak". These are stuffed vine leaves that have been growing wild. The filling consists of a farce, mixed equally with half the quantity of mutton and chicken liver and half the quantity of half cooked rice. The leaves are filled, rolled cooked in salt water, drained and then baked while they are floating in fat.
My Dream to Be Free Page 7