I had to talk to my daughter seriously. But why was the girl in such a situation? It was my fault, because I had not taken care of her enough.
And now she possibly smoked the stuff I had brought into the country or which had been smuggled by me.
But I had always made sure that the stuff did not get mixed and had never stretched the stuff. But here, the children were provided with contaminated stuff and perhaps opium to make them dependent and hooked.
Here in Germany, I had not made an attempt to smoke a joint yet, let alone to buy hashish. I was getting away from the dope and it was not even difficult for me. I did not have it and I did not need it.
The shit cigarettes troubled me more, since I could not get away from it.
I ran to an automatic machine to take a few puffs even in the middle of the night, if I did not have cigarettes any more. I had a problem with ordinary cigarettes, I was hooked. How hard had to be that for a young person who could not cope with such a situation? For the first time ever, I started thinking what I had done there. I felt guilty for the first time without a judge having to make a guilty verdict on me. Every time I had declared I was innocent, even if the judge disagreed on that. Now it was not a judge but my conscience which condemned me to be guilty. I did not talk to Mother about it, that I was to be blamed that the young life of my daughter was so skewed.
The older daughter was not involved in this thing. She stood for good.
I tried to hang out with my younger daughter like a friend. It worked, she opened up and told me about her problems, what was bothering her.
I asked her directly why she couldn't cope and I got answers.
First of all, she always had to wear the clothes of her older sister. The next thing was that I was always traveling and had never cared about them. Then it was the story with her mother. And that her sister was always passed around as a model girl, since she was so purely Asian and since she had a lighter skin color. Everyone could see that the sister was a Sri Lankan; but in her case, people said that she was half-breed. The older girl was going for guitar lessons but there was no money for her.
She did not understand all this and that is why she had joined with some young people who had such or similar problems. Everyone teased her and told her that her mother was a whore and that her father had settled abroad. What a beautiful family, they had said.
I reassured her and reminded her that I had shown them and would continue to prove that I would stay with her, her sister and grandmother.
Maruscha got new clothes and a writing course from her grandmother and from Papa at her request. I also promised that I would pay for their driver's license if both would not smoke until their 18th birthday. Since I had a well-paid job and Mother saw that money came into the house, she had an idea, which she presented proudly to me:
If we sold father's car and the caravan, which was parked at a lake nearby, we could build a house for ourselves. So the girls who shared a room together so far would have their own rooms.
The girls were thrilled, I was less thrilled. But Mother convinced me to go ahead with this. Since I had to transfer my earnings to Mother's account, several thousands of German Mark were already there, plus the additional money as a result of the sales of the caravan and the car.
Mother’s courage was enormous, she did all the paperwork and the construction began. Meanwhile, I had given up the Italy tours and had started working again in the local transport.
It was a parcel service from one shipping company to another, often around the Ruhr area, rarely to Hamburg or Munich.
I had become a real father and the head of the household.
Of course, I already had a local pub, where I drank my evening beer in the evening. Since I was always used to giving a tip easily, which the locals did not do, I soon had the waitress often at my table.
She came and sat next to me at every free minute and we talked quite nicely. Often it so happened that I came back later from my tours and was the last guest and it was on that day that it was the start of a love relationship.
The bride, who was married to Jesus
My leprechaun had not left me. He was still present and encouraged me to flirt with this waitress.
I had success and Helga was my next big love, at least this is what she claimed. This relationship lasted until Helga came one day and told me that she was pregnant. Immediately I was ready to arrange for the wedding but Helga had a different opinion and told me that she would never marry me.
She also told me why and that knocked me off my feet. She was already married! But she wanted a child from me. I asked her if she was off her rocker. Then she could have gone to her husband and have a child from him. That was not possible, she said, since she was married to Jesus.
I asked if this Jesus a Spaniard or South American because this name occurred very often as a first name in these countries. But the answer was clear: she meant Jesus of the Bible, she was married to him. But she wanted the child from me because I was such a good person.
With what else as I going to be punished?
Now I was also dealing with a mad woman. But Helga was not crazy, but was in a sect that came up with such a nonsense. My suggestion that I would pay for the abortion almost killed me. If I even entertained the thought for a second that she would abort the child, she would kill me. Helga also vowed that she would not make any demands on me.
I should promise that I would leave her alone and she promised not to demand anything from me. She just wanted the child and raise him alone.
The relationship with Helga was over. She also did not want to have any more contact with me. I was simply dead as far as she was concerned. But I heard from other men that Helga slept with them, but this no longer interested me. Maybe the story about her pregnancy was only a means to get rid of me. I did not care whom she slept with. I avoided this restaurant and looked for another pub. That way I did not have to see the crazy woman any more. I forgot Helga.
Meanwhile the woman who was still my wife was prematurely released from prison and went to Sri Lanka. I received a letter with some seals of officials and lawyers that she had got a divorce from me. I was accused of maliciously leaving her and was the guilty party. At any time she could determine what to do with the two children.
What was she thinking?
The children had German citizenship, they were Germans. Chitra is still Ceylonese and been expelled from Germany. Most probably she could never come back to Germany. How stupid she had become? But it was good news for me since now at least I was divorced. Divorced in absence, so it was stated in this paper, I thought!
I was a bachelor again, trying to find a reasonably normal woman. Should it really be so hard to find a normal woman for the rest of my life? Was it the women or was I to be blamed for my failure with them?
This time I took my time to find someone serious, eventually a stable relationship. There were enough of mayflies or one-night stands. It was enough to satisfy my sex drive but it was not enough for satisfying my soul. That was not what I was looking for. I was looking for an honest relationship, a girlfriend, lover and surrogate mother for my daughters; she could also be or become a friend to both of them. Maybe I asked too much of a relationship. The beloved one was probably not yet born, a sphinx, half Asian, half-European? Did I look for something like that? Even my goblin remained silent and did not give me instructions on what I was to do or not to do.
The construction site, where the house was to be built, was taking shape and the initial work began. The basement was expanded and a prefabricated house was to be built on it. A certain part of the input of own labor was agreed upon but I did not have any time for it and thus the costs were higher than what was previously calculated. The company came with the finished house and set it up in two days. By now even Mother noticed that the money was running out. The bank had calculated the repayment amount completely wrong. The interest rates had already reached a level that was corresponding Mother's pension amount. That
meant that my earnings had to be enough for paying back and for living. It was clear that my daughters would have to pay off for the house.
As I had promised the two girls to do more with them, I kept my promise and went with them often to their meetings. Both were in a billiards club and asked me to come along for the next price tournament.
I did this gladly, since I was proud of my two pretty girls!
We were also always in the limelight. They were midway between Asia and Europe, exactly what had I imagined. Coffee and milk coffee. So we went to this restaurant and I dropped them both in the billiard room.
My old friend Dahoud from Kabul
The bar was busy with young people but I still found a place and ordered a beer and a Jägermeister.
I noticed that the host was a Greek, and made my order in Greek, which probably seemed provocative to some of the boys at the bar, as if it was pretentious.
But the proprietor saw it differently and invited me to an Ouzo.
How did I know Greek, the proprietor asked me and I told me that I had worked for over a year in Greece in a hotel as a chef, more precisely in Corfu, the Greek Kerkyra. Of course I did not tell him that the hotel had been a prison. I just wanted to put my new, full beer to my mouth when the man next to me jostled me and I got a slug of beer on my pullover. This half-baked youth called me a Grandpa! He told me I should stay home and drink a bottle of beer watching TV if I was already so old and shaky. As a 39-year old man, I did not feel like an old man yet, I was still very active and was also not so shaky not did I feel like a grandpa.
Just as I felt, I slammed my elbow on the youth's face with the remark that my wheelchair stood before the door and I would use it immediately. But not for me, but for him, if he did not hold himself flat and piss off. I thought of my New Year's acquaintance in Marburg. In the same way, the young neighbor would take a look at the people, with whom he starts an argument beforehand, in the future.
In those days, I had got one in my lips and have never risked boasting if I did not know exactly who was probably going to be the winner. It was as if soup had been poured on the young man's face. But he turned taking a backward step away threatening and insulting me and left the restaurant.
He had had enough, I thought.
But a few minutes later he was back at the door and called me a coward and asked me to come out. He called me an old bag and a bastard. To put an end to this, I went to the door and out. He too was now about 20 meters away and had brought his buddies and had turned them on me.
I could take on the six boys but what kept me away was the bicycle chains that they were swinging in their hands or were circling triumphantly above their heads. I was not suicidal and I told them. They could come one after another, that would be fine for me. But they did not listen to my request and all of them came swinging the chains above their heads toward me.
I went back into the restaurant and asked the host to call the police.
But he refused with the excuse that it is not good for his license. He had often called the police for help and they had suggested to him that he should himself ensure that his restaurant was clean. Too much intervention by the authority could jeopardize his concession. He almost cried and said that I should go through the billiard room and use the restaurant's back exit. Everything would be all right and he did not need call the police.
All right for whom? For him, the landlord may be, but not for me! I was not going through any back door to save my ass. There have been very different situations in my life and I had not chickened out.
It was here in Germany, so to speak, in my hometown. And these were German children, okay, young men who were still very childish in their heads.
Besides, they were also cowards with big mouths.
What would I tell my daughters when they come to know of this? They were still in the tournament and were not aware of this situation. Of course, I returned to the front door and wanted to go the sidewalk.
But the door was blocked. There was a giant of a man in front of me and wanted to come in and I wanted to go out. We looked at one another a fraction of a second, then we recognized one another. Our reunion was as if it was a pistol shot. I asked the giant what he doing here in Germany and he was surprised to meet me in this small town.
It was Dahoud from Kabul, Afghanistan, the man known to Ferhadis.
The specialist in manufacturing and dispatch of chess boards.
The specialist for Black Afghans.
He wanted to know what I had lost in this dump and in this pub and I told him that I lived here and was just going to get beaten up. When he asked who was going to beat me up, I pointed my hand to the boys with the chains.
Dahoud turned and called across the street to the young men that they should forever leave me alone and should now fuck off and that I was an old friend of his from Afghanistan and if anyone messed with me, he would have to deal with him.
I stood there like a wet poodle and just shook my head. What had just happened? What I had just seen?
Dahoud was boss over small-town thugs in Germany!
They wanted to beat me, a German, citizen of this small German town. And an Afghan hashish dealer had to protect me!
I call that globalization.
I invited Dahoud to come up with in the restaurant and tell me how he had come to Germany. The landlord was highly surprised that he now did not need to bring any police.
I ordered a large beer for me and tea for Dahoud.
He still did not drink alcohol. He admitted that he had already eaten but he did not need alcohol but instead he had dope. Saying that, we came to the topic and he began talking to me. It was because of the Russians that he came to Germany as a political refugee and was recognized as such here. He lived in a small boarding house, incidentally, just 200 meters away from my parents' apartment. He was not allowed to work but lived at the expense of the state. But that was not enough for him and since he had so much of time, he got the idea that he could take care of his earlier business.
He found a way to safely import hashish and without any danger and these boys, with whom I had had the dispute, sold his stuff to the local clientele.
Many people knew what he was doing, and nobody prevented it? But he had them all in his control and they would not dare handing him over to the police.
He knew something unlawful about all the boys, which they had up their sleeves. Besides, he was strict and all were afraid of him. He was known here as the Evil Afghan, the Wild Man from Afghanistan.
We both laughed but I was serious and told him that I just had to talk to him about a very specific topic. Our conversation was interrupted because my daughters came to our table, as the tournament was finished.
The younger daughter wanted to know whether I knew the man with whom I was together. I told her that I had met Dahoud during my first visit in Afghanistan already.
Now Dahoud asked me whether these two girls were my daughters and I cleared that up for him.
This time he was the one, who looked surprised. Somehow I had the feeling that Dahoud and Maruscha, my younger daughter, had encountered before.
Was it all just a coincidence or destiny? I remembered the "Sadhu" the holy man in Benares, who had predicted to me long ago about my future. He had predicted exactly a situation like this. Of course, he also told me some more things, out of which already many things had been already confirmed.
But since I did not believe in magic, I had not shown much interest in these matters. But gradually I encountered things, which this "Sadhu" had prophesied to me. The holy man did not speak English and so an acquaintance of mine had translated what the Sadhu was telling me at that time. I used to believe that my friend had just told me a lot of nonsense and not exactly what the holy man had told me.
But he had also predicted to me that I would always have trouble with uniformed people and authorities. He had also mentioned that I would have a failed marriage. And that I would always have trouble with my relati
onships. So far so good.
He had predicted I would have four children. That was not true at all.
He also told me that my house would get burnt and I would have to stand and watch it and not be able to do anything about it. I did not have any house and would probably never have one. Since we were not able to pay for it, they would take it off from us again. He also predicted that I would be very rich through a woman but that I would not be able to enjoy my wealth for long since I would die after becoming rich. Quite logical that I never wanted to be rich and am not rich to this day. If I was asked on occasion, what I would do if I won the lottery, I always replied that I did not want to be rich. I was content to own only as much money as others wanted me to have. But the older I get, I often think that it would be nice to have a lot of money.
But back to Dahoud, whom I met the next day and I had a heated discussion with him. I now knew that he was the person in charge, who provided this area with hashish - even the stuff that was being offered to my daughter. Clear and concisely, I told him that if my daughter was caught again with dope or got into trouble because of that, I would make a lot of trouble for him. He knew that I could and would do it.
I demanded that he had to stop with the hash import immediately. He should also ensure that these boys were no longer peddling the stuff.
And my daughter would certainly not be offered, sold or gifted anything anymore. My tone had probably become very tough, since I wanted to know whether he had understood all these things. Dahoud soothed me down and promised me that he would look for a new business. He told me that I should not give him any trouble because of my daughter, which made him very sorry. I hoped Maruscha would not get anything anymore and that she would not get hooked to it and would be able to give it up. I never met Dahoud again, which was however due to the fact that my life changed again.
My Dream to Be Free Page 39