Today was the last class....kind of sad. I've enjoyed the routine of going to class, seeing the other students, studying.
The homeless African guy was back at the U4 station this morning selling his papers. I pressed a coin into his hand, said good morning, kept walking.
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At the school, we got our test results. Of 88 possible points, I got 79. I'd have done better but I made a stupid mistake on one of the segments---you were supposed to say what object the person HAS, but I thought I was supposed to say what object they were LOOKING FOR, so I wrote the sentences wrong. Still, I passed, which means if I want to go to the next level I can. Unfortunately I'll have to wait until my next visit---upcoming events make it impossible for me to start school again next month.
We had one final lesson (separable prefix verbs---oy vey!) then the teacher gave a little speech in which she told us we'd been a good group and she'd had a good time. I think she was being honest----we have a friend who tells us many of these German teachers have students who have traumatic pasts, and sometimes the mere mention of an innocent word can trigger fits of crying in class because it reminds the students of some horror in their past. None of that with our group...
As a gift, I gave the teacher a bottle of wine and the Canadian guy gave her a box of chocolates. She seemed touched.
After class, a few of us hung around in the hallway for a few minutes, not really wanting to be done with our togetherness. We exchanged contact info, but I've done that often enough to know how it'll go---no contact will be made and we'll vanish in the haze of each others' memories as we go our separate ways.
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I got lunch at a pizza place. Mixed neighborhood, lots of immigrants, old guys meeting and sitting at the tables or on nearby benches, speaking languages I didn't understand (that is, not English.)
Time came to pay. The bill was 8 Euro. I gave the waiter a 20, he gave me 2 back, and made like he was finished. "Excuse me, I gave you a 20..." I couldn't tell if he was trying to cheat me or if it was an honest mistake, but I had the feeling it was the former. I got the proper change and crossed that restaurant off my list of places to eat.
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Having a routine this past month, I've noticed certain things as I walk along. One was the image of an old lady who lives across from the school, looking into a mirror while standing close to her window on the 2nd floor; I've seen this several times. She spends a lot of time gazing into that mirror, looking for---what?
She was there again this morning so I ran upstairs to the classroom, and took a shot downward from the 3rd floor, into her apartment...
Her morning ritual. She stares into the mirror for several minutes.
What is she hoping to see---or not see?
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We drove to Cafe Rudigerhof in the evening to meet our friends K and U.
Even after dark the city held the heat of the day. We sat outside on the spacious patio, eating and talking about things.
Part of the patio at Cafe Rudigerhof.
This is only about a third of the available seating space outdoors.
Not bad business for a Thursday night...
Some of the topics discussed over dinner and drinks:
PUBLIC TRANSPORTATION IN THE US: K was in Philadelphia for a week, then in NYC for a few days. He said: "They say public transportation in the US is no good, but it works very well in these cities. Efficient, reliable. But the stations and the trains are not attractive." In Vienna, there are crews of people who board the trains and sweep up, the trains are frequently washed, etc.
THE "SPEAK GERMAN" REQUIREMENT FOR IMMIGRATION: K didn't see the neccesity, but I do. If you're going to live in a place, learn the fucking language----period. But he says: "There is no need to force them. If they do not learn the language, they will not be able to get good jobs and this is motivation enough." Thing is, many immigrants aren't looking for a "good" job, they want ANY job, because any job is better than what they faced back in Kosovo or wherever. Also, forcing immigrants to learn German is one way to force vieled Muslim women more into the mainstream of society---which I think many of them want, but without being required to assimilate at least in some ways by law, these women can and often are kept virtual prisoners within their sub-community.
BUSINESS ON PARADE: K works at a small manufacturing plant owned by his family. The company has been in business many years. A few years ago, they were forced by EU regulations to move their operation from a building they owned, to a more modern building they had to rent. The enormous cost of doing this put the operation in financial trouble and it's been struggling ever since.
For the sake of privacy I won't say what they manufacture, but basically there are two lines of products: one that is very tightly regulated and controlled, and the other which is a lot less regulated. When the news came that they would have to move to continue producing both products, K suggested they stop producing the overly-regulated product and concentrate instead on the less-regulated product, so they could stay in their old, paid-for, low-overhead facility, because it could comply with existing regulations pertaining to the less-regulated product. But he was outvoted so they moved, borrowed a lot of money to make the expansion, etc.
So now they need a buyer. It's not as if they're producing obsolete products like manual typewriters, or something. Their products are in demand and they have contracts to produce these products for large retailers. But there's a "grow or die" thing in business and the question is: What happens when every small company or family farm that used to exist gets bought up (or killed) by, say, Google or Walmart? What does the One True Company then become "absorbed into?"
I thought of Thomas the Bookbinder, and how he's managed to make it by binding books for thirty years. He did it by contracting, not expanding. He went small, not big. Low overhead, and he's in an essentially unregulated business. No employees. Equipment that needn't be updated every two years. A cottage industry.
It was a good evening. We all agreed hard times, they might be a-comin' soon, so better drink up and laugh while the drinkin' and laughin' is good.
