The unknown traveller
Edited and commented by Frank S. Duby
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“I cannot tell you how great my pain is. I would like with all my heart to go where no man ever goes.”
“I am not able to give reasonable people some insight into this strange journey.”
Heinrich von Kleist
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Introduction
I preserve the past, the moment. Not everyone cares about that. My wife Olga thought I had taken leave of my senses after I wanted to give our love letters a piece of eternity by publishing them on the Internet. On her “advice”, however, I immediately deleted them shortly after.
The present is called fast-moving. Maybe it was the same after the Middle Ages or after the Renaissance. But letters were written then. They are often still in archives or museums. E-mails are printed out and filed away in the rarest cases; at most with business correspondence. But sometimes it happens. Good, if they fall into the hands of the right person; at least if they are outstanding documents.
Do you believe in coincidence? Certainly there is pure coincidence. A chain of events, with strange, terrible or beautiful consequences. But sometimes this coincidence is only a consequence of being prepared. What I passed by carelessly yesterday, attracts my attention today. I like to make new experiences. Thereby I help the coincidence on the jumps. So I buy unknown books, movies and CDs. In used CD-DVD-book stores or at flea markets. This has nothing to do with stinginess. Only I don’t want to buy a pig in a poke at full price all the time. And so I come to the coincidence that led me to the “unknown traveller”.
Maybe three years ago, at a flea market, I find the DVDs Wendy and Lucy and Silent Wedding, which I still haven’t watched. And a box full of negatives; the negatives neatly slid into negative sleeves. There’s not much to see on them. So I keep the box in the basement until I get a scanner that allows me to scan negatives. And yes: some printed e-mails were among them.
Frank S. Duby
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1. E-Mail
Finally a cafe with internet! You may know: You buy an “item” (a cup of coffee, a brownie …), for that you are allowed to surf for half an hour; that’s usually just enough for a longer e-mail.
No long prefaces. Barely in India … and already in the middle of the adventure. The day before yesterday I got into a mud hole with my walking boots; please don’t ask me how I did that. It just happened. Out of the mud, into the river, boots in the sun to dry. Yesterday I was therefore with my high heels on the road. But no one noticed!!!
So me at sunrise with extra wide CrazzzY GrrrL t-shirt and extra wide, long skirt on the way to a temple ruin. “Is quick and easy to get to”, according to my guidebook.
No temple far and wide, but more and more jungle … and … something soft under my shoe. No, on my shoe! My heels have perforated a snake: what a wild tugging and wriggling!
When I want to reach for a stick, a muskrat jumps at me and wants to get into my clothes. What else can I do but run (the rat is rabid like hell!). To avoid stumbling headlong into the thicket with the snake, I run … wide-legged. Too ridiculous!!! I’m not John Wayne!
After maybe 300 meters …. a (saving?) ditch and … a wildcat; I brake! The aggressive rat rushes between my legs. Don’t think … turn around … and back.
A short look behind … the wildcat and in front of it … the rat; that can’t be true … who should believe me?!
Is this going on forever …. gasp … groan …
… a bestial hissing … a tiger … ready to pounce … Alexandra … you are dreaming … (and if not?!). I turned around. Rat and wild cat are already on the run! If I overtake them, they are the prey, it rushes through my head.
Grabbing one shoe, I fling it off me (the snake clings to the other and hisses) and run for all I’m worth. But thanks to my long legs (and my fear) the rat is quickly overtaken; the wildcat I am close on my heels … .
I already believe to feel the breath of the tiger in my neck (that’s it then!), when the earth begins to shake.
But it can’t be an earthquake. … In front of us a dense cloud of dust, which quickly comes closer … Panic! A roaring and pounding … huge, dark figures … Jurassic Park?! Elephants, hundreds of elephants. The wildcat abruptly changes direction, I follow behind. In front of me now the wildcat, the muskrat and the tiger behind me. The wildcat and I overtake the muskrat; the rat can stop the elephants …
No! … like in a James Bond movie! … a river … a river full of crocodiles! The tiger to the right, the wildcat to the left – and I straight ahead … JUMP – like 007 – from one crocodile to the other, to the other bank … with the muskrat on my skirt. I must have lost the snake.
It’s good to have a Bond fan for a friend (he gets a stuffed flying rat from me).
You know, I have to go. Time is almost up. Do you know Coffeebeans? Those covered with chocolate!
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2. E-Mail
I wrote you that I wanted to lose weight on vacation; rusks and so on. Think! My diet plan looks like this: Three portions of everything. Don’t think I am excessive; the problem is: hospitality. If I refuse something, it means I don’t like it.
This takes on alarming dimensions: the first hole in my belt is getting closer and closer.
Of course, I do not submit to this fate; therefore: move a lot.
My day off (no program!). My plan: climb the highest mountain around here. Best I wear a headscarf, so as not to attract attention.
The mountain is probably rather a huge hill, but not to be underestimated. It is densely overgrown, especially in the lower part, and requires quite a bit of orientation.
I have a map, to eat, to drink … and my (clean and dry) boots.
On my way I sing to myself (no one hears me); it’s not too hot yet, colourful birds unknown to me chirp or nag, huge butterflies fly from flower to flower. Dewdrops glisten in the sun. I am well, very well.
The mountain (I’ll stick with mountain!). The map … city map of Ansbach.
How is that possible. The only explanation: the map from here is in Germany, but I had taken some other map with me: of Ansbach. That’s what happens when a woman always puts map to map and grabs the wrong one in a hurry.
I don’t feel like going back. But I am a trained ethnologist; I know how to help myself even under difficult conditions. You, as a sociologist, would surely have put the map away right away. Not me: a map is a map is a map …
I look for the station of Ansbach, there it is … and start my ascent from here. Important: count!
It goes straight … so I follow the main road! Fortunately, I’m alone … with my friend Gabi there would be real difficulties:
Me: 1, 2, 3, 4, …
Gabi: Hey, Alex, the boots make a chunky foot … what do you think?
Me: … 11, 12, … no Gabi, they look good on you … 18, 19, …
Gabi: yes, … but I don’t on them … I take them off …
Me: GABI, I don’t have the slightest desire, nor the strength to carry you back later … LEAVE THE SHOES ON … 27, 28, 29 …
The first junction; I record the counted steps along the straight line to the first junction and mark the junction with a squiggle.
Better safe than sorry … I also have to mark the real junction … preferably with a piece of cloth. I can’t use the headscarf, I don’t want to attract attention … so I have to sacrifice my socks. With my pocket knife I cut them professionally.
I continue … past the post office and the hospital …. and keep counting (just laugh: but once you’ve lost your way, it’s: if only I had …).
The turn-offs increase and my rags are used up. That’s what happens when a woman wears socks instead of real hiking stockings. The headscarf is taboo. T-shirt and pants have to remain untouched too: I can hardly get back to the hotel in torn clothes. I’m a professional, a female leather stocking, so to speak and not a reckless tourist
Yes but … I can not use my expensive designer-lingerie … besides … much fabric is not on it anyway … on the other hand … it can not be far … I grab the knife … and had tears in my eyes … so that it lasts long, I make tiny little scraps, each of which I weigh down with a stone, so they do not fly away.
The summit … and one last scrap, which I bury at the highest point. … And the sensation: according to the city map I have climbed the town hall of Ansbach … Ingenious … a great feeling.
The way back is no problem: past elementary school, hospital, post office … with counting, map and cloth markers as help very easy.
By the way, this e-mail contains a subtle hint what I would like to receive as a gift !!!
I just see, I have exceeded my time limit of half an hour; well …
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3. E-Mail
This can’t happen to you as a photo freak. It can happen to me, because I am none.
I got the camera just before I left; it belonged to a missionary who spent years in Africa. A long time ago.
Talking about the camera: the whole equipment consists of a tripod, a monster of a tripod and three suitcases. Camera and films, I was told: how many films might there be? A hundred packs, two hundred … for three weeks. Do I look like a raving reporter, just shooting the films through his camera … I shake my head.
But no time to think much. The whole stuff is brought to the airport by work colleagues.
On the plane, a boring movie is playing, the same old typical American love story. I can’t even laugh about it. So: how does it work with the camera? Out with the instruction manual!
After focusing, remove the focusing screen and insert a plate; but only with the aperture closed. But whoops … reminds me a hell of a silent movie, Buster Keaton or something! Are they kidding me?!
It gets even better: the shortest possible exposure time is in the minute range; what was that guy photographing in Africa? Extinct volcanoes?
Ouch!
Well, I let myself in for this completely new experience.
Arrived in my room, after shower and hot tea and palaver with my guests and the guests of the guests and their guests and after the evening program … thus sometime far after midnight, I open the mysterious suitcases, which come doubtless from a completely different epoch, and bring together, what belongs together. I wonder what time it is in Germany. I am wound up and not a bit tired.
The camera is on the tripod … both almost as big as I am … and I am, as you know, anything but a dwarf. And heavy is the stuff. Really ideal for snapshots and action photography, I think to myself.
A handheld light meter is included as an accessory. After half an hour, I know how it works. Pretty bright, isn’t it?!
Next day. The most beautiful morning. I am dog-tired. My eyes are so small that I hardly can see them in the mirror.
Big event: a solemn procession; no, not in my honour! Two attentive boys help me to bring the camera outside. Exposure time 10 minutes (insane!).
And it goes like this. I press the shutter button, the shutter opens. I watch my wristwatch. After ten minutes, I press the shutter again. The shutter closes again. Now I can remove the plate, label it, put it in the case and replace it with a new plate or with the ground glass.
This was my first photograph. More were to follow; but not hundreds. The suitcases contained large plates – and no 35 mm films; I had a total of forty plates with me.
Other subjects: Animals in the jungle – exposure time 20 minutes. Festivities in the community centre – exposure time 60 minutes. Visit to a monastery – exposure time 45 minutes.
Somehow I always had a bad feeling.
The best thing is: modern cameras can do 1/8000. Some of my guests could not believe that I come from an industrialized country; they had autofocus cameras from Japan – pocket size … and I had my assignment and special equipment. Probably the results will justify all my efforts. After all, a plate is bigger than a postcard; that must give top quality.
I won’t bore you further with details – not always someone could be found to carry my tripod – hence my backache. Once I almost came under fire, as they thought I was coming into the village with light artillery. That gave rise to much laughter; afterwards, in the evening. At first I thought, so, that’s it.
Back in Germany, I immediately took my plates to a laboratory. I should have guessed; 13×18 is too big to make slides from. And the plates were never meant for that. Buster Keaton didn’t know slides, I’d say.
Only solution: develop, make prints, and then beam them to the screen. With a beamer, which I have yet to get. A nightmare. I’m supposed to give my presentation in a week. They reassure me: no problem, we’ll hurry, it just costs a bit more. Then finally! I get the prints and a proper invoice.
It almost knocked me over. Imagine that: Only ghost images … I mean, ghost towns … no people, no animals … only motionless objects, houses, parked cars … as if a neutron bomb had hit.
What shall I tell about this: and here the busy market place, an unimaginable crowd, not comparable etc.?
First there would be silence and then no one could hold back from laughing and I am standing there, looking foolish, still having the whole lecture in front of me.
“There are also wild animals! Here I managed a snapshot of a bloodthirsty so and so” and all there is to see is a palm tree, a banana tree and a pond.
All the successes of the women’s movement would then be wiped out in one fell swoop: women and technology … well, there was no man … getting married instead of travelling the world. I tell you! I had suspected it: “The exposure times are so long, it makes your arm fall asleep. That can’t be good.”
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