Linden-Limmer - Hannover (Niedersachsen, Germany)
We visit the kind, elderly gentleman at his honey stand again. Last time we bought two more jars of honey from him and talked about how we bake our own bread. He offered to bring us some sourdough starter. He told us a bit more about himself and we about us. The honey business – what began as a hobby – has become a fixed part of his new daily routine.
He seems happy with it, enjoys doing it. Sitting at the little table in front of his garden or going to markets and connecting with people brings him joy. A warm person. A few kind words and trust in a stranger who can become a friend from one moment to the next – thus the possibility of a deep encounter, however fleeting it may be. That is simply beautiful.
So different was the experience at the canal. It's a late afternoon with sunshine. I stroll leisurely along the shore and keep stopping, taking photos or making short videos. At one spot, pigeons and ducks are together on the shore. A few things are lying around. As I pass by and my gaze lingers on the animals, I hear a voice from the bushes: "I'm keeping a close eye on those things – I'm warning you." Suspicious and begrudging.
In this moment I freeze and the past strikes. With it, a wall of deep and hurtful feelings shoots up like the eruption of a volcano. Any words stick in my throat. Here I am without any intention and open to the world, yet I'm prejudged with deep mistrust. An all too familiar feeling. A feeling I grew up with.
Two encounters that couldn't be more different. The first touches me, but the second hits me to the core. A storm of emotions brews within me, so strong that my head seems about to burst. I continue walking along the shore, and after a while anger rises within me. This becomes rage and hatred. With it, thoughts I don't want to put into words. It is intense and turbulent. Within it lies the potential for destruction, for the anger I feel has the power to destroy. I feel sick and dizzy.
We visit the kind, elderly gentleman at his honey stand again. Last time we bought two more jars of honey from him and talked about how we bake our own bread. He offered to bring us some sourdough starter. He told us a bit more about himself and we about us. The honey business – what began as a hobby – has become a fixed part of his new daily routine.
He seems happy with it, enjoys doing it. Sitting at the little table in front of his garden or going to markets and connecting with people brings him joy. A warm person. A few kind words and trust in a stranger who can become a friend from one moment to the next – thus the possibility of a deep encounter, however fleeting it may be. That is simply beautiful.
So different was the experience at the canal. It's a late afternoon with sunshine. I stroll leisurely along the shore and keep stopping, taking photos or making short videos. At one spot, pigeons and ducks are together on the shore. A few things are lying around. As I pass by and my gaze lingers on the animals, I hear a voice from the bushes: "I'm keeping a close eye on those things – I'm warning you." Suspicious and begrudging.
In this moment I freeze and the past strikes. With it, a wall of deep and hurtful feelings shoots up like the eruption of a volcano. Any words stick in my throat. Here I am without any intention and open to the world, yet I'm prejudged with deep mistrust. An all too familiar feeling. A feeling I grew up with.
Two encounters that couldn't be more different. The first touches me, but the second hits me to the core. A storm of emotions brews within me, so strong that my head seems about to burst. I continue walking along the shore, and after a while anger rises within me. This becomes rage and hatred. With it, thoughts I don't want to put into words. It is intense and turbulent. Within it lies the potential for destruction, for the anger I feel has the power to destroy. I feel sick and dizzy.