Stranded in Bayreuth

Its 0410, the bus arrives five minutes before the scheduled time and finally after the four hours 15 minutes drive, i am there, alive, kicking, refreshed, and happy to be there. Bayreuth is after all the place where i would work for that day. The enthusiasm of the adventure still punching my lungs but wait, i thought this would be a city and not a village?

In my shock i realize that i need to call my contact to drive me out of this cold morning, i make a call-no answer, i get mad at the third unanswered call. i am in the middle of nowhere-where is Bayreuth whose name i barely can pronounce? and on my first day-no- my first hours of the visit and its freaking cold early in this birds singing village i thought was a city-its summer time but so cold- i swear!

Its 0429 and i am thinking all sorts of things, for example i just realized that the bus station where i sit doesn’t look like its located somewhere in Germany. its so old covered with mabati at one end and so lost in a city without vehicles so for the avoidance of doubt i thought of naming it Namimbia bench-it looks Namimbian- the place where Germany left its identity sketch some years before scramble for independence began?

I also thought of documenting my distress by writing it down, so sitting on the namimbian bench i grab my note book and pen and what ensured is what you are walking through with me. By the way as i write this distress on my Spanish note book-which was a present why i only write nice and happy things even romantic one and now this!! this idea cripples my balls out  and now i miss Berlin. By the way sitting quietly in Bayreuth made me like Berlin more at-least in there i would seek an open kiosk or a donner kebab shop or something where i could go buy something and sit somewhere warm!

All this thoughts running through my infuriated mind, i recalled the nice conversation i had with this kid who sat besides me on the bus who lives somewhere near Alexander Platz -i now realize that we had a long chat but we never asked each others names! But i am to blame for not asking, the kid said he studies something to do with engineering and so i don’t expect an engineer to ask for names of people, he would be probably more interested with the names of metals, more an alloy freak and not an ally’s.

Its now 0442 and i shut my thoughts-i am not thinking of anything positive! I am mad at anything and everything.  Mad at the bud driver who could not get stuck in a traffic jam and delay us-damn his Schumacher skills!damn the silence in the city, damn the birds as they sing, damn that i have to work down there in an abandoned village or city-whatever! damn me for being punctual once in my life and the disgrace it faces and damn me more for if this silent city was a wild wild west city-then i would never live to tell the tale-so damn the tale i tell on my tucked tail!

I have made so many calls that even this welcome to Lyca machine girl seems to recognize my ordeal! her voice sound so sour in her sorrow-she seems to pity this poor lost soul. I need to make myself warm, i decide to leave the distress of this namimbian bench, i walk to this direction where a regional just passed by and bingo on one end is a big station, warmth calling plus a coffee shop! i should have walked here earlier but haithuru i walk in. Everything here is so expensive coffee is going for between 2:60 and 4:25, but somehow luckily i spot a 1:60-booom i go for it, mistake! i start looking for some sandwiches or wurst whatever..i spot one for 3:50 and order as my first order arrives-shit its coffee stucked in a cup smaller than what my niece uses to play mke nyumbani! Coffee expresso! expresso f****! i spend more than five euros on nothing that could make me warm than my anger! i burn in it and all the cold is somehow gone!

Being stranded here made me realize the real meaning of the word fuck- Because i am fucked up! fired up that i am fucked up and fucking stranded in the german mappers know where in a job to be whose contact shitty guy just has no clue that when a phone rings one has to answer-is it not the way it works or should someone answer after five hours like a telegram?

The only good thing about being stranded-and so i later came to learn, is you get to demand for a better pay for  services never rendered( those that you would have rendered instead of sitting in namimbian bench or getting defrauded by expresso?)-it might sound so capitalistic-which i have learn’t to despise by now, and i blame the western ideologists for it. But damn i was stranded, struck cold and defrauded in the west where money flows-doesnt it? Someone should kick ass and charge them more for it. come to think of it i will spend some of it on a crazy Berlin saturday night-if you see me dancing wild just remember the wild wild west paid the bills in absentia!



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