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LL: De-UK: Guiding messages from my early teenage years that impacted my adult life decisions Becoming a teenager is tough. When you’re 13, you don’t fit in anywhere. You’re not yet an adult, but no longer a child. Everything is either wonderful, but also strange and annoying at the same time. You have to cope with mixed feelings and don’t know how to behave or which choices to make, which does not enhance your self-esteem. The hormones run amok together with the emotions and mood swings. This is a time when teenagers are very open to influences around them. Music creates desires and dreams In the early 60s, my girlfriends and I listened to loud music. It drove my parents mad as we listened and sang, or shouted at the tops of our voices, to songs like ‘Twist and Shout’ by the Beatles or to the Rolling Stones ‘Get off of my Cloud’ or danced wildly to sounds like Wooly Bully. Our music repertoire did extend further and included soppy German Schlager music, which we sang with ardour from our hearts. Songs like ‘Marmor, Stein und Eisen bricht, aber unsere Liebe nicht’ (marble, stone and iron can break but not our love) by Drafi Deutscher or ‘Dich gibts nur einmal fuer mich’ (you are the only one for me), by Semino Rosso, or ‘Du allein kannst mich verstehen’ (you alone can understand me) (Peter Maffay) to name but a few. These songs transmitted a message that we understood and liked: Love and Happiness forever. No matter if it was far from the reality around us, we wanted to believe it. When we saw our parents having arguments, couples getting divorced or relationships breaking up, it was mostly considered a failure of individual adults, certainly not the reality of life. The message of the music stuck and created pictures, ideas, dreams and desires. So, off we went, in search of never-ending love and happiness and, especially we girls, for that Mister Perfect. I searched long and hard. The first kiss that was supposed to lead to deep love passed, and love did not happen. When the first relationship ended, I was devastated, thinking life could not go on. Of course, you quickly learn: life goes on, you pick yourself up, dust yourself off, and on you go to search for love and happiness. Over time, the songs of true love sounded hollow, and I also liked to listen to the bitter ironic songs of Hildegard Knef, which seemed to me more realistic of life. They portrayed a different picture of love as very intricate, not easily achievable, and about broken relationships. The songs taught you a lesson: some people will potentially lie and cheat, and some will continue to love although they know they are being cheated on. Wow, I was fascinated. There were pain, disappointment and sarcasm, which was obviously part of life. There was a deeper story here. Not everything was in pink colours, but also darker tones. Even so, I still thought this sort of thing would not happen to me and that I would find true love. Films produce dream worlds Hildegard Knef was also a well-known actress, made famous by a quite controversial film in 1951, called ‘Die Sünderin’, (the sinner), in which she played a prostitute, who helped her ill boyfriend to die and committed suicide herself afterwards. In Bavaria, like in the rest of Germany, the film caused a storm of protests. This wasn’t because Hildegard Knef briefly showed her breasts, but because taboo subjects such as prostitution, suicide and assisted suicide were raised. In many cities and towns, the film was banned. Some cinemas defied the ban and showed the film. So, it happened in Regensburg, my home town, on a cold February evening in 1951. Several thousand people came, some hundreds came to protest against the film, but most protested against the ban and fought for the freedom of expression in the art that just recently had been anchored in the new German constitution. Regensburg was almost getting into a civil war, with people throwing stink bombs and insulting the bishop and the clergy. Well done, Regensburgers! That was before my time, but I am still proud of those freedom fighters in this conservative town. The film ‘Die Sünderin’ was a welcome diversion from all the other films that were shown at that time. In the 50s and 60s, people in Germany loved homeland movies, and soapy dramas and the German film industry produced many such films. Set in one of Germany’s many wonderful landscapes, idyllic villages or small towns, they involve good and bad people, grumpy ones with good hearts, an evil person, trusting children or loyal dogs or both. In the end, true love wins over animosity. Most people went to the cinemas to distract themselves from the past, from the post-war reality of destroyed families and cities. An alternative world of harmony, apolitical love of the country and dreams of small feelings of happiness replaced the memory of the shameful history of war and National Socialism. Few films dealt with the guilt and impunity of the fascist perpetrators or the social double standards. The masses of Germans wanted to dream and believe in miracles and not have to think about the many economic, political, military and social problems. Contradicting messages to the youth With all these mixed messages, no wonder the search for happiness in life and love became so complicated and troublesome for the post-war generation. There were ideas from another time, there were rigid moral concepts, and there were dreams of love and happiness within the sanctuary of marriage and family. Reality counteracted these ideas. The search for life As for me, I looked hard but could not find Mr Right or Mr Perfect. I doubted myself, was I not pretty enough, was I too boyish, was I not as men expected a girl to be? Although I never really knew how a girl should act or behave. I got on well with boys, but only as friends and not more. They accepted me as an equal. We had good talks and did great things together. However, when they were looking for a girlfriend, it was not me but someone more girly with long hair and mannerisms that I obviously did not have. I continued with my search for Mr Perfect, perhaps looking for my fairy-tale prince, hoping he would come along and carry me in his strong arms and make my life heaven on earth, sort out all my problems and help me progress in my career etc. Such rubbish that Schlager, love novels and films put into the brains of girls and women, and I guess it was the same for the opposite sex too. The fairy tale of the Froschkönig comes to my mind, where a frog asks the princess to kiss him as only her kiss could remove the spell that was put on him and transform him back into the beautiful prince he once was. I could say, I kissed many frogs in my life, but none of them transformed into a beautiful prince. However, saying that would be unfair. Over the years, I met good boys and good men, and we had a good time together, some long-term, some shorter-term. Unfortunately, as time progressed,, these relationships, for whatever reason, did not work out and we separated. Rethinking is needed At the University in the early 80s, frequently we discussed life and our purpose in it. Once, one of my friends gave me a copy of a poem called the Märchenprinz, the fairy tale prince, which is about a woman’s search for her fairy tale prince. She could not find him, but in the end, she realised that no such thing existed. The moral of the story: if you want to have a better life, you have to do something, become active and change it yourself. The poem ended: Perhaps then you realise the fairy-tale princess is you after all. This poem hit home and impressed me. If this was the case, then I had to take my life into my own hands, take responsibility and make changes and choices to get where I wanted to be. However, there was another problem in that I did not know where to go or what I wanted to do with my life, apart from searching for the fairy-tale prince. He and Mr Perfect were not around to tell me what to do. So I had to figure it out for myself. Not easy. In search of Career and Independence I decided to concentrate on developing my career. Once again the same problem: If only there was somebody who could tell me what to do, where to go and what to say. Perhaps somebody wiser than me, somebody with good connections to help me along…. Again, history repeated itself. I met many people, and some were helpful. However, most were like me, seeking or expecting me to help them and merely using me as a stepping stone to a better career. It was a long process which eventually led me to go to England to study for a Master's Degree in Public Health. I had to start afresh in another country, take on jobs in different areas, such as research and lecturing at University. Slowly I edged forwards, in between spells of unemployment and short-time consultancy work. Something unexpected happened Then something unexpected happened outside of work: One evening at a salsa dancing class (prescribed by myself to not slip into, depression), a dancing couple beside me wildly swung around and almost knocked me to the floor were it not for a handsome man who helped me up and offered to buy me a drink. We started chatting and realised that we had many things in common, such as the love for music, photography and travelling. This ever-so-helpful man became a regular feature in my life. He was so different from my other partners. He was not obsessed with his own career but was very interested in me and what I was doing. He was very supportive of whatever strange ideas I came up with. When I struggled with my self-confidence as I sought to achieve the things I wanted to do, he simply believed in me. Okay, I had to do all the work, the research, the studying, the writing, but he was there in the background, supporting me. When I came home late, as I frequently did, from a long day at the university, a warm dinner was waiting for me. When I decided on the silly idea to do my PhD at the same time when I had a very challenging job at the university as a Programme Director, he was there. He took on more of the household chores so that I had more free time to do my studies in the evenings and weekends. As a native English speaker, he was best placed to edit the various versions of my lengthy PhD and did so tirelessly. I still owe him a trip to New York that I had promised him for all the editing work. (He hasn’t forgotten! We simply did not have the time for it, yet.) In the meantime, we got married, on our Africa holiday after a safari in Senegambia. There were just the two of us and our taxi driver as witness. You may ask, could he be my fairy-tale prince? No, I don’t think so. After all, it was I who did all the work, and hard work it was to get there where I am now. However, his contribution was vital. Without his moral and active support, it would have been much more difficult – or not possible at all. I may not have found the self-confidence to go for it or the motivation and the strength to finish it. I would say, he is my soulmate. And that is more than a husband, more than a lover, much more than a fairy-tale prince and more than I ever dreamt in my teenage years. I certainly don’t take it for granted, but I do hope that it’s for life.

LL-De: When I was a child, my mother sometimes complained that I was never satisfied with what I had. It wasn’t about toys, but mostly it had to do with my clothes. I was fed up and complained bitterly when I had to wear the old washed-out clothes or jumpers I inherited from my big sister or cousins once again. Of course, this fate is still shared by the youngest members of the family today, but back then, when sewing or buying clothes, long-term or multiple use was already planned. Old skills and a new Zeitgeist Commonly there was a long hem on the skirt, which became narrower and narrower as I grew. Side seams were also lavish so an adjustment to the width was also easy. But I looked sceptically at this practice. I preferred to be dressed as neatly as my school friend Lizzy. She was the only girl in the family and always very nicely dressed, with nice new dresses over her petticoats, new stockings and matching shoes. Next to her, I felt like a clodhopper. My clothes, even when I put them on clean, were dirty or even ruined in no time. It was probably because I was a tomboy playing in the street with my friends and definitely didn’t give a thought to my new stockings. I wanted to win the race on my roller skates, not look pretty and come second. In the heat of the moment, I regularly fell to my knees and my stockings had big holes in them. Anyway, my knees were used to being scraped. But the sad thing was that instead of getting a pair of new stockings, as Lizzy’s mother would certainly have done, my mother painstakingly darned the stockings to make them fit for the rest of the season. There were no new ones, like at my girlfriend’s. But, there again, she never fell or skated. My mother explained my dissatisfaction not only with being the youngest of four children but also with the era I was born into. While my older brothers and sisters (who were apparently more content – although I remember my brothers complaining about their itchy knitwear) grew up in the post-war period (between 1946 and 1951) when nobody had any money, I was born in 1953. This was the time when the so-called economic miracle began in Germany. At that time most people were still poor and experienced only a very slowly progressing economic miracle. Others were wealthier than we perhaps because they had a business or a shop; they owned a car, went on holidays or could afford to buy new clothes for their children, like Lizzy’s parents. So, I grew up looking at better-off neighbours, comparing myself to their children and became dissatisfied. The priorities of parents were different My parents, especially my mother, were modest people and were less influenced by the view over the garden fence. They made the best of everything. I remember once when I got a new blue coat with a small fur collar. I was very proud and wore it to church on Sunday mornings. Finally, I had a brand-new coat and just for me! Little did I know that my mother and my cousin had made this coat from the old coat of one of my aunts. They turned the fabric over and sewed a nice little coat for me. Sewing was cheaper than buying, and the old fabrics of that time were still good enough to make new clothes out of. It was all a question of quality. Why throw away a nice jumper just because it had a hole at the elbow or had become thinner? No problem! With a piece of fabric or leather, the clothes were repaired and given a new life. A hole could be artfully repaired with needle and thread so that the jumper could be worn for at least another 5 years. And even then, the jumper was most likely ripped up and socks, gloves or scarves were knitted from the recovered wool. Make the best of what you’ve got The economic miracle was of course also evident to our family. We were able to buy a house as part of a programme by the Catholic Church to support families with many children. We were now homeowners, but that did not mean that we could afford a car or go on holiday. My father continued to cycle to work every day on his old bicycle and returned home for lunch, then cycled back to work. Every day he went to the office dressed in a nicely starched, ironed shirt and his favourite leather trousers, as he had done for decades. He was satisfied with this and always felt appropriately dressed. However, economic development also affected social norms about what to wear and what not to wear at work. My father was very offended when his boss called him one day and asked him to wear a suit instead of his leather trousers in the office in future. This request was not the only reason for crossing swords, but soon afterwards, my father left this company to work in a different environment. Later, when my father no longer fit into these leather trousers, my mum cut his much-loved Lederhosen into pieces and made leather soles which she sewed onto knitted socks to make nice warm slippers for us all.

Telephone and communication – changes over time LL-DE/UK: Last year, an overanxious mother in England called her son on his mobile phone to find out how he did in his exams. Unfortunately, the exam had not yet finished and when the boy’s mobile rang, the teacher, according to the rules and regulations, had to take away the pupil’s exam papers and, as a consequence, the boy failed the exam. The two sides of the coin This shows the two sides of mobile phones. Mobiles can be a vital tool for communication between parents and children, for example, ensuring their safety. They can also become a tool of control and interference. Similarly, using the internet can be a great help in learning, but research needs to be learned and knowledge about prohibited plagiarism and copyright should also be available. The use of mobile phones at school is controversial, unlike the Internet. On the one hand, it could be very valuable for use in class, for example, for quick research; on the other hand, it can become a disruptive factor or even an instrument of bullying. From time to time, a ban on mobile phones in schools is therefore discussed in England. In Germany, mobiles are not allowed to be used at schools whatsoever. Mobile phones – a new body part of young people However, nowadays, mobile phones are generally indispensable. A recent study in the UK by Childwise, based on a survey of 2167 young people aged between 5 and 16 years, into the use of mobile phones by young people revealed that most children in the UK own a mobile phone by the age of 7 and that on average pupils spend 3 hours and 20 minutes each day messaging, playing games and being online. More than half (57%) of those asked in the study said they slept with their mobiles beside them in bed as they were anxious about being separated from their phones. Almost 2 in 5 (39%) said they could not live without their phone. 44% said they felt uncomfortable if they went somewhere and there was no phone signal, and 42% admitted that they were constantly worried about running out of battery and could not use their phone anymore. What worries do these teenagers have? I resisted mobile phones for a long time but finally gave in and bought my first little pay-as-you-go phone about 18 years ago, just for emergencies in case my car broke down, or to call ahead when I was running late or to phone my husband from the supermarket to ask if we needed anything else. I soon found out how useful mobile phones could be. Life has changed since then, and I have become used to my smartphone, but I also think that I am not and will not become so dependent on my mobile as the young people in the above study. After all, I grew up in a time when communication media were still extremely scarce or non-existent. Over the last three decades, technology has advanced greatly. Recently, a TV report presented two UK teenagers with the challenge of having to use a rotary dial telephone. This kind of phone has been phased out and superseded in the 80s with a push-button phone. The poor teenagers, so used to their mobiles, did not have a clue how to operate them. The technical connection to the mobile phone had not been realised. Times without a telephone When I was a teenager, back in the 60s, we did not have a telephone at home. At that time, only a few people in our neighbourhood had a phone. Communication was different back then. Instead, we wrote letters, and postcards or visited in person. In case of an emergency, you either phoned a neighbour who had a phone and asked them to be so kind as to get your parents on the line or to give them a message; or you could send a telegram. However, telegrams usually caused panic among the recipients, because they were typically sent when a death had occurred. So, receiving a telegram was, therefore, often associated with receiving bad news. Even after my parents had a telephone at home, my dad, as a matter of habit, still sent a telegram when somebody died. Worries and reassurance, then and now The reason why my parents finally bought a telephone was because of me. Once, in 1969, I went out with my Vespa scooter and got delayed by more than 2 hours as I miscalculated how long the journey home would take. It was already getting dark, and my parents did not have any idea where I was and were very worried. How could I contact them to tell them that I was okay when I was on the road and had no public telephone around? Finally, I rode into a village to find a public phone box. Luckily, I found a shop open where I could change some coins. I called our neighbour to get word to my parents that I was on the way home, but would be late. Their worry was over for this day, but soon afterwards, they bought a phone, just in case something like that happened again. After my siblings and I moved away from home, the telephone became a lifeline for my mother as she was able to keep in regular contact with all her children. She became the centre of communication within the family. If we wanted to know anything about each other, we just phoned mum. She was always informed, and she knew (almost) everything. Constant phone calls even without a mobile phone When I lived and worked in Berlin in the 90s and shared a flat with several people, the only phone in the flat was constantly ringing. After a while, the people I lived with insisted that I should have my own phone and fax as they were tired of answering the phone as 90% of the calls were for me. They steadfastly refused to act as my secretary, taking messages. Well, that was understandable. So, I got used to having my own telephone and fax machine, but in the mid-90s, I was in for a shock when I moved to London to study for a Master’s Degree. In the student hall where I stayed during that 1st year, I had to share one payphone in the hallway with about 20 others who were mostly teenagers and constantly on the phone. My best chance to get to the phone was on Sunday mornings at 7 am when the youngsters were asleep after a late night out. Staying in contact from abroad With the increasing use of the internet, WhatsApp, email and skype, communication became ever more versatile and convenient. Many of my friends are in constant contact with their children, whether they are living around the corner or travelling around the world on a gap year. When I was travelling and working in Latin America in the 80s, communicating with friends and family was rather difficult. If I wanted to receive letters from families or friends, I had to plan my trip carefully and let them know where and when I roughly would be in a certain country and city, and for how long. When I arrived, I went to the agreed place, which was either the German Embassy or the Central Post Office (poste ristante), to collect my mail. Letters usually took between two and six weeks to arrive, sometimes up to 3 months. By then, the news was out of date. Phoning would have been better but was too expensive. I remember well the few times when I could not resist the urge to phone Europe and hear a familiar voice from the other side of the world. I also remember the shock of having to pay up to US 120 for 3 minutes for that pleasure. When I worked as a journalist and wanted my articles to arrive quickly, I had to phone and read out what I had written over the phone, hoping the line was okay and the person, on the other hand, was able to understand and type up every word verbatim I was saying. Luckily, I did not have to pay for this phone bill. From the late 80s onwards, I started to use a fax machine in a central post office whenever possible, but in 1988 one page of the fax from Chile to Berlin cost me US $9. Needless to say, I didn’t use the fax that often. The agony with the public payphones Phoning home from abroad was not only costly but often also very troublesome. I remember the many times when I set off with a bag full of coins in search of a functioning telephone box. Usually, you had to queue and wait until the people in front of you had finished their conversations, only to find out that the person you wanted to talk to was not at home or the line was busy and you had to queue again. Then finally, when you made it and connected with the person you wanted to speak to, you had to be quick to put the coins in to keep the connection going. When you were not quick enough or when you ran out of coins, the conversation ended prematurely, and then you had to redial or get more coins and queue again. What a nightmare it was when you wanted to make a really urgent call and could not find an empty phone box. Then you had to queue and wait for hours until the people in front of you had finished their (what you perceived as trivial) conversations. Or when you wanted to have a private conversation, but those waiting outside the phone box were eavesdropping on your conversation or signalling for you to hurry up. Modern-day communications Nowadays, with social media, it is so easy to send photos or videos, respond immediately or signal how you feel by clicking on a smiley. You can make long phone calls for free to anywhere in the world – given a good connection. I fully embrace the new communication tools as they enable me to stay in contact with my friends wherever they are. I enjoy my regular long skype calls with friends from around the world when we chat, laugh and joke and discuss politics and put the world to right. Therefore, I find it rather irritating when I want to communicate with people who are not connected in the same electronic way and then have to sit down and write a letter, buy a stamp and take the letter to a post box like in the olden days. However, somehow it does feel nostalgic when doing so. I do not like phoning up people out of the blue as I fear I am interrupting them in whatever they are doing. It almost feels like visiting someone without having previously arranged to meet. Although, I am aware that agreeing to a certain time for a phone call takes away the spontaneity of the conversation. As the phone offers different ways of contacting somebody, I still prefer texting, sending emails or WhatsApp messages. That way, the recipients have the opportunity to read my message and respond at a time that suits them. The same applies to me, of course. I do like the convenience of my smartphone, and I use it for more than just communicating. It also serves as a photo or video camera, and I can immediately find the answer to any question via searching the internet; helpful apps tell me how long I have to wait for a bus or show me which way to go; I can order goods online and read the news etc. I don’t have my smartphone beside my bed at night like the anxious teenagers in the study. That’s the time for charging in the living room. However, like them, I get irritated when I am in areas where there is a poor signal or no signal at all, and I make sure I always have my battery pack with me, just in case I run out of battery. I have times when I do not want to be accessible, and I switch off my phone. I certainly do not want to have phone conversations when in a public toilet. Equally, I do not want to have to listen to other people’s private conversations on public transport either. I feel rather annoyed when forced to listen to other people’s conversations without the means to escape. I like to believe that I am in control of my smartphone use and, if need must, I could live without it like in the olden days. Life without my phone would certainly be calmer and less stressful as the pressure of having to know everything immediately would be removed. Still, I would greatly miss its versatility and the convenience of being able to connect to others. , During the troubling times of the COVID-19 lockdowns (at the time of writing) when travels to other countries or visits to friends were not possible, modern electronic media proved to be a lifesaver. They enable us to escape from the isolation of lockdown by staying in contact with friends and loved ones. Imagine how we could cope with COVID if we did not have our mobile phones, or the internet, but were still living in an era without phones. Or imagine how it would be if we didn’t have electricity. Perish the thought.

LL: DE/UK: Illness turned my life around It was the 26th of April 1976, the day after my friends C. and H. got married. I woke up with excruciating pain in my stomach. I could hardly walk or stand. No way was I able to go to work that day. I had to go to the doctor to get this sorted. My GP did not have a clue what was causing me so much pain and referred me to a specialist. This was the start of a week-long odyssey. I was sent from specialist to specialist, from the gastroenterologist to the nephrologist and the urologist, who, looking at my hard and swollen belly, sent me to the gynaecologist thinking that I was pregnant. (I knew I wasn’t, but they did not believe me). Nobody had any idea what was wrong with me. Alone with painkillers I was given lots of painkillers and sent home for the weekend. A kind taxi driver took pity on me and helped me up the stairs to my apartment. All I wanted was to sleep and for the terrible pain to go away. If I had to die, that was alright with me as long as the pain went away. From then onwards, I don’t remember much. My mother later said she got very worried as I had told her over the phone that I had not been to the toilet for a week and could not pass water. I had started to vomit dark brown stuff. Luckily, my dear friend and neighbour, A., decided to check on me when he came home from a Saturday night out with his friends. He found me unconscious and called an ambulance. The emergency doctor did not know what was wrong with me either but at least she recognised it was an emergency and rushed me to the hospital. I was not worried but rather relieved that somebody took the initiative and did something. The kind doctors in the hospital in Munich explained to me that the X-ray did not reveal much and they needed to open my tummy to see what was going on. Just as I was about to be wheeled into the operating theatre, a young lad was rushed into the theatre in front of me, bleeding heavily. The nurses who were waiting with me told me he had a motorbike accident and his legs were badly injured. Most possibly, they had to amputate both his legs. How horrible! I felt so sorry for him. Two hours later, it was my turn, and I was wheeled in for surgery at 4 am. Solving the riddle When I woke up, everything was white around me, and I heard bells ringing. For a moment I wondered whether I was in heaven, but then I heard loud screaming next to me. It was the young lad in the next cubicle who had also woken up and had just noticed that his legs were missing. I felt for him. A doctor popped his head into my cubicle and told me that I was very lucky because if they had not operated on me in the night, I would not have survived until the morning. He explained that I had a tumour on my intestines that had caused peritonitis and intestinal perforation. The operation took six hours, because they needed to remove part of my intestines and clean my guts. They did not fit a colostomy pouch (Ileostomy) as the consultant, who was brought in during the night to oversee my operation, thought it unimaginable for a young woman of my age to have an external bowel bag. Thank you, Doctor! Much appreciated! I was fascinated to hear all that but it took me a while to fully grasp the enormity of it. Over the next few days, I was visited and examined by several more doctors and professors. It seems that nobody had ever seen such a disease pattern in a young person like me, who was only 22 years old. This was commonly known as an old person's disease, which explained why none of my doctors had recognised it. Recovery requires a deeper look It took me a while to recover, not only physically but also psychologically. At first, I refused to eat as I was anxious that by eating the pain and illness would start all over again. I was bribed into eating by the wonderful caring intensive care nurses. They promised to let me have a small glass of Bavarian beer once my bowels were working again. As I was thirsty and fed up with drinking lukewarm water, I accepted their offer. It took me a while to realise that I did not want to get better and leave the hospital, as I did not want to go back to my work as a secretary in an office. I was dead bored and deeply unhappy with my job. It finally occurred to me that I had just jumped off death’s shovel and had been given a second chance at life and that I needed to do something useful with this new life. But – I had no idea what to do or what I wanted from life. There was no serious boyfriend in my life, and I was not interested (yet) in setting up a family and having children. How it all began I left school when I was 15 after finishing my O-levels. Like many of my friends from primary school, I had attended a Realschule (medium-level education) for girls, run by Catholic Nuns, leading to O-levels after four years. The school’s goal was to equip us girls with a good all-around general knowledge base and prepare us to run a household and support our future husbands. We learnt everything from cooking to needlework; even in physics, we studied how a thermos flask or a cooking plate worked. We also learnt book-keeping, stenography and typing. These skills were considered useful to earn money before marriage, or for additional family income or as a pastime once the children were grown up. Only a few of us 15- and 16-years olds knew what we wanted to do afterwards. A few wanted to work with children or look after ill people. Those few whose fathers had a business had their work laid out by joining the family business. But the vast majority of the rest of us, like me, had no clue what to do. A friendly but useless woman from the job centre, invited by our school to advise us, did not inspire us with outstanding options. She suggested that considering the skills we had learnt in this school, we should work as administrators in an office, putting into practice our stenography and typing skills. The rare times I had visited my father in his office, where he worked as book-keeper, I was impressed by all the office utensils on his desk. Besides the punch hole makers, staplers and files, I found it particularly fascinating having use of a telephone, something we did not have at home at that time. Based on these indicators, somehow, the decision was made that I should go and work as a secretary in an office. Soon afterwards, I joined eight girls from my school, and together we started to work in a local bank. Once the reality of everyday life in the office became apparent, I rapidly became bored with the daily routine. I was disillusioned and thought there must be more to life than typing up and filing what other people gave me to type, filling in forms and filing them away. I began to dream that I needed to move to a bigger town in order to have a more interesting and meaningful life. After three years, I turned my dream into reality and moved to Munich and worked as a secretary in a property management office. Something still wasn’t right, and after a further three years, my body revolted, and I had become ill. And it was then that I knew instinctively that I needed a radical new beginning. How it all started I still had no idea what I wanted from life or what my purpose in life was. Unimpressed with previous advice from job centres I decided consulting someone with an expertise in testing intellectual and professional abilities would be the way forward. Once out of the hospital, I contacted a psychiatric professor specialising in intelligence testing, whose phone number I had found in the yellow pages. I hoped that he could shed some light on what my talents and qualities were in order to help me decide upon a new career path. Perhaps I even had it in me to study at a university. Who knows? The results of the multiple tests revealed that I was blessed with mediocre intelligence and had a talent for looking after children. A potential career as a childminder working in a Kindergarten was the professor’s recommendation. His fatherly advice was: “Don’t dream of going to a university because studying is not within your intellectual capabilities.” What? Come again? I already knew that I was not a genius or an intellectual highflyer, but his professional pearls of wisdom shocked me quite a bit. At least I had expected a range of career options from which to choose, based on the science of the psychological tests rather than a judgement purely based on his male values and views of what a young girl like me should do with her life. Believe in yourself! Exasperated, I phoned my brother, who was studying Psychology in Berlin, for advice. His response was: “I can’t see any reason why you shouldn’t go to University. I simply thought that you were not interested in studying.” From then on, everything fell into place. A friend told me about an interesting school project in Berlin for mature students to gain their A-levels. This alternative school was special in the sense that students and teachers ran the school together. Students were respected as equals, and students and teachers decided together as to what subjects to learn during the next term. That was just the right thing for me, and I decided to give it a go. However, there was just a little barrier to overcome: My father was dead against my idea of leaving my job and going back to school. He was brought up in the traditional way in that he did not believe this was what girls should do. He wanted the best for me, and in his view, it was getting a husband to look after me and have children, which would give me purpose in life. Unfortunately, this was not what I wanted. He was not willing to contribute to my school fees and my new life as a student. Added to this, it dawned on me that by then, I was used to having my own income and being independent. Not having a regular monthly salary was a frightening concept. However, I calculated and made enquiries. I learned as a mature student I was entitled to a student loan, independent from my parents’ income, and with a bit of work besides my studies, I reckoned I should be able to pay the school fees, the rent and my cost of living. This strategy and my siblings’ mediation on my behalf persuaded my father to let me do what I wanted to do. Moreover, as a gesture of goodwill, he went with me to purchase an electric typewriter that would help me to get work, for example, typing dissertations for other people (needless to say, I had to pay for the typewriter myself). Stepping into a new life Finally, equipped with my new electric typewriter, I moved to Berlin and never looked back. I was enthusiastic about the school, about Berlin and about my new life. There was so much to do and so much to learn. I had so much catching up to do, and there were not enough hours in a day. I felt free to do anything, and, more importantly, I had the energy. I got involved in the school’s administration, became an activist in the feminist, environmental and peace movements and got involved in third-world activities. By the way, the typing skills I was taught and my little typewriter proved very useful. For many years both provided me with valid income not only for my student life in Berlin but also to fund my travels, project work and studies in various Latin American countries. The lived experience of alternative education for adults, together with my health scare, gave me inspiration. They were vital influences and education and health were, to some extent, a constant throughout my professional career. I went to University to study adult education, and I became involved in alternative education projects (education for peace, environment, women’s equality etc). I worked on literacy campaigns and with health education projects in Nicaragua. Back in Berlin, I moved into the area of health education (women’s health and wider health promotion) and public health. My Master's dissertation in London was on the topic of improving health service provision for migrants in Germany. My PhD was on developing and testing educational training to enhance cultural competence in staff in health and social services who work with clients from different cultural and social backgrounds. I also conducted research analysing health service provision for people with HIV, drug and alcohol or mental health problems and for people who had experienced domestic violence. I identified gaps and made recommendations on how to improve health systems. After years of training nurses and social workers at a London University, I set up a Recovery College for people who had suffered from drug and alcohol addiction and mental health problems, and by doing so, help them to reintegrate back into society and to get a job. Feedback to the Expert My message to the Professor in Munich: I proved you wrong. There was more in me than working as a nursery teacher in a Kindergarten – not that there is anything wrong with being a nursery teacher, but it simply wasn’t for me. I wanted something else. I wanted to find my own purpose in life. I wanted to develop my own dreams and follow them. I wanted to be free to choose my own goals, and through my work, I wanted to help other people to reach their potential. I achieved all this, despite or perhaps because of some stumbling blocks like illness, incorrect analysis and stereotypical male views of women. (LL)

LL-UK: It was a drizzly November afternoon in 2009 when my siblings and I were admiring the Wembley Arena in London, the site of the infamous England v Germany football match in 1966. Even today, England still rejoices in this rare victory over Germany. I, too, should associate my own personal victory with this site. Peak and painful descent We were on our way to the award ceremony, an event organised by my university at the Wembley Conference Centre, where I was to receive my doctoral certificate. I had done it! After six years of hard work, researching and writing my PhD thesis whilst working in my full-time job at the university, I must admit that I enjoyed being congratulated by my professors, my work colleagues and my family. One of my brothers and my sister had travelled all the way from Germany as they did not want to miss their little sister’s big moment. The hard and difficult years of my doctoral programme were forgotten. I was full of energy and now officially a Doctor and more than ready to take on any new challenges. I had many ideas on how to advance the Bachelor’s programme that I had led for the past 12 years at the university, and I was also aiming for a professorship in the not-too-distant future. However, I had no idea that this would not turn out as I had planned. The new university leadership introduced rationalisation measures throughout the university to cope with the Tory government’s cutbacks, which severely affected all sections of society, including the education sector. These soon had an impact on my programme. As a result, instead of expanding and extending it as planned, I had to fight to maintain the status quo. My colleagues were frustrated and gradually lost their enthusiasm for our work and their fighting spirit. As a result, half of them accepted severance packages from the university and resigned. However, the students in the programme were still there, expecting courses to be taught and supported. This work now had to be shared with the remaining staff. I was determined not to give up and kept going, but it felt as if I was banging my head against a brick wall every day. Over the following months, I worked harder and longer just to keep the programme alive and support the students. I was at my desk at 7 a.m., and often my husband would call me at 8 p.m., saying enough was enough and that I should come home as dinner was ready. That was a white lie because he knew that I had a 45 minutes drive home. That was his way of getting me to down tools and come home. Even though I worked weekends, the mountain of work was unsurmountable and the work felt harder by the day. In fact, I was getting slower and slower and became less effective. I could not sleep; my brain could not rest and would not switch off. I also noticed that my memory was not as good as it used to be. Faced with simple tasks, my mind would sometimes go blank, and I forgot what I was supposed to do. I realised that I could no longer rely on my sharp mind that I used to be so proud of. This greatly affected my self-confidence and increased my already high stress levels. I gazed into the abyss and kept going. Insight, acceptance and a new beginning In a much-needed holiday in Crete, during which David, my husband and I had many conversations, I gradually realised that I was on the verge of becoming seriously ill and that I had to leave the university to recover. The recovery process was very slow. In fact, a psychologist and specialist in burnout warned me that the recovery process would take a long time. After three months, most people recover to 30%; the remaining 70% of recovery can take years or even decades. Now, after the passage of more than 10 years, I am much better, but I still get easily stressed, and I am no longer able to face challenges as I used to be able to. Although I am not sure if this is because of my burnout or simply a sign of me getting older. I adopted a range of strategies to get through this tough time. I decided against prescribed medication as I suspected it would only dull my brain and not help my recovery. Instead, I took up reading ‘prescribed’ books, a new scheme the NHS prescribed. A local library stocked books about stress, mental health and burnout as a means of self-help. I read them all, and they certainly helped me to understand my situation a lot better. The intense pressure on my professional life had transformed into a feeling of personal failure that brought about my burnout. I walked a lot and enrolled at our local fitness centre and found that working out on the rowing machine and kicking the boxing punchbag helped me to beat stress. I also joined a workshop with a colour stylist to find out which colours best suited my skin type to increase my self-confidence. Afterwards, I proudly glided around town with my new hot-coloured lipstick and colourful clothes. What was not so easy to achieve was finding a new identity for myself. Throughout my professional life, work had always been important to me. It was almost like: Do I work to live, or do I live to work? Now that the work had gone, what was left for me? I was 57 years old and far too young to retire. I had some ideas about what I could do, but the thought of working again in a hierarchical structure where bosses told me what to do would drive me crazy. I wanted to be free and independent. I decided to start my own consultancy business. Over time I slowly developed a business strategy and built my website, both as a means of my development and recovery. I hired a friend as a coach and discovered where my strengths lay and that my purpose in life was to help others and support them in their personal and professional development – exactly what I had been doing for the past decades. It was reassuring and encouraging to know that I was on the right path and that I could build on the knowledge, skills and experience of my previous professional life. Challenges kickstarting my new career However, in the past, I had always worked within a team and had the backing of an institution to fall back on. Now I was on my own and independent. Without the backing of an institution which had a system of quality control, the value of my work was not known. So, who would hire me? This was possibly the reason why the expensive adverts that I launched had not produced the results I wished for. I soon realised that to be successful, I needed to work together with other people who know me and my work. This would allow me to find work and develop further. Trust in former colleagues With this in mind, I started to go through my contact list of former colleagues and invited a selected few for lunch to talk my business ideas through with them. Picking their brains helped me to get ideas of what was possible and what was not. Some colleagues introduced me to other people who also had ideas, which also helped. Making contact with my former colleagues was a good strategy. Their advice helped set up and develop my own business concepts. They encouraged me to follow through with my ideas, which also helped me to regain my self-confidence and my new identity. Through my conversations with my former colleagues, I also learned a great deal beyond setting up my business. When I talked about the experience of my burnout and work-related stress, their reaction was sympathetic throughout. Indeed, many admitted that either they or a partner or close friend had suffered similar issues. I found that talking about my burnout, which is still surrounded by stigma and shame, brought us closer together and brought our relationship to a different level. (LL)

-Encounter on the journey from Popayan to Pasto, Colombia, March 2015-. My husband David and I had to get up early to catch the 6 am bus to Pasto. We could easily imagine what awaited us. Since the bus had left Bogota eight hours ago, it would be packed, and the air inside would be bad from the odours from the passengers who had been asleep for eight hours. We fervently hoped to get decent seats for the six-hour journey to Pasto. Everything else was secondary. Luckily, a few people got off in Popayan, and we hurriedly squeezed into the nearest available seats. The fact that we wouldn’t be sitting next to each other didn’t matter. On the contrary, that’s how you always meet new people. But at this time of day, most passengers were asleep, wrapped in their blankets. So was my seat neighbour. I tried to get a first impression of him by looking at his clothes. when I guessed that he was an old indigenous farm labourer. But unfortunately, I couldn’t see much of him because he wore an old poncho that also covered his face. He also wore a typical hat of the kind I had often seen on the indigenous men of southern Colombia. In my neighbour’s case, this hat had an important function. It fixed the poncho so that it could not slip off. So, for now, I couldn’t expect a conversation with the indigenous farm worker, so I turned my attention to the landscape. The Andes are spectacular. High mountains, deep abysses and narrow serpentines. I could never get enough of it. After a while, my neighbour woke up and was stretching. He was emotionless that suddenly a gringa, a blond foreigner, was sitting next to him. Obviously, this meant he would spend the next few hours silently contemplating the landscape. What else could you do with such a gringa next to you?! I was used to such indifference. I had experienced all too often that locals automatically assumed that a blonde gringa didn’t speak Spanish and was just an ignorant tourist disinterested in the lives of the locals anyway. I took a closer look at his profile and realised that he was not old, but at most in his early 60s. In other words, just like me. This time I was irritated that a Colombian of my generation was so disinterested. I was tempted to correct his view of the world a little. Friendly and in my best Spanish, I commented on the beautiful landscape and fog covering the valley. And lo and behold, it worked. Surprised, he looked up, and we started talking. Soon it was my turn to admit my error. It turned out that this supposed indigenous old farm worker was a very active, committed and innovative contemporary from whom I could experience and learn a lot. He was one of the leaders of an indigenous community in the Putumayo region, near the Ecuadorian and Peruvian border. And so, I learned firsthand about many significant problems in this region. Putumayo is a province where coca is grown. More than 50 per cent of Colombia’s total production is grown in Putumayo. Therefore, this area has become the strategic centre of the government’s anti-drug plan in cooperation with the USA. This so-called “Plan Colombia” provides for the indiscriminate aerial spraying of herbicides to eradicate coca plantations. However, during this anti-drug war with herbicides, no attention is paid to sparing fruit, vegetables, bushes, and trees or not contaminating the rivers’ water, making drinking water and fish unconsumable. These actions not only drive coca producers to ruin but, above all, innocent inhabitants of the region into abject poverty. As a result, many now see flight as their only chance of survival. At the same time, different armed groups, from the Colombian military and paramilitaries to the guerrilla groups FARC and ELN, compete for control of the area. My seatmate reported that the indigenous communities were caught in the middle of the witch’s cauldron of violence, human rights abuses, economic ruin, environmental destruction, and recruitment by both guerrillas and paramilitaries. The longer we talked about his work in an indigenous community in this highly problematic and contested region, the more impressed I was with his personality. As it turned out, he had first studied psychology, then ethnology, but later also completed a business degree to acquire the necessary know-how to serve his community in a dignified and competent manner. He was also a member of a special working group of indigenous community leaders who developed strategies and projects for economic improvement and ethnic identity with the Colombian government as part of an indigenous development programme. He was on his way back from Bogota, where he had successfully secured the continuation of the development programme for his community for another three years. I was particularly fascinated by the view of the ethnic identity formation of the indigenous communities. An external reason for these communities’ awareness of their indigenous identity is to prevent recruiting of young men and the poor by paramilitaries and guerrillas. The offers are tempting – money and power. Who could resist? My interlocutor explained that the working group of indigenous community leaders considers the emphasis on shared values and commonality among indigenous tribes as a certain protection against the temptations of violent groups. Interestingly, commonality was also an essential strategy in his community when punishing someone who had broken the law. Their concept is not to isolate the offender by putting him in prison. Isolation is exclusion from the community and is therefore considered the worst punishment, which would only lead to hatred, envy and hostility, which is counterproductive, I was told. Instead of excluding the lawbreaker and isolating him in prison, the community should intensively care for the offender, find out the causes of his criminal act or antisocial behaviour and help him to become a fully respected member of the community. I was very impressed by this approach. After all, I had just finished a research paper on health care in prison in England and discovered many shortcomings in this custodial system, which is geared towards isolation and punishment rather than social rehabilitation. We could definitely learn a lot from such and similar approaches. I was electrified and saw in my imagination many opportunities for cooperation. This new justice project was only in its early stages, but the other programmes’ economic and health improvements were already promising results. My bus neighbour probably felt the same way I did. Then, unexpectedly, two like-minded people met who could support each other in their work. He invited me and my husband to visit his district (another 6-hour bus ride south) and see the programmes and their successes on site. We could also discuss how and whether we could cooperate on research projects. Fantastic prospects opened up! I was about to jump into a new big exciting project! But I didn’t jump, and I regret that to this day. Still in Colombia, we didn’t have time, or so we thought, to drive another six hours south to get to know the projects. After all, we were almost on our way home again. At home in England, the manifold, more or less significant demands of everyday life displaced my vision of cooperation with the indigenous working group in Colombia. I can’t shake off the feeling that I missed an opportunity for a meaningful and entirely new task. (LL) #bustravelinColumbia #Colombia #Missedopportunities

-Ride on the 168 Bus through London, August 2005-. (UK) I was on the 168 bus in London that morning and was pleased to have managed to get my favourite seat at the front of the double-decker bus. On the way to the shops, I used to enjoy watching London’s houses go by and pondering my thoughts. Sitting so relaxed and lost in thought on public transport, and even going shopping in the city centre, was no longer a matter of course in London since 7 July 2005. On that day, exactly four weeks ago, a series of four coordinated suicide attacks were carried out by Islamist terrorists in London. The attacks, triggered by mobile phones, had targeted commuters travelling by public transport during the morning rush hour. Three underground trains and a double-decker bus had been targeted in the terrorist attack, which killed 70 people besides the terrorists and injured more than 700. After this attack, the thoughtless use of public transport was suddenly no longer possible. We Londoners reluctantly but stoically resumed our routines and travelled to work by bus and train. But now we considered carefully which carriage to board. It should not be too crowded so one could better keep an eye on the passengers. The risk potential had to be assessed. Bearded men with backpacks certainly put you on alert. But not every beard was equally suspicious. Moustaches, three-day stubble beards, goatees or trimmed beards were nowhere near as alarming as the primal and curly full beards worn by many devout Muslims. Nevertheless, one could hardly escape this hysteria and eyed the people on public transport suspiciously before boarding the bus or train. But what was the point if you had carefully considered the risk potential of the carriage or bus when boarding, and then at the next station, a bearded backpack carrier got on and took a seat next to you? Not aware of the shockwaves and panic attacks he would trigger. And that’s precisely what happened to me in my favourite seat on the 168 bus. So I was driving through Camden, lost in thought, when someone sat down next to me, someone from the at-risk group: dark full beard, dark complexion and large backpack. I was immediately tense to the core. Should I move away? How could I slip away inconspicuously? Nervously, I planned my rescue. But it seemed too late because my neighbour took his mobile phone out of his pocket and fiddled with it. So that was it! In a moment, he would press the trigger, and the bomb in the backpack would explode! I could only close my eyes, say goodbye to my life and my loved ones and wait for the bang, which would be the last thing I heard. But instead of the bang, I heard the dark voice of my seat neighbour blaring quickly, harshly and angrily into the phone. Because I couldn’t let go of my terror hysteria so quickly, even this unfriendly phone call made me panic. After all, an acutely angry terrorist is even more dangerous than a more relaxed suicide bomber!? But wait a minute! I know and understand this language! It’s Spanish! Of course, I listened to the conversation, understood, relaxed and felt ashamed at the same time. On the other end of the line was the wife of my terror suspect. She had forgotten some ingredients for the dinner invitation that evening and wanted her husband to come home early from work and get the ingredients on the way. For his part, the husband found this an imposition, for whatever reason, and resisted this request tooth and nail. Actually, this incident was hilarious. But what had become of me? I had suspected so many innocent people in the last few weeks because they were bearded, dark-skinned and wore backpacks. With the fear, crude prejudices had crept into my mind. A frightening realisation! (LL.)

-From Medellin to Cali, Colombia, January 1988-. I was on the bus from Medellin to Cali, looking forward to seeing my friends again. As I had managed to get a window seat, I could be sure to enjoy the spectacular view of the mountains and valleys and the coffee-growing areas of Colombia during the journey without being disturbed. The trip was to take 14 hours. The bus was packed, and it was noon and very hot. I was due to arrive in Cali at 2 am, and my friends would be waiting for me at the bus station. I was full of anticipation. Shortly after our departure, before we left the city behind, a young man got on and sat in the last free seat behind me. His red face could have been from the midday heat if it hadn’t been for the waft of liquor coming toward me. Now, that was a less uplifting prospect for the next 14 hours. I fervently hoped he would fall into hours of deep sleep and sleep it off. But that was not the case. After half an hour of driving through a beautiful but winding landscape, he felt sick. Since he had a window seat, he wanted to throw up out the window. Unfortunately, he realised too late that the window was closed. He banged his head against the glass, and his stomach contents spilt onto the floor. I was just able to snatch my backpack off the floor and bring it to safety on my lap. Within a few minutes, an infernal stench of vomit spread throughout the bus, and several passengers began to vomit. The conductor rushed over and handed out plastic bags, but they didn’t last long. My pregnant seatmate also started to gag, and I had to do something. Luckily, I always have a bottle of China oil for emergencies. So I dripped some on paper handkerchiefs and passed them to my nearest neighbours. I hoped the smell of peppermint in their noses could keep the gag reflex at bay. When we stopped in a small village, I asked the conductor to wash away the worst of the vomit with a bucket of water. He nodded in agreement, went into the small grocery shop and returned with a pound of coffee. And the journey continued without any further action. Coffee? I shot angry glances at the selfish conductor! Couldn’t he understand what a miserable situation we passengers were in?! And he was only thinking of his next cup of coffee after the journey. What an inhuman being! While I was still swearing at the conductor in my mind, he opened the coffee packet and scattered all the ground coffee along the bus aisle. Immediately, the pleasant smell of coffee hit our nostrils and displaced the stench of vomit. We were saved, and I was ashamed! As quietly as I had cursed the conductor in my mind before, I made amends to him now. He had the experience of dealing with such mishaps on his side, and before I got all know-it-all, I should learn to wait and develop more trust in the problem-solving skills of the locals. The culprit had long since fallen asleep and was sleeping it off. He had not noticed any of this. (LL) #busstories #travelexperiences #travellingbybus #travellinginColombia

Sorry - no translation in English! (DE) In diesem Teil meiner Pandemie-Erfahrungen möchte ich mehr oder weniger tagesaktuell ab dem 18. November 2021 von den Ereignissen und Vorgängen berichten, die mich bewegen. Und ich möchte meine persönliche Sicht darauf als Zeitgenossin dokumentieren. 18. November 2021: An diesem 18. November 2021 hat Deutschland gerade keine Regierung. Die zukünftige Regierungskoalition (Ampelkoalition genannt wegen Rot-Gelb-Grün), bestehend aus SPD (rot), Grünen und FDP (gelb), ist noch dabei einen Koalitionsvertrag auszuhandeln. Die Bundeskanzlerin Angela Merkel (CDU) und ihr Kabinett aus Vertretern der CDU, CSU und SPD, darunter auch Gesundheitsminister Jens Spahn (CDU), sind nur noch geschäftsführend tätig. Das Pandemiegeschehen eskaliert seit Wochen, ohne dass Maßnahmen ergriffen worden wären, obwohl Virologen und Mediziner seit Monaten das prophezeiten, was gerade zu beobachten ist. Die Infektionszahlen in Deutschland steigen in nie gekannte schwindelnde Höhen. Das Robert-Koch-Institut (RKI) meldet 65 371 neu positiv getestete Personen binnen 24 Stunden. Die Sieben-Tage-Inzidenz beträgt nun 336,9. Es gibt weitere 264 Tote im Zusammenhang mit dem Virus. Die Zahl der Todesfälle erhöht sich damit auf 98 538. Es gibt noch eine Maßeinheit, die das Geschehen in der Pandemie widerspiegelt und Anlass für Maßnahmen sein sollte: Die Hospitalisierung! Das RKI meldete am 17. November als Indikator die Zahl 5,15 (Zahl der in Kliniken aufgenommenen Corona-Patienten je 100 000 Einwohner innerhalb von sieben Tagen). Die Hospitalisierungs-Inzidenz ist wegen der regionalen Unterschiede in Deutschland nur regional von Bedeutung. Der Höchstwert um Weihnachten 2020 betrug 15,5. Aktuell liegt er im Bundesland Thüringen bei 18,6. (Quelle: RKI, SZ) Es findet heute ein Corona-Gipfel von Bund und Ländern statt, wie wir das aus der Zeit von Herbst 2020 bis Frühsommer 2021 zur Genüge kennen. Die Ministerpräsidenten der Bundesländer handeln gemeinsam mit der Bundeskanzlerin mehr oder weniger einheitliche Regelungen zur Eindämmung der Pandemie aus. Die Einheitlichkeit ging in der Vergangenheit zumeist flöten, da jeder MP (Ministerpräsident) sich für seine Partei stark machen wollte. Es war Wahlkampfzeit! Einige der MPs fordern bundesweit 2-G, was heißt, dass nur Geimpfte oder Genesene Zugang zu Restaurants, bestimmten Geschäften und Veranstaltungen haben würden. In Bahnen und Bussen solle 3-G (Geimpft-Genesen-Getestet) gelten. Keiner weiß, wer das wie und wo kontrollieren könnte. Warten wir mal ab, was beschlossen wird. Aber nicht nur die MPs wollen heute den Kampf gegen die Pandemie aufnehmen. Auch die Ampel-Koalition in spe stellt heute dem Bundestag ein modifiziertes Infektionsschutzgesetz vor, das die am 25. November 2021 auslaufende „epidemische Notlage nationaler Tragweite“ ablösen soll. Man wolle, so die Koalitionäre, die Gesetzgebung von der Exekutive (Regierung) wieder in die Hände der Legislative (Parlament) legen. Interessant ist, dass die Unionsparteien (CDU/CSU), die gerade ihr Image als Opposition aufbauen, angekündigt haben, dieses Gesetz vermutlich im Bundesrat (Gremium der Bundesländer) zu blockieren. Es gehe ihnen nicht weit genug, sei also nicht angemessen für die Lage in Deutschland. Der bayerische MP Markus Söder und der NRW-MP Hendrik Wüst profilieren sich gerade als CDU/CSU-Hardliner. Mal sehen, was geschieht. Ich möchte nur noch anmerken, dass Grüne und FDP die Maßnahmen der Großen Koalition in der Krise mitgetragen haben, auch wenn sie nicht hundertprozentig übereinstimmten. Ich frage mich, ob die Unionsparteien in erster Linie ihr Profil schärfen wollen oder das Wohl des Landes im Auge haben. Man wird es an ihrem Verhalten in den Tagen und Wochen dieser neuen alten Krise ablesen können. Unser Leben, also das der Bürgerinnen und Bürger, wird aber sowieso gerade wieder eingeschränkt, denn die Kommunen denken pragmatisch. Weihnachtsmärkte, die teilweise schon aufgebaut worden sind, werden abgesagt. Die Impfzentren werden wieder hochgefahren, denn Boosterimpfungen wurden von der Stiko (Ständige Impfkommission) ab dem 5. Monat nach der vollständigen Impfung empfohlen. Aber die Menschen stehen schon längst Schlange, Empfehlung hin oder her. Selbstverständlich weiß derzeit niemand, wie das alles organisiert werden soll, aber wenigstens haben wir genügend Impfstoff. Angeblich! In der Öffentlichkeit wird die Impfpflicht mindestens für Pflegekräfte und die Lehrerschaft diskutiert. Viele plädieren für eine allgemeine Impfpflicht, denn es zeigt sich, dass in den Regionen mit den Inzidenzen über 1000 meist nur gut 50 Prozent der Bevölkerung geimpft sind. 90 Prozent der Corona-Kranken auf den Intensivstationen seien ungeimpft, kann man überall lesen und hören. Es wird von einer Pandemie der Ungeimpften gesprochen. Die Wut der Geimpften auf die Ungeimpften ist groß. Manchmal habe ich das Bild von regelrechten Kämpfen zwischen Geimpften und Impfgegnern vor Augen. Ich hoffe mal, dass das übertrieben ist. Morgen kann ich hoffentlich über die Beschlüsse der mächtigsten Gremien Deutschlands berichten. Was sagen der Bundestag und die Ministerpräsidenten mit der Noch-Kanzlerin?! 19. November 2021: Der Präsident des Robert-Koch-Instituts rechnet in einem Interview den Deutschen vor, wie die Lage derzeit konkret aussieht: Von den gut 50 000 aktuellen Neuinfektionen würden 3000 in Krankenhäusern landen und 400 sterben. Dies werde sich täglich wiederholen, bis zu dem Zeitpunkt, da das Infektionsgeschehen eben abflaut. Er bemüht ein drastisches Bild, um zu verdeutlichen, dass daran nichts mehr zu ändern sei. Das Wasser des Eimers sei ausgeschüttet und könne nicht mehr zurückgefüllt werden. Lediglich die mittelfristige Zukunft liege noch in der Hand der Menschen und selbstverständlich auch in der Hand der Politiker. Bitter beklagt er, dass alle Warnungen, die bereits im Juli vom RKI und von anderen Wissenschaftlern ausgesprochen worden waren, von der Politik in den Wind geschlagen wurden. Warum auch immer!? Politik und Gesellschaft wurden auf der Basis von Impfquote (65 %) und Öffnungen Szenarien vorgestellt, die recht exakt die reale Entwicklung des Infektionsgeschehens wie auch der Belastung der Intensivstationen vorhersagten. Grafiken, im Sommer erstellt, weichen nur minimal von den aktuellen Grafiken ab. (Quelle: SZ) Ich muss sagen, dass ich als ganz normale Zeitungsleserin und Konsumentin von Fernseh-Reportagen und Nachrichten von diesen Prognosen gehört und gelesen habe. Dass ich mich wirklich die ganze Zeit fragte, wieso keine Konferenzen, keine Vorschläge für Maßnahmen und dergleichen mehr stattfanden. Und wie viele Wissenschaftler und Journalisten werfe ich den verantwortlichen Politikern vor, dass sie Chancen vertan haben. Schon wieder! Das ist unverzeihlich! Ich frage mich, worin die gewählten Volksvertreter eigentlich ihre Hauptaufgabe sehen! In der Imagepflege für sich und ihre Partei? In der Ausrichtung auf Zustimmungswerte in ihrem Handeln? Jetzt, da es für viele Menschen zu spät ist, wird über Maßnahmen beraten und Beschlüsse gefasst, deren Umsetzung sich teilweise hinziehen kann und somit noch mehr Zeit verloren geht. Aber was haben nun gestern der Bundestag und die Teilnehmer der Ministerpräsidentenkonferenz beschlossen? Der Maßnahmenkatalog der Corona-Konferenz von Bund und Ländern sieht vor, dass sich die Länder flächendeckend an der Hospitalisierungsinzidenz orientieren sollen: Inzidenz von 3 führt zu 2-G-Regel; Inzidenze von 6 führt zu 2-G+ (Auch Geimpfte und Getestete müssen sich in sensiblen Bereichen vorher testen lassen.) Inzidenz von 9 führt zu weiter gehenden Maßnahmen wie z. B. Kontaktbeschränkungen. Wir in Bayern haben bereits eine Krankenhaus-Inzidenz von 9,15 erreicht und haben also erheblich mehr Einschränkungen zu erwarten. Der Maßnahmenkatalog sieht am heutigen Freitag folgendermaßen aus: Kontaktbeschränkungen für Ungeimpfte; 2-G auch für körpernahe Dienstleistungen wie Frisöre; keine 2-G-Beschränkung für den Handel, aber Begrenzung der Personenzahl; 2-G+ für alle Kultur- und Sportveranstaltungen; Zuschauerbegrenzung auf 25 Prozent; Sperrstunde ab 22 Uhr sowie Schließung von Diskotheken, Bars und Verbot aller Weihnachtsmärkte. In den oberbayerischen Hotspots mit einer 7-Tage-Inzidenz von 1000 werden zudem Gaststätten, Sport- und Kulturstätten komplett geschlossen und Veranstaltungen generell untersagt. Die Maskenpflicht existiert immer und überall, außer natürlich in privaten Räumen. Aber zurück zu den Beschlüssen der Ministerpräsidenten: Auch auf eine Impfpflicht für Mitarbeiter in Pflegeeinrichtungen soll erwirkt werden. Das aber, muss der Bundestag beschließen, liegt also nicht in der Hand der Ministerpräsidenten. Auch die Auszahlung eines Bonus bedarf noch der Absprache mit dem Bund. In Alten- und Pflegeheimen sind tägliche Tests vorgesehen, unabhängig vom Impfstatus. Der Bund verspricht bis Mai 2022 die Impfzentren finanziell zu unterstützen, denn zusätzlich zu den Auffrischungsimpfungen hoffe man, auch die Erstimpfungen für Kinder ausweiten zu können. Im öffentlichen Nahverkehr soll die 3-G-Regel gelten, deren Einhaltung verstärkt kontrolliert werden soll. Wie ich heute in den Medien lese, steigt die Zahl der Erstimpfungen in diesen Tagen stark an. Und das macht mich, ehrlich gesagt, nun wirklich sehr wütend. Es war offensichtlich bei vielen Leuten nicht einmal Überzeugung, wieso sie sich nicht impfen ließen, sondern einfach Bequemlichkeit und Gleichgültigkeit oder auch Unfähigkeit. Ich habe mit einer Freundin immer wieder eine hitzige Diskussion darüber, ob der Staat gegenüber diesen Menschen eben versagt habe. Sie meint, wenn jeder eine SMS bekommen hätte, ähnlich wie in Spanien, mit Impftermin und -Ort, wäre eine viel höhere Impfquote erreicht worden. Ich hingegen kann nicht glauben, dass man die für eine Demokratie so notwendigen mündigen Bürgerinnen und Bürger derart gängeln und pampern müsste. Und auch im Bundestag und im Bundesrat tat sich was. Die Regierungskoaltion in spe (SPD,Grüne,FDP) brachten ein neues Infektionsschutzgesetz auf den Weg, das in etwa den Beschlüssen der Ministerpräsidenten ähnelt. Auffallend ist jedoch die Regelung der Arbeitswelt. Generell gilt 3-G am Arbeitsplatz für all diejenigen, die Außenkontakte haben. Ungeimpfte müssen jeden Tag einen Test vorlegen und der Arbeitgeber muss das kontrollieren. Bei einer Weigerung kann Homeoffice angeordnet werden oder Freistellung ohne Lohnfortzahlung. Sogar eine Kündigung wäre möglich. Homeoffice sollte, wenn immer möglich, erlaubt werden. Die „epidemische Notlage von nationaler Tragweite“ wird nach dem 25. November nicht mehr fortgeschrieben. Das bedeutet, dass die Länder nicht mehr so weitreichende Maßnahmen wie etwa Ausgangssperren und eine generelle Schließung von Restaurants und Schulen beschließen können. Dies sei aufgrund der 67 Prozent geimpfter Bürgerinnen und Bürger rechtlich nicht haltbar, so die Ampel-Koalition im Bundestag. Bundestag und Bundesrat haben, nach anfänglichen Profilierungs-Diskussionen mit CDU/CSU, diesem Gesetz zugestimmt. Ich bezweifle stark, dass diese Maßnahmen als Bremse für das Corona-Gefährt, das mit 300 km/h oder sogar mehr fährt, dienen kann. Vor zwei Monaten, wäre das vielleicht noch gelungen. Und eine andere Sache macht mich noch misstrauisch. Die Ministerpräsidenten wollen in ein paar Wochen bei einem weiteren Treffen überprüfen, ob die Maßnahmen Wirkung gezeigt hätten. Ja das hatten wir doch alles schon! Herbst und Winter 2020! Und da waren die Infektionszahlen geringer als heute! Haben die denn alle kein Erinnerungsvermögen?! Es gibt Begriffe und Szenen für das, was ich dabei empfinde: Déj`a-vu oder „The same procedure as every year…“ Österreich hat einen kompletten Lockdown beschlossen und will die generelle Impfpflicht einführen. Ist das die bessere Option? Irgendwie bin ich neidisch. 20. November 2021 Lothar Wieler, der Chef des RKI, warnt vor einer fünften Welle, noch bevor diese vierte Welle ihren Zenit überschritten hat. Die nicht so stark betroffenen Bundesländer im Norden und Westen könnten durch Kontaktbeschränkungen vorbeugend tätig sein, empfiehlt er dringend. Generell sollten keine Feiern und Veranstaltungen mit vielen Personen in Innenräumen stattfinden. Diese Maßnahmen würden sich dann langsam auf das aktuelle Infektionsgeschehen auswirken. Wirklich sinnvoll aber sei eine Impfquote von 85 Prozent, bei über 60-Jährigen sogar von 90 Prozent. Ich habe heute wieder Leserkommentare in der SZ gelesen und mich auch an der Diskussion beteiligt. Mir scheint, als ob viele Leute, von den Journalisten und Moderatoren in den Medien bis hin zu Leuten in meinem persönlichen Umfeld, stinksauer sind. Man hat den Eindruck, dass die Szene der Impfgegner und Querdenker das Geschehen beherrscht, obwohl es sich ja nur um eine Minderheit handelt. Die Mehrheit scheint aber irgendwie keine Stimme zu haben. Es gibt Querdenker-Demos, aber keine Impfbefürworter- oder Anti-Impfgegner-Demos. Wirklich erfreulich ist, dass die Menschen diesmal schneller als die Politik waren und sich schon für Booster-Impfungen eingetragen, angemeldet oder angestellt haben, als von Seiten der Politiker noch keine klare Ansage gekommen war. Der Wille der Menschen suchte sich wie Wasser seinen Weg zu irgendwelchen Impfstationen. Und das ist derzeit nicht einfach, da Impfzentren geschlossen worden waren, Hausärzte natürlich nur begrenzte Kapazitäten haben und man daher echt hartnäckig suchen muss. Aber die Menschen scheinen lernfähig zu sein, zumindest der impfwillige Teil. Gut so! Tut, was euch euere Vernunft sagt! Informiert euch bei den Medizinern, die in den Medien auftreten und die die Zusammenhänge meist wunderbar verständlich erklären! Fast möchte ich auch sagen: Geht auch auf die Straße und fordert Entschuldigungen und Rücktritte der Politiker, die das rechtzeitige Eingreifen versäumt haben! Sie hätten es besser und vor allem vorher wissen können! Warum setzt sich eigentlich niemand an die Spitze der Impfbewegung bzw. gestaltet so eine Bewegung? 21. November 2021 Seit heute morgen 09:15 Uhr bin ich geboostert, habe also meine Auffrischungsimpfung erhalten. Es ist eine große Erleichterung, denn meine zweite Impfung liegt fünf Monate zurück und die Mediziner wie auch die BionTech-Erfinder räumen ein, dass der Impfschutz besonders bei älteren Menschen stark nachlässt (von 90 auf 40 oder sogar 20 Prozent sinken kann). In Bayern, wo ich lebe, beträgt die 7-Tage-Inzidenz heute 639 und die Intensivstationen haben keine Kapazitäten mehr. Da will man nicht krank werden. Also nutzte ich das Angebot von Stadt und Landkreis Hof, mich bei einer Impfstation anzustellen und ohne Termin geboostert zu werden. Um 8 Uhr sollte die Impfstation öffnen und ich kam mir schlau vor, indem ich um 07:30 Uhr schon vor der Tür stehen wollte. Ich erwartete, dann keine Wartezeit zu haben und auf jeden Fall meine Impfung zu bekommen, bevor der Impfstoff ausginge. Dies zeigt die halbe Warteschlange noch vor der Öffnung der Impfstation in Hof. So schlau waren viele. Als ich ankam, wartete bereits eine Schlange quer über den riesigen Parkplatz der Freiheitshalle, über eine kleine Straße hinauf zur großen Zufahrtsstraße und diese auch noch etliche Meter entlang. Nach einer Stunde und zwanzig Minuten Wartezeit und einigen Gesprächen mit den anderen Wartenden erhielt ich den Piks. Aus den Gesprächen der Umstehenden war deutlich zu hören, dass man die zögerliche Politik unverzeihlich finde, dass aufgrund des Wahlkampfes und der darauf folgenden Regierungslosigkeit verantwortungslose Tatenlosigkeit geherrscht habe und außerdem die Impfgegner oder auch Gleichgültigen uns allen dieses Fiasko eingebrockt hätten. Die Geimpften blickten nicht sehr freundlich zum Eingang zur Erstimpfung. Es gab nämlich einen extra Eingang für die Erstimpfungen. An diesem Eingang bildete sich keine Schlange. Nur vereinzelt tröpfelten etwas verschämt ein paar Leutchen hinein. Ich denke, dass nun die Medien, die durchaus sehr kritisch über Imfpstoffe und Nebenwirkungen und Gefahren berichtet hatten, auch entsprechend über die Meinungsäußerung der Mehrheit berichten sollten. Die Menschen strömen in Massen zu den Auffrischungsimpfungen und demonstrieren damit indirekt für den Schutz durch Impfung. Könnte man ja auch so sehen. Da Politiker immer auf Zustimmung schielen, könnte das Druck machen. 26. November 2021 Vor zwei Tagen stellte die Ampel-Koalition ihren Koalitionsvertrag vor und informierte über das Maßnahmenpaket im Zuge der Corona-Bekämpfung. Am 25. November war ja die „epidemische Notlage von nationaler Tragweite“ ausgelaufen, da sich die neue Regierungskoalition (Ampel) nicht dazu durchringen mochte, sie zu verlängern. Um zu verstehen, was das bedeutet, möchte ich an dieser Stelle ein Beispiel erzählen, das ich heute im Leserforum der SZ gelesen habe. Den Pflegekräften eines Pflegeheimes war in einer umfangreichen E-Mail dargelegt worden, dass nun Pflegekräfte und Besucher, unabhängig von ihrem Impfstatus, einen Test vorweisen müssten. Dies werde von einer Security-Firma auch kontrolliert, da man keine Pflegekräfte dafür abstellen könne. Dieses Pflegeheim musste aber feststellen, dass der Security-Markt leergefegt ist. Eine andere Idee: Kräfte der Bundeswehr könnten aushelfen? Aber die Bundeswehr untersteht dem Bund und steht daher für Angelegenheiten in den Kommunen und dem Land nicht mehr so unbürokratisch zur Verfügung, wie das durch die epidemische Notlage von nationaler Tragweite möglich gewesen wäre. Der Teufel steckt wie so oft im Detail. Andererseits fliegt nun erstmals die Bundeswehr Intensivpatienten von Hotspot-Bundesländer in noch weniger belastete Länder. Die 7-Tage-Inzidenz pro 100 000 Einwohner beträgt in ganz Deutschland ja momentan 438,2, in Bayern 652 und Sachsen ist Spitzenreiter mit über 1074. Die Zahl der Corona-Toten in Deutschland hat die 100 000er Grenze überschritten und es müssen ca. 100 Intensivpatienten kreuz und quer in Deutschland verteilt werden, weil in einzelnen Regionen die Intensivbetten nicht mehr ausreichen. Also alles in allem eine verheerende Lage zu Beginn des Winters, der ja bekanntlich noch mindestens 3 Monate dauert und eigentlich kann man in unseren Breiten damit rechnen, dass der Aufenthalt in Innenräumen in den nächsten fünf bis sechs Monaten angenehmer sein wird als draußen. Die Ampel-Koalition hat gute Ideen, die langfristig für ein planvolleres Umgehen mit der Pandemie oder mit zukünftigen Pandemien sorgen werden. Es soll im Bundeskanzleramt einen ständigen Bund-Länder-Krisenstab geben. Außerdem will die zukünftige Regierung ein Expertengremium einrichten, in dem Experten diverser Disziplinen (Mediziner, Virologen, Sozialwissenschaftler usw.) zusammenarbeiten, um die Regierung „ganzheitlich“ beraten zu können. Das macht Sinn. Wenn das Gesundheitsministerium beispielsweise nicht mehr die medizinischen, sozialen, wirtschaftlichen, gesellschaftlichen, psychologischen Aspekte selbst zusammenfügen muss, sondern die Abwägung bereits unter Fachleuten stattgefunden hat, dann wäre das ein großer Erkenntnisgewinn und könnte für schnelleres und durchdachteres Handeln sorgen. Aber wie soll man die Probleme lösen, die jetzt existieren und täglich größer werden? Selbst das Impfen wirkt erst mittelfristig. Experten und allen voran die Oppositionsparteien CDU/CSU scheinen, befreit von der Regierungsverantwortung im Bund, richtig radikal geworden zu sein. Impfpflicht für alle ab 01. Januar 2022 fordert Markus Söder (MP Bayern) und viel strengere Maßnahmen (Kontaktbeschränkungen, Lockdown…). Man habe keine 10 Minuten mehr Zeit, um etwas zu unternehmen, teilte er heute mit. Komisch! Während des ganzen Sommers und auch zu Beginn des Herbstes hatte er durchaus jede Menge Zeit. Menschen mit ausgeprägter Profilorientierung agieren so, Menschen mit Aufgabenorientierung hätten bereits im Sommer auf die Experten gehört und Maßnahmen getroffen. Am Horizont, genauer gesagt in Südafrika, ist in den letzten Tagen eine neue Virus-Variante aufgetaucht, Omikron-Variante genannt, die so viele Mutationen entwickelt, dass die Impfstoffe gestresst sind und nicht mehr so gut abwehren können. Also das ist jetzt die Kurzfassung dessen, was bisher an Informationen in den Medien zu finden war. Es ist, glaube ich, gerade kein guter Zeitpunkt Entscheidungen zu vertagen, wie das momentan in Deutschland gemacht wird. Wieso ist dieses Land so träge?! Ich bin müde. Ich bin verunsichert, weil ich nie weiß, was kurz-, mittel- und langfristig möglich oder eben nicht möglich sein wird. Ich bin deprimiert, weil ich kein Licht am Ende des Tunnels sehe. Immer wenn man meint, jetzt könnte es besser werden, schlägt wieder eine Welle über einem zusammen. 30. November 2021 Das Bundesverfassungsgericht hat heute entschieden, dass die Bundesnotbremse, wie sie vom 21. April bis Juni 2021 praktiziert worden war, verfassungskonform ist. Diese Bundesnotbremse besagte, dass in Regionen ab einer bestimmten Inzidenz automatisch einen Lockdown mit Ausgangssperre, Kontaktbeschränkungen und Schulschließungen nach sich ziehen würde. Medienvertreter, Oppositionspolitiker sowie Virologen und Ärzte fordern bereits seit Wochen einen Lockdown, um die vierte Welle zu stoppen. Die Bundeswehr fliegt täglich Corona-Intensivpatienten aus den Hochrisikogebieten Bayern und Sachsen in andere Bundesländer, weil die bayerischen und sächsischen Krankenhäuser keine Plätze mehr frei haben. Der designierte Kanzler Olaf Scholz (SPD) spricht sich heute nach einer Besprechung mit den Länderchefs für eine allgemeine Impfpflicht zum 01. Februar 2022 aus. Ja super, momentan bemühen sich viele tausend Menschen um eine Auffrischungsimpfung oder um die Erstimpfung. Erfolglos! Es gibt keine Termine bis in den Januar 2022 hinein. An den mobilen Impfstationen, an denen ohne Termin geimpft wird, stehen die Leute stundenlang an, bis der Impfstoff aus ist. Die im Herbst blöderweise geschlossenen Impfzentren könnten rein räumlich durchaus schnell wieder hochgefahren werden, aber das Personal steht nicht mehr zur Verfügung. Pech! Die haben sich andere Arbeitsstellen gesucht. Vom Warten auf die Wiederöffnung kann man ja seine Miete nicht bezahlen. Im Frühling hatte Deutschland Impfgelegenheiten, aber keinen Impfstoff. Dann gab es beides in Hülle und Fülle, aber die Impfwilligen blieben aus. Und nun das! Es wird auch gemunkelt, dass die Tests langsam knapp werden und die Kapazitäten der Labore irgendwann schon auch erschöpft seien. Wer hat eigentlich einen Überblick oder gar einen Plan? Im Leserforum der SZ streiten sich die Kommentatoren über die Notwendigkeit eines Lockdown. Die Fronten sind verhärtet. Geimpfte sehen nicht ein, dass sie bestraft werden sollen, wo sie doch alles richtig gemacht hätten. Die Impfgegner sehen sowieso nichts ein, weil es ja keinen Grund zur Sorge gebe. Die vorsichtigen und rationalen Geimpften finden es wirklich beschämend für die deutschen Politiker, dass es so weit kommen musste, aber nun helfe halt nur noch ein Lockdown. Alle sind wütend auf die Ungeimpften. Eine weitere Nachricht ist in juristischer Hinsicht interessant. Impfgegner, die sich einen gelben „Judenstern“ ans Revers heften, auf dem „ungeimpft“ steht, machen sich nun wegen Verharmlosung des Holocaust bzw. Volksverhetzung strafbar. Das ist natürlich Wasser auf deren Mühlen, auch wenn die Gerichte recht haben mit ihrer Entscheidung. Aus meiner kleinen privaten Vorweihnachtswelt, die ohne Weihnachtsmärkte wirklich nur noch eine lustlose Ich-kauf-halt-ein-Geschenk-für-jeden-bevor-alles-zumacht-Tour ist, beobachte ich die politischen Entscheidungsprozesse und habe nicht einmal mehr Lust darauf, mich aufzuregen. Es macht sich wirklich langsam Hoffnungslosigkeit in mir breit. Wird das jetzt den Rest meines Lebens so weitergehen? Schließungen – Öffnungen – Unsicherheit -Schließungen – Öffnungen…. Immer wieder denke ich daran, dass in Belarus an der Grenze zu Polen und im Ärmelkanal Flüchtlinge sterben. Was in den Lagern der griechischen Inseln derzeit passiert, mag ich mir nicht ausmalen. Zwischen Russland und der Ukraine schaut es nach Säbelrasseln aus, was der NATO durchaus zupass kommt. Südafrika hat die Welt sofort über die neue Corona-Variante in ihrem Land informiert und wird nun zum Dank gemeinsam mit den Nachbarstaaten vom Rest der Welt ohne wenn und aber isoliert. Beim nächsten Mal sagen die nix mehr! Es gibt unendlich viele Krisen und Baustellen auf dieser Welt. Wir sind derzeit auf die Corona-Pandemie fixiert. Werden wir, wenn sie vorbei ist, uns fragen, wieso wir all die anderen Entwicklungen nicht gesehen haben? 01. Dezember 2021 Heute möchte ich einmal über Szenen berichten, die einen Eindruck vermitteln, wie manche Menschen so ticken. Ein Kommentator im Leserforum der SZ berichtete, dass in einem Supermarkt eine Frau den Filialleiter darüber informierte, dass sich im Markt eine Person befinde, die eigentlich in Quarantäne sein müsse. Der Supermarktleiter forderte über Lautsprecher die Person, die Quarantäneauflagen unterliege, auf, sich am Ausgang einzufinden. Nicht eine, sondern vier Personen fanden sich ein und hatten sich angesprochen gefühlt. Man weiß nicht, ob man weinen oder lachen soll. Ebenso geht es mir, wenn ich Interviews sehe, in denen Menschen auf Intensivstationen gefragt werden, warum sie sich denn nicht hätten impfen lassen. Auch auf ihre Erstimpfung wartende Leute in den Schlangen vor den mobilen Impfstationen werden gefragt, warum sie erst jetzt zur Impfung bereit seien. Die Antworten machen mich fassungslos. „Naja, ich bin ja jung und gesund“, „Wenn 2-G gilt, dann bin ich ausgegrenzt und ich will feiern“, „Ich hab mich ausschließlich in den sozialen Medien informiert“, „Ich lese keine Zeitung und schaue oder höre auch keine Nachrichten“ usw. Den Vogel schoss eine alte Dame ab, die um ihre Fruchtbarkeit fürchtete. Aber ihr Realitätsverlust ist halt altersbedingt und nicht dumm. Das alles sind noch keine Querdenker und Verschwörungstheoretiker, sondern Menschen, Bürger, die in diesem Land leben, arbeiten, Verantwortung tragen sollen und wählen gehen. Das muss man sich mal auf der Zunge zergehen lassen! 04. Dezember 2021 In dieser Woche haben die Ministerpräsidenten gemeinsam mit Vertretern der Bundesregierung (Merkel noch, Scholz noch nicht Bundeskanzler/in) getagt, um bundesweite Minimalregeln aufzustellen. Dazu gehört ab kommenden Mittwoche, dass die Ungeimpften nur noch in Geschäfte des täglichen Bedarfs einkaufen dürfen sowie strengen Kontaktbeschränkungen unterliegen. Leider wurden Großveranstaltungen wie Fußballspiele nicht verboten, sondern es wurde nur die Zuschauerzahl begrenzt. Die Länder setzen z. T. auf stärkere Einschränkungen. Die Inzidenzen sind ja auch unterschiedlich. Das Infektionsgeschehen flaut in München und in Bayern gaaanz langsam ab. Ist aber nach wie vor auf hohem Niveau. Auf Bundesebene „flackern“ die Infektionszahlen und die Inzidenz auf hohem Niveau. Im Leserforum der SZ habe ich heute einen fürchterlichen Kommentar gelesen. Jemand fragt nach, ob es stimme, dass 45 Prozent der Covid-Schwerkranken in den Intensivstationen Migrationshintergrund hätten. Wenn dem so sei, könne man doch nicht alle Deutschen mit Einschränkungen quälen. Ich habe natürlich meiner Fassungslosigkeit Ausdruck verliehen, aber was, wenn viele Leute so drauf sind?! Ich versteh die Welt nicht mehr. Nicht dass ich sie je gut verstanden hätte, aber ist diese widerwärtige Art von Fremdenfeindlichkeit salonfähig in Deutschland?! Das wühlt mich momentan mehr auf als die Coronalage. Auch interessant ist ein Bericht in der SZ online. In Sachsens Städten protestieren jeden Montag Querdenker und Konsorten gegen die Einschränkungen. Manchmal seien es ein paar Dutzend, manchmal 200. Dabei verstoßen sie natürlich gegen die Corona-Regeln. Die Polizei lässt diese „Spaziergänge“ der wohl überwiegend Rechten geschehen. Linke haben nun diese Woche eine Gegendemo angemeldet, um zu zeigen, dass das Polizeiaufgebot, wenn Linke beteiligt sind, viel größer ist. Siehe da, es wurden 300 Polizisten herangekarrt. Die Gegendemonstranten kamen zwar nicht, aber sie hatten recht mit ihrer Prognose. (sinngemäß zusammengefasst!) Mich weht ein Lüftchen Weimarer Republik an, wenn ich so etwas lese. 13. Dezember 2021 Demonstranten gegen die Corona-Beschränkungen in Deutschland haben sich am Wochenende in Städten Sachsens, Thüringens und Baden-Württembergs als recht gewaltbereit erwiesen. In Sachsen hatte vor ca. zwei Wochen eine Querdenker-Gruppe einen Fackelauftritt vor dem Privathaus der sächsischen Gesundheitsministerin organisiert. Die Verfassungsschützer beobachten, dass im Netz Aufrufe zu weiteren Fackel-Märschen die Runde machen. Privatadressen von Politikern werden veröffentlicht. Ja es gibt sogar Mordphantasien Politikerinnen und Politiker betreffend in den sozialen Netzwerken wie beispielsweise Telegram. Meiner Meinung nach hat das alles nichts mit der Angst vor den Nebenwirkungen der Corona-Impfung zu tun, sondern hier ergreifen Gruppierungen eine Gelegenheit zum politischen Kampf. Ich fürchte, von Fremdenfeindlichkeit bis hin zum Rassismus, von Demokratiefeindlichkeit bis hin zu faschistoidem Gedankengut ist da alles zu finden. Aber woher kommt die Unterstützung? Wer ist Stratege? Woher kommt das Geld? Wer hat ein Interesse an der Verankerung rechten Gedankenguts in der Bevölkerung? Andererseits wird die Protestbewegung in Baden-Württemberg vermutlich von der ehemals links-esoterischen Szene getragen. Haben die beiden Protestbewegungen in den ost- und westdeutschen Bundesländern wirklich nichts gemeinsam, außer die Impffeindlichkeit und das Misstrauen gegenüber der Regierung? Gleichzeitig sinken die Infektionszahlen langsam, aber kontinuierlich. Dem Personal der Intensivstationen ist damit nicht geholfen. Die Situation bleibt kritisch und alle haben Angst, dass die Triage in den Krankenhäusern notwendig werden würde. Wobei man sagen muss, wenn Tumoroperationen wegen Coronapatienten abgesagt werden, dann findet da jetzt schon eine Auswahl statt, die es nicht geben dürfte. 22. Dezember 2021 Es ist eigentlich eine absurde Situation. Die Infektionszahlen gehen kontinuierlich zurück, aber sowohl die führenden Politiker, allen voran der neue Gesundheitsminister Lauterbach, und die wissenschaftlichen Berater der Regierung, allen voran Lothar Wieler vom RKI (Robert-Koch-Institut), sind panisch. Der Grund? Die Omikron-Variante, die viel ansteckender ist als die bisherigen Corona-Viren und die die Abwehr durch die Impfung teilweise umgehen kann! Man hat in den Abwässern der Gemeinden gemessen und festgestellt, dass die Menschen von München bis Hof wohl schon mit dem mutierten Virus in Berührung gekommen sind. Das heißt, es gibt viele unerkannte Infektionen. Im Vereinigten Königreich und in den USA hat Omikron wohl schon übernommen und das Problem ist, dass bis zu einem Drittel der Bevölkerung entweder krank oder in Quarantäne sind. Die kritische Infrastruktur (Krankenhäuser, Pflegeeinrichtungen, Müllentsorgung, Feuerwehr, Polizei, Fahrer des öffentlichen Nahverkehrs, LKW-Fahrer, Mitarbeiter der Wasserwerke und Energieversorger….) ist nur noch mühsam aufrechtzuerhalten. Nun haben gestern wieder die Ministerpräsidenten der Bundesländer mit der Bundesregierung getagt und sind zu dem Schluss gekommen, dass die weihnachtlichen Familienfeiern keine Superspreader-Ereignisse seien. Und die Ungeimpften dürfen ja sowieso nur zwei Leute aus einem anderen Haushalt treffen. Großveranstaltungen sind eh nicht mehr erlaubt, was die Fußballfans bestimmt frustriert. Ab dem 28. Dezember soll es dann auch Kontaktbeschränkungen (maximal 10 Leute) für Geimpfte geben. Naja, die Wissenschaftler, besonders das RKI, hatten vor der Konferenz noch gefordert, dass sofort Kontaktbeschränkungen einzuführen seien. Heute sind sie wieder im Schulterschluss mit der Regierung. Dass da Druck gemacht wurde, ist keine Frage. Die Erst- und Zweitimpfungen kommen nicht wirklich im Eilschritt voran, aber die Protestveranstaltungen wachsen durchaus. Man wolle bis Ende Januar 30 Millionen Impfungen verabreicht haben. Mit den Auffrischungsimpfungen klappt das bestimmt, aber sonst? Ich bin frustriert, ja sogar deprimiert, denn ich habe das Gefühl, dass die Pandemie meine letzten Jahre bestimmen wird. Das wäre sehr schade. 08. Januar 2022 Nun ist es also auch in Deutschland so weit! Die Omikron-Variante treibt die Infektionszahlen wieder in die Höhe. Die lang erwartete fünfte Welle, die nun in den Medien als Omikron-Welle bezeichnet wird, schickt sich an, die deutsche Gesellschaft zu drangsalieren. In den meisten anderen europäischen Staaten sind die 1000er oder sogar 2000er Marken für die 7-Tage-Inzidenz pro 100 000 Einwohner längst gerissen worden. Was die deutschen Politiker aus den Erfahrungen der Nachbarn gelernt haben, ist, dass die Aufrechterhaltung der notwendigen Infrastruktur durch Krankenstände und Quarantäne ein viel größeres Problem darstellt, als die Belegung der Intensivbetten. Die gute Nachricht ist nämlich, dass Omikron besonders dreifach Geimpfte nicht so krank macht. Ein Hoffnungsschimmer am Horizont! Die schlechte Nachricht ist, dass die Virusvariante um ein Vielfaches ansteckender ist. Die Ministerpräsidenten der Länder und die Bundesregierung haben daher gestern beschlossen, Quarantänezeiten teilweise zu verkürzen und den dreifach Geimpften etwas mehr Freiraum zu geben. In Restaurants gilt ja 2 G+. Aber drei Impfungen ersetzen den Test. Recht viel mehr wird nicht geregelt und die Bundesländer waren sich schon Minuten nach den gemeinsamen Beschlüssen nicht sicher, ob sie das so gut finden und auch genau so umsetzen werden. Manchmal glaube ich, dass Deutschland immer noch von Landesfürsten wie im 18./19. Jahrhundert regiert wird. Leider entfaltet auch die Querdenkerszene exponentielles Wachstum. Es scheint immer mehr Leuten Spaß zu machen, sich „zufällig“ bei „Spaziergängen“ zu Hunderten, manchmal zu Tausenden zu treffen. Manchmal kommt es zu gewalttätigen Auseinandersetzungen mit der Polizei. Das Anliegen ist immer noch, dass man gegen Anti-Corona-Maßnahmen ist. Es handelt sich also um Nichtdemonstrationen für Anti-Anti-Corona-Maßnahmen. Ich denke nach wie vor, dass rechte Gruppierungen mit der Organisation dieser Proteste mittel- und langfristig Menschen für ihre politischen Ziele fischen. Ich hoffe, ich irre mich! 19. Januar 2022 Omikron geht um in Deutschland! Aber mit Sicherheit stehen wir noch am Anfang dieser Welle, denn die europäischen Nachbarn, die schon länger betroffen sind, haben 7-Tage-Inzidenzen pro 100.000 Einwohner von 2- oder sogar mehr als 3 000. In UK scheint der Höhepunkt überschritten, die Fallzahlen sinken wieder. Vielleicht mangelt es auch an Tests, wie Lisa erzählt. Die Belastung für die Intensivstationen stieg aber nirgends so stark wie die Infektionszahl. Das ist eine gute Nachricht. Allerdings haben die meisten europäischen Nachbarn eine höhere Impfquote (72,8) als Deutschland. Aber in unserer Regierung traut sich niemand ein Gesetz zur Impfpflicht auf den Weg zu bringen, wie das Österreich bereits getan hat und Italien es wenigstens ab einem bestimmten Alter tut. Gesundheitsminister Lauterbach und Kanzler Scholz, beide SPD, sprechen sich dafür aus. Aber die Regierungskoalition will, dass das Parlament die Gesetzesinitiative ergreift und einen Entwurf vorlegt. Dass der Bundestag so einem Gesetz zustimmen muss, ist eh klar. Aber bei den meisten Gesetzesvorhaben ist es die Regierung, die eine Vorlage zur Debatte stellt. Das Parlament braucht viel länger, muss erst die Berater-Ressourcen zusammenstellen, Mitstreiter finden… Ja, ich laste dieser Regierung Scheinheiligkeit und Feigheit an. Das Argument, dass es sich um eine Gewissensentscheidung für die Abgeordneten handle und man daher keinen „Fraktionszwang“ geltend machen wolle, ist Bullshit. Laut Grundgesetz sind die Abgeordneten immer nur ihrem Gewissen verantwortlich. Dass dem meist nicht so ist, dass statt Gewissen Fraktion und Koalition Verantwortung einfordern, ist bekannt, aber trotzdem nicht korrekt. Den Abgeordneten ihr Gewissen zu lassen, ist keine großzügige Geste der Regierung, sondern schlichtes Befolgen des Grundgesetzes. In Wahrheit wollen die Regierungsparteien nicht die Verantwortung dafür übernehmen, dass wahrscheinlich auf den Straßen massenhaft friedliche oder auch gewalttätige Demonstrationen der Impfgegner, Querdenker und der Rechten stattfinden würden. Da jetzt auch Gegendemonstranten auf die Straße gehen, könnte es natürlich zu Auseinandersetzungen kommen. Tja, so haben wir in Deutschland die Situation, dass laut Umfragen die Mehrheit eine Impfpflicht wünscht, aber eine Minderheit so sehr gefürchtet wird, dass sie eine erwünschte Maßnahme, ja ein gewünschtes Gesetz verhindern kann. In Deutschland gilt der Minderheitenschutz und das ist auch richtig so. Aber was, wenn Minderheiten missbraucht werden?! Hatten wir so ein Szenario schon in der Geschichte? Ich muss darüber nachdenken! 11. Februar 2022 Es gab nun längere Zeit nichts Neues zu berichten aus Deutschland in der vierten Corona-Omikron-Welle. Die Infektionszahlen stiegen und steigen immer noch. Der Höhepunkt ist mit ca. 200 000 Infektionen täglich (Inzidenz von ca. 1400) noch nicht erreicht. Dänemark hat eine Inzidenz von über 5000 und legt trotzdem keinen Wert auf Einschränkungen. Ein Vorbild für viele hier in Deutschland. Bei uns werden nun auch hauptsächlich von politischer Seite Lockerungen gefordert, weil die Intensivstationen von den hohen Infektionszahlen kaum betroffen seien. Aber wenn man sich als ganz normale Zeitungsleserin täglich die Zahlen anschaut, dann sieht man, dass seit ein paar Tagen die Belegung der Intensivbetten steigt und auch die Todesfälle mehr werden. Gesundheitsminister Lauterbach warnt vor Lockerungen und rechnet vor, dass man mit bis zu 500 Toten täglich rechnen müsse. Auch Wissenschaftler, Virologen und Mediziner aller Art sehen keinen Grund derzeit zu lockern. Wieso jetzt der richtige Zeitpunkt für Lockerungen sein sollte, erschließt sich mir auch nicht. Ungläubig schaue ich auch auf die Umsetzung zur Teilimpfpflicht und zur Gesetzesvorlage einer allgemeinen Impfpflicht. Eigentlich müssten lt. Gesetz am 15. März alle Beschäftigte in Kliniken und Pflegeeinrichtungen durch eine Impfung immunisiert sein. Das Bundesverfassungsgericht hat Eilanträge zur Aussetzung dieses Gesetzes abgelehnt. Also kann niemand ausbüchsen? Entweder impfen oder Jobwechsel! Aber nein, es gibt noch eine dritte Möglichkeit! Auswandern nach Bayern! Der bayerische Ministerpräsident Markus Söder hat nämlich vor ein paar Tagen verkündet, dass er diese Impfpflicht nicht umsetzen werde, da die Bedingungen nicht geregelt seien. Man würde nur im Chaos enden und so das Vertrauen der Bevölkerung verlieren. „Welches Vertrauen?“, kann ich da nur fragen. Aber es steht ja im Bundestag auch noch Gesetzesinitiativen zur allgemeinen Impfpflicht aus, die von partei-, fraktions- und ministerienübergreifenden Gruppen vorgelegt werden sollten, so der Wunsch der Bundesregierung. Die wollte sich offensichtlich damit die Hände nicht schmutzig machen. Ja, diese Vorschläge werden in diesen Tagen vorgelegt. Seit Dezember 2021 liegt ein Antrag des Bundestagsvizepräsidenten Wolfgang Kubicki (FDP) vor, der gegen eine Impfpflicht ist. Ein anderer FDP-Parlamentarier arbeitet mit einer Gruppe noch an einem Stufenmodell. Einer Beratungspflicht (was auch immer das heißen mag) würde, falls notwendig, eine Impfpflicht für über 50-Jährige folgen. Die Fraktion aus CDU/CSU nennt ihren Vorschlag „Impfvorsorgegesetz“. Es sieht die konkrete und logistische Vorbereitung auf eine Impfpflicht vor, wozu auch ein Impfregister gehört. Einführen wolle man sie aber nur, falls die Situation im Herbst dies erfordere. SPD-Parlamentarier könnten angeblich sofort einen interfraktionellen Entwurf zur allgemeinen (ab 18 Jahren) zeitlich befristeten auf drei Impfungen begrenzten Impfpflicht vorlegen. Es kommen langsam Zweifel auf, ob Ende März oder auch vor Ostern, also Mitte April, alle drei Lesungen stattgefunden haben könnten und man zur Beschlussfassung übergehen könne. Der Bundesrat muss ja auch noch abstimmen. Von politischer Seite ist auch vorgesehen, dass die Krankenkassen mit der Kontrolle der Impfpflicht beauftragt werden sollten, vermutlich da ja jeder in unserem Land krankenversichert sein muss und daher die Daten bei den Kassen herumliegen. Die Krankenkassen wehren sich aber mit Händen und Füßen dagegen. Da bin ich mal gespannt, wie man die ins Boot holen will! Also ich schätze, wenn nicht noch eine Wahnsinnsmutation für eine Neubewertung der Lage sorgt, dann verabschiedet unser Parlament ein Gesetz dann, wenn sich die Deutschen fragen, „Corona, was war das gleich nochmal?“. Überspitzt gesagt! 21. März 2022 Erstens kommt es anders, zweitens als man denkt! Dieses Sprichwort bewahrheitet sich wieder einmal. Eigentlich dachte ich ja, dass die Pandemie ihrem Ende entgegenstrebe und ich diesen Beitrag in diesen Tagen schließen könne. Tatsächlich veränderte sich die Lage in unerwarteter Weise dramatisch. Dass die Infektionszahlen im Zeitraum vom 11. Februar bis heute zuerst fielen und dann auf hohem Niveau gleich wieder so sehr anstiegen, dass täglich Höchstwerte gemeldet werden, ist aber nicht der große Wendepunkt. Ein ganz anderes weltpolitisches Ereignis bewegt Politiker aller Welt, aber besonders die Europäer: Die Armee der russischen Föderation hat am 24. Februar tatsächlich die Ukraine angegriffen und überzieht nun das Land mit Krieg. Es fallen sozusagen im Vorgarten Europas Bomben auf Wohnhäuser, Soldaten und Zivilisten sterben, drei Millionen Flüchtlinge strömen in die EU. Dieses Szenario hat der Pandemie nun in der öffentlichen Diskussion den Rang abgelaufen, so zynisch das auch klingen mag. Aber ich will dennoch den Stand der Pandemie in Deutschland für die Nachwelt festhalten. Heute liegt die 7-Tage-Inzidenz pro 100.000 Einwohner in Deutschland bei 1745, Tendenz steigend. Die Anzahl der vollständig Geimpften hat nicht mehr wesentlich zugenommen. Sie beträgt immer noch ca. 71 Prozent. Am 20. März 2022 sollten dennoch lt. überarbeitetem Infektionsschutzgesetz die meisten Schutzmaßnahmen ein Ende haben. Allerdings wurden die Bundesländer ermächtigt, in Eigenregie Maßnahmen beizubehalten oder auch nicht. Der Maßnahmen-Flicken-Teppich in Deutschland feiert also wie schon so oft fröhliche Urständ. Ich trage einfach meine FFP2-Maske nach wie vor überall, wo viele Menschen in Innenräumen zusammenkommen und natürlich in allen öffentlichen Verkehrsmitteln. Ob ich das muss? Keine Ahnung! Ist mir aber ganz egal, denn bei diesen Infektionszahlen macht das für mich Sinn. Die Impfpflicht für Beschäftigte in Kliniken und Pflegeeinrichtungen, die eigentlich ab dem 15. März hätte gelten sollen, ist natürlich noch nicht durchgesetzt. Und über die allgemeine Impfpflicht wird in der Politik und in den Medien immer noch gestritten, aber nicht mehr an prominenter Stelle. Die allgemeine Aufmerksamkeit gehört dem Kriegsgeschehen. Es ist mir ein Anliegen anzumerken, dass sich meine Befürchtungen hinsichtlich der rechten Szene und der Querdenker- bzw. Verschwörungstheoretiker-Szene tatsächlich zu bewahrheiten scheinen. Die Mythen um die Pandemie stießen im Laufe des Februars 2022 nicht mehr auf das große Interesse. Nun schüren dieselben Leute und Gruppen entsprechende Verschwörungstheorien bezüglich des Krieges. Viele scheinen sich mit dem russischen Präsidenten Putin und Russland zu identifizieren. (Quelle: https://www.sueddeutsche.de/projekte/artikel/politik/der-ukraine-krieg-als-grosse-verschwoerung-e916186/) Ich habe das Gefühl, dass die Gefahren der Pandemie keineswegs vorbei sind, obwohl sie nicht mehr die Aufmerksamkeit erhält wie früher. Von Befreiung kann nicht die Rede sein. Und es ist die Auseinandersetzung mit der Kriegsgefahr und all den menschlichen und wirtschaftlichen sowie politischen Folgen hinzugekommen. Ich bin mir derzeit schmerzhaft der Tatsache bewusst, dass man als Zeitgenosse keinen tieferen Einblick und überhaupt keinen Überblick hat. Aber dieses Thema möchte ich demnächst in der Rubrik „Ukraine“ bearbeiten. 08. April 2022 Nun ist es also wirklich so weit. Die Pandemie macht eine Pause! Genauer gesagt: Nicht die Pandemie macht eine Pause, sondern die Maßnahmen zur Eindämmung der Pandemie machen eine Pause. Das hört sich merkwürdig an, wenn man bedenkt, dass die 7-Tage-Inzidenz pro 100.000 Einwohner in Deutschland derzeit 1181 (Tendenz fallend) beträgt. Auch an der unzureichenden Impfquote hat sich kaum etwas geändert. Aber dennoch ist die Maskenpflicht tatsächlich gefallen wie fast alle anderen Schutzmaßnahmen schon vorher. Als ich heute zum Einkaufen in den Supermarkt ging, war ich mit meiner Maske im Gesicht eine Außenseiterin. Der deutsche Bundestag hat heute auch mehrheitlich gegen eine generelle Impfpflicht gestimmt. Nicht einmal dem Kompromiss, dass die über 60-Jährigen sich einer Impfpflicht beugen sollten, mochte das deutsche Parlament zustimmen. Sind wir nun endgültig an dem Punkt angelangt, wo die Corona-Pandemie, die ungefähr im Februar 2020 zumindest in Europa begann, langsam aus dem Bewusstsein der Menschen Stück für Stück verschwindet? Werden sich immer wieder Wellen aufbauen? Werden wir alle einfach mit dem Virus und der Infektionsgefahr leben wie mit anderen Gefahren auch? Werden wir vergessen? Oder gibt es ein böses Erwachen? Wir werden sehen!

Barbara Halstenberg: „Alles schaukelt, der ganze Bunker schaukelt“. Die letzten Kriegskinder erzählen, 2021, Osburg Verlag, ISBN 978-3-95510-258-6 (DE) Was war schlimmer? Die Bomben oder der Hunger? Die Angst vor den Tieffliegern oder vor den Vergewaltigern der Mütter und Tanten? Der Anblick der verstümmelten Toten in den Straßen oder des zerstörten Zuhauses? Der Verlust von Familienmitgliedern oder der Verlust jedweder Geborgenheit? Eine grausliche Auswahl an leidvollen Erfahrungen! Aber das Schlimmste, da sind sich alle einig, ist der Krieg an sich. Die Kindheit dieser Generation war geprägt vom Bombenkrieg, von Flucht und Vertreibung, vom Miterleben der Vergewaltigung ihrer Mütter oder Nachbarinnen, von den Erlebnissen in der Hitlerjugend und als Kindersoldaten im Volkssturm, von der Erziehung durch Nazi-Eltern oder durch Verfolgte, von der Anwesenheit von Zwangsarbeitern und Zwangsarbeiterinnen, von der Vertreibung, von Kriegsende und Besatzung, von unbekannten Vätern und anderen Kriegstraumata. In 16 Kapiteln widmet sich die Autorin diesen unterschiedlichen Schwerpunkten. Einige der 100 Zeitzeugen, die als Kleinkinder, Schulkinder oder Jugendliche die Nazizeit, den Zweiten Weltkrieg und die Nachkriegszeit in Deutschland erlebt haben, ringen in ihren Erinnerungen um eine Art Gewichtung der gemachten Erfahrungen. Die Fülle an schlimmen Erlebnissen, an Gräueln, denen diese Generation in ihrer Kindheit ausgesetzt war, ist oftmals nur in einzelnen Anekdoten zu ertragen, sowohl für den Erzähler oder die Erzählerin wie auch für den Leser. Barbara Halstenberg lässt in ihrem Buch diese über 80-jährigen Kriegskinder mit eigenen Worten zu Wort kommen. Wiederholungen, Stammeln, angefangene Sätze und Abbruch der Geschichten, Emotionen in Klammern…, all das schafft Bilder und Betroffenheit wie sie die Interviewerin selbst erlebte. Es ist eine authentische Art des Erzählens, wie ich sie aus meiner Kindheit in den 50er und 60er Jahren kenne. Beim Lesen saß ich wieder bei meinen Großmüttern auf dem Sofa in der Wohnküche und forderte: „Oma, erzähl von früher!“ Ich bin Jahrgang 1953 und meine Großelterngeneration sind die Eltern der Kriegskinder. Meine Eltern, Jahrgang 1933, jedoch waren Kriegskinder. Ja, die Interviewpartnerinnen und -partner der Autorin haben recht, auch ich habe bei den Erzählungen meiner Eltern nicht nachgefragt. Obwohl ich alles über die Erlebnisse meiner Großeltern wissen wollte, begnügte ich mich mit ein paar dünnen Anekdoten aus dem Erinnerungsfundus meiner Eltern. Wenn ich jedoch lese, wie schlimm der Hunger für die Kinder zu ertragen war, bekommt der Satz meines Vaters, „Ich hab immer Hunger gehabt, immer Hunger!“, ein ganz anderes Gewicht. Ich kannte dieses Phänomen, dass mein Vater immer Hunger hatte. Das war nichts Besonderes. Nun weiß ich, was dahinter steckt. Nun würde ich gern nachfragen. Aber es ist zu spät. Aufgewühlt hat mich auch so manche Erzählung, die von ungläubigem Auflachen begleitet wurde, obwohl das Erlebnis grauenhaft war. In meiner Familie wurde auch über so manche Geschichte gelacht, die eigentlich zum Heulen war. Alle schütteten sich regelmäßig aus vor lachen, weil mein Vater als 10-Jähriger mutterseelenallein verschüttet worden war, aber ausgegraben wurde und meine Großmutter als erstes fragte: „Ist dein Radl kaputt?“ Während ich in den Geschichten des Buches trotz des Lachens das Trauma sofort erkennen kann, konnte ich es aufgrund des Lachens bei meinem Vater nicht. Letzte Chance für Nachkriegskinder ihre Eltern zu begreifen Obwohl meine Eltern tot sind, eröffnen mir die Zeitzeugen dieses Buches eine andere Perspektive auf die Erzählungen meiner Großeltern und Eltern. Das ist eine großartige unerwartete Auswirkung, für die ich sehr dankbar bin. Barbara Halstenbergs Buch ist ein wichtiges Zeitzeugenprojekt. Meine Generation braucht diese Einsichten in die Erlebniswelt unserer Eltern, denen wir zumindest in unserer Jugend äußerst kritisch gegenüber standen. Es ist unsere letzte Chance, zu begreifen, wie sehr unsere Eltern durch ihre spezielle Kindheit geprägt wurden und uns wiederum prägten. Ob wir uns anpassten oder protestierten und genau das Gegenteil anstrebten, spielt keine Rolle. Unser Bezugspunkt ist die vorangegangene Generation mit all ihren Traumata und Verdrängungen. Und uns sollte klar sein, dass auch unsere Generation, die Nachkriegskinder, als Zeitzeugen eine Aufgabe zu erfüllen hat. Anleitung für Interviews Barbara Halstenberg hat im hinteren Teil ihres Buches eine Anleitung für Interviews angefügt, die geeignet ist, den Erinnerungsschatz in Familien zu heben, bevor er für immer verschwindet. Viele dieser Ratschläge eignen sich nicht nur für Kriegskinder sondern auch für „Kinder des Kalten Krieges“. (TA)

Peter Scholl-Latour: Russia in a Pincer Grip. Putin’s Empire between Nato, China and Islam. First edition 2007, 17th edition 2022, Ullstein Verlag. (DE) In this book, the German-French journalist, non-fiction author, and publicist Peter Scholl-Latour (born 1924, died 2014) analyses Russia’s situation from the perspective of a contemporary of the year 2006. In the preface, written in 2007, he still refers explicitly to Vladimir Putin’s speech in which he denounced the behaviour of the USA and the Europeans at the Munich “Wehrkunde Conference” (later called the Munich Security Conference) as unacceptable. The subsequent developments in the years leading up to the occupation of Crimea by the Russian Federation in 2014, and ultimately to the war of aggression in 2022, are not reflected in this work, which was reprinted in 2022. Nevertheless, it can contribute significantly to understanding the prehistory of this escalation. The last chapter is devoted to Ukraine, starting with the “Orange Revolution” on the Meidan in Kyiv in 2004. The way the situation is described and the bravery and capacity for the suffering of the Ukrainians are depicted looks very familiar to the current reporting by Western media in 2022. At that time, the Ukrainian young and beautiful politician Yulia Tymoshenko passionately, reminiscent of Evita Peròn, fought for Ukraine’s freedom and independence internally and externally. The media adored her. Politicians at least pretended to support her. Today, it is Ukrainian President Volodymyr Selensky who is seen as a hero and revered accordingly or at least treated with respect. There is hardly a meeting of powerful Western states anymore where the Ukrainian president is not called in. Back then, masses of Ukrainians held out daily on the central square in Kyiv, braving freezing cold and hunger. In any case, the Western media admired, celebrated and supported this heroic behaviour of the Ukrainians, just as it is today. At the time, the press did not allow this heroic image to be disturbed by showing the 1500-person supply tent in the square in Kyiv. Ukraine and its people were stylised into an icon. But images fade, and stories, as well as their protagonists, are forgotten. Has this profoundly changed Ukraine? Has it improved Ukraine’s relations with the EU and Russia? What became of this solidarity of the Western world, the Europeans and the USA? What were the consequences of Putin’s all-out attack in 2007? These are the questions we are asking ourselves today as we stand on the brink of a world war that, if it broke out, began with the Russian Federation’s invasion of Ukraine. Every politically responsible person, every journalist and every politically thinking person should be interested in how this experienced publicist assessed the situation in 2006 at that time. Compared to the actual course of history up to today, 16 years later, invaluable insights could be gained from this. In retrospect, one can perhaps better recognise errors and omissions and possibly find ways of de-escalation. (TA)

Spring to early summer 2020) (DE) It's the afternoon of 16th June 2021. Fifteen months after the Bavarian prime minister declared a state of emergency because of the pandemic. I am sitting for the first time again, on the terrace of a café relaxing in the sun. The infection figures are low, as my morning check of the 7-day incidence figures in Bavaria and my district showed. I am also vaccinated. I want to celebrate that in style with a big piece of cake. The waiter wears a mask. I am only allowed to take my mask off when sitting at the table. I have to fill out a registration form. Another guest, also wearing a mask, shyly asks me if he can join me at my table at a distance of 1.50 m, which I allow him to do, but the café owner refuses. All that does not dampen my euphoria. At last, everyday life again! Really? Is that normal now?! Before 16th March 2020, it would all have been absurd. Simply unthinkable. At the beginning! At the beginning of 2020, the media were full of reports of this new lung disease in China, which had apparently spread from animals to humans at an animal market in Wuhan. Well, these things do happen! But, unfortunately, it's not the first time it's occurred! And it won't be the last! The SARS virus, a member of the coronavirus family, has been known since 2003. It's annoying and pandemic-prone, but it's a threat that humanity will have to live with. When, at the end of January 2020, the first individual infections occurred in a company in Bavaria due to a Chinese employee, it was news but not yet a red alert. Innocent as a toddler, I groped my way through my seemingly safe world. Yes, yes, there is a virus in China, Sars or something like that. We've had it before. I vaguely remember. I attended a big birthday party suspecting no harm at the beginning of February, visited my old mother in a nursing home and on 8th March, during a two-day stay at my girlfriend's, discussed whether a holiday in Greece would be possible in June or July. But, of course, at that time, I travelled undeterred and for hours unprotected by public transport, without a mask, without disinfectant. When an older man in the greengrocer's shop refused to touch the door handle because he had heard that one could get infected with this virus from China, I mockingly grabbed the handle and demonstratively held the door open for him. You can really overdo it! So I thought. Many others felt the same way. People went on winter holidays at the beginning of February, either to exotic countries or to the Bavarian Alps or Austria for skiing. The winter sports resort of Ischgl in Austria later became synonymous with a super-spreading event like no other. But hardly anyone believed at the time that they were in danger or that our everyday life could change fundamentally. Then came that 16th March mentioned above: The Bavarian Prime Minister Markus Söder announced the state of emergency and the restrictions. My world changed, as did my attitude. At first, my fear was vague and diffuse. Gradually, it took control of my actions, and I developed a tremendous need for information. The more knowledge I gained, the greater the fear became and the greater my appetite for more information. "I don't want to suffocate!" it pounded in my head. "How can I stop this?" Strangely enough, the prospect that my heart, weakened by a heart attack, would probably fail first and I possibly would be spared suffocation provided some comfort for me. I relaxed and observed curiously what was happening around me. Shut down, stay in, stay alone! "Shutdown", "Lockdown"! New Anglicisms, new interference in personal freedom, a new situation that most people in Germany had never experienced before. "Stay at home!", "Don't meet anyone!", "Keep two metres away!" And "Wash your hands for three minutes if you had to have contact!" The usefulness of masks is debated and there are hardly any to buy anyway. These virologists' recommendations were cast into law and now restricted people's fundamental rights. For me, however, as for many others, the need for safety was more substantial than the need for freedom, and even my usual mistrust took a back seat to fear and uncertainty for the time being. Actually, a dangerous development because that's how manipulation works. I was aware of this and wanted to be vigilant. Finally, however, I concluded that the measures were necessary and that there was no political calculation behind them. Obeying the government but mainly listening to reason In my immediate environment, the mood and behaviour changed abruptly. No one had any idea what would happen next. My ex-husband, and best friend, who had just driven from Hamburg to Naila in Bavaria (ca. 550 km, a 6 hours drive) on 15th March to decorate my second home in our son's house, hurried back home to his wife only two days later. Again, no one had any idea how much our freedom of movement would be restricted. We were afraid there could be a curfew, and he might not be able to leave Bavaria. Moreover, the motorways could be blocked entirely, for example, if the border to Poland were closed. Then there would be no possibility of getting through. There was a tremendous sense of uncertainty since we had never experienced such restrictions on our freedom of movement before. Five days later, on Friday, 20th March, my son and his wife hastily left my Munich flat, where they lived during the working week. They, too, feared that they might not be allowed to leave Munich, and the home office in their house in Upper Franconia was a most welcome option. So now we lived door to door in the two flats of his house in Naila. My son and daughter-in-law did the shopping for me but kept their distance for the next two weeks. After all, no one knew if they had been infected while still walking around unsuspectingly and unprotected in Munich. The rest of the Germans now seemed inclined to panic buy. Oddly enough, people were seen with loads of toilet paper in their shopping trolleys, which led to all kinds of jokes on social media. So I gave my son, who had his birthday in those first days of the pandemic, a roll of toilet paper, nicely wrapped as a present. He was pleased. There was nowhere to buy a gift anyway, as the relevant shops were closed. My daughter-in-law left a slice of homemade birthday cake in front of my door. So much for celebrations during that time. Although I was now living in the same house with my family, I met no one. I was alone. For hours every day, I read the news, reviews and science reports and tried to make sense of the regulations. I feared that I would have to leave my son's house because this was only my secondary residence. In fact, if the two homes had been in different federal states, such as Schleswig-Holstein or Mecklenburg-Western Pomerania, I would have been forced to return to my primary residence in Munich even so there would have been no one there to support me in case of quarantine or illness. Thank God there were no such restrictions on residences within Bavaria. Each federal state made its own laws and regulations. As a result, the pandemic measures became confusing in our federal republic and remained so for a long time. Yet, in the beginning, most people accepted the measures and adhered to the laws and bans. Out of fear? Out of solidarity? Out of insecurity? Hard to say. What is certain is that this collective "shutdown" also offered something in itself. No one missed anything! It was calming, even relaxing for me. Little contact - more communication The need for communication, of course, increased exponentially with the contact restrictions and increased numbers of infections. So I gathered information and viewpoints from the online editions of print media and broadcasters' news, documentaries and expert roundtables. But with whom should I share my findings, and by what means? Digitally - WhatsApp and Facebook - was not enough. Phone calls were much better. Skyping was almost like face-to-face meetings, only without the risk of infection. Now many more people have the time for long conversations. With one of my friends, I even arranged a daily morning chat to exchange thoughts and information. We noticed that we were coping quite well with this situation. Suddenly, we were all in the same boat, adhering to simple rules that promised us safety and protection. We looked forward with curiosity to the things that were to come. As pensioners, we belonged to the risk group in terms of age and previous illnesses, but on the other hand, we had already left the daily business and had long since become accustomed to fewer contacts. So we all marvelled at the new social developments in Germany. Denunciation and aggression My friend angrily told me of a heated argument with a neighbouring family. They could watch the public playground from their garden and see parents playing there with their children, which was forbidden. The neighbour seriously considered calling the police, even though the lawbreakers were only one family who probably did not have a garden of their own and needed to keep the children busy. The police announced in the press that people regularly denounced their neighbours for allegedly violating one of the rules of the Infection Protection Act. I was also stunned to read about a woman sitting on a park bench in the English Garden, reading alone. She was chased away by the police. Why? At that time, being in public places was only allowed for urgent reasons. Going for a walk is necessary; sitting on a bench and reading is not, but taking a short rest during a walk is. Yet, the latter had to be explicitly permitted by the Bavarian Minister of the Interior. Considering that the risk of infection of a single person sitting alone in public in the fresh air is zero, one must wonder about the reasoning behind such bans and about the people who want such prohibitions to be obeyed. It just didn't make sense to me that bans and prohibitions could be used as a basis for denunciation without any meaningful consideration, without any standards of their own. Why did people believe more in the letters of a quickly cobbled-together law than in their clear common sense? If I am alone, I cannot infect myself or anyone else. So there is no need for action for now. But obviously, at that time, panic and a sense of obedience to authority dominated rather than personal responsibility and independent thinking. On the German Baltic coast, i.e. in Schleswig-Holstein and Mecklenburg-Western Pomerania, particular laws applied. Second-home owners from Hamburg and Berlin were at times not allowed to travel to their homes to avoid people fleeing the cramped cities and overburdening the local health system. Several locals paid meticulous attention to whether a stranger was shopping in the grocery shop or a familiar local face standing in front of the counter. So it could happen that a person was not served and could not buy anything to eat. Some angry residents even took out their anger and fear on the cars with non-local license plates. I was scared reading these press reports. I feared that anticipatory obedience, scare-biting and finally, the loss of compassion in the crisis would indeed build up. I even began to mentally check my neighbourhood to see if they had the potential for denunciation or not. Easing, but not the end The first wave peaked in early April 2020 and then slowly subsided. From mid-April, society gradually reopened, and on 17th June 2020, the state of emergency was lifted. Yet, it had to be clear to everyone that the pandemic was not over yet. The virus would be on the move with all the travellers around the globe this summer, and of course, it would return. Still, my country was not prepared again for this foreseeable catastrophe. (TA)