Content
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Imprint
All rights of distribution, also through movies, radio and television, photomechanical reproduction, sound carrier, electronic medium and reprinting in excerpts are reserved.
© 2016 novum publishing
ISBN print edition: 978-3-95840-169-3
ISBN e-book: 978-3-95840-170-9
Translated from German into English by Karla Weller
Cover photo: Karla Weller
Coverdesign, layout & typesetting: novum publishing
Images: Karla Weller (14)
Quote
Only those who dare to go further than very far away will find out how far they can really go.
(Sergio Bambaren)
1
December 2013. An icy wind blew through Shanghai and made breathing the polluted air on the streets even more difficult and unpleasant. With every breath, it felt like being poisoned and you needed at least a cloth mask to force yourself to inhale, again and again.
How could people survive here in the first place? The traffic seemed to be an indefinable chaos; automobiles were honking everywhere, day and night. As a pedestrian, I was declared a target of absolutely every vehicle, whether with or without an engine, one, two or more wheels. Either way, everyone had more rights on the road than a regular person on foot. Small cars were presumed to give way to bigger cars, expensive cars took their right of way against beaters, and even if you thought you could cross the street in relative safety on a green light despite the rolling traffic, you still remained at risk of being run over by someone in a wheelchair.
I had traveled here with my husband – ironically so he could undergo Oxygen Therapy. A therapy that was offered in Germany as well, but at a price that was astronomically high in comparison with Shanghai rates. So, without further ado, we had bought two airline tickets, booked a hotel and off we went. Now we were about to find out whether two hours of pure oxygen could help improve someone’s health issues while breathing in polluted air for the rest of the day.
My friend Bianca had joined us for a week. She had to get out of her house for a while because living with her on/off fiancé had once again become unbearable. I welcomed her company since lots of things were just easier to handle in a group of three and moreover, walking around Old Town and quarreling with vendors there, was much more fun with her around.
Bianca usually stayed in bed until noon, while Gerd and I had breakfast in the dining room of the very well-kept hotel and then got ready for the treatment appointments. Gerd had to be at the clinic every day at one p. m. for his two-hour Oxygen Therapy so I had signed up for acupuncture and Chinese massage. Whenever Gerd’s condition allowed, we would take a taxi to the Bund or to Nanjing Road, one of the biggest shopping streets in the world. We also visited the Old Town where we haggled with the merchants over the price of chopsticks or simple wooden musical instruments.
Bianca always accompanied us on these excursions and, because her day started so late, she naturally didn’t want to return to the hotel with us as early. When Gerd got exhausted after less than an hour, she instead would go out on her own to explore the huge, glamorous malls, the exquisite designer stores that stood side-by-side, and also the shady alleys of Shanghai. And there were many of them. She bought stylish ensembles everywhere she went; here a sweater, there a piece of jewelry. She also often found something nice for her loved ones back home.
On one occasion she hadn’t returned by eleven at night and I began to worry about her. Of course I knew Bianca was a night owl and always found her way anywhere she went, but since most of the stores closed at ten and we happened to be, after all, in a city of millions, I slowly started to feel unsettled. Where could she be?
Just before midnight, she scurried into our shared hotel room; I could see that her heart was pounding. Happy and excited, she told us about what she had experienced, while strolling in the Xu Jia Hui shopping area. Beaming with joy, she suddenly held out a Prada bag she had just bought for me! Sinfully expensive, but just good enough for her best friend, she remarked!
Between doctor’s appointments and adventurous shopping, we had to check our emails once in a while, and that’s when it appeared; the newsletter from Jeanne Ruland, with a notice that she would be offering a seminar trip to Hawaii in August. Spontaneously I knew: I had to go there! So I instantly registered to participate although, at that time, there wasn’t even a list of applicants yet.
When my friend found out, she just said, “Hawaii is totally my thing. I’ve been thinking about traveling to the islands for a long time already, so I should definitely go with you!” Said and done; two registrations for the trip to Hawaii were sent from Shanghai to Germany. And why not? The month of August was vacation time anyway, so it should easily be reconcilable with work. But for Bianca, it was more than the mere thought of taking a vacation to Hawaii. Instead, she was dreaming of getting married on the beautiful island. So this was a great opportunity to check out the conditions in person and plan a wedding there! She was hoping for a ceremony right on the beach, wearing a gossamer white dress that ripples in the wind, with a wreath of flowers around her neck and bare feet in the warm sand.
Nearly eight months later the time had come and the four of us were on a plane to Hawaii. Only our shared seminar/self-discovery trip had become a “family vacation” because Bianca’s sixteen-year-old son Max and her fiancé Roland spontaneously decided to accompany us, for whatever reason I honestly wouldn’t know. But Bianca explained, Roland was going there to golf and therefore they couldn’t possibly leave Max home alone for three weeks in a row.
The fact that we even made it to the flight on time was a small miracle because the day before, our travel agent called to tell Roland there was a storm in Hawaii and no flights would be departing for Big Island until the following Wednesday. I was just about to leave for Munich by train when Roland passed the information on to me, but I couldn’t and wouldn’t accept any obstacles so I decided to start my trip anyway.
After all, the flight from Munich via Frankfurt to San Francisco was still scheduled and, if I had to, I could spend a few nice days in California. I had wanted to go there for the longest time, so fate accommodated me quite nicely in the form of a storm in Hawaii.
As I checked my travel documents one last time, I suddenly realized, I didn’t even let my mother know. In fact, I did not tell anybody I was going away for three weeks. Why? Was I afraid they might talk me out of it? Or did I just not want to have to justify myself to everyone? Damn it! I was an adult after all and didn’t need anyone’s approval! But maybe it would have been prudent to say goodbye? So I instantly dialed my mother’s number. “Mom, I just wanted to say that I am flying to Hawaii now. My train leaves in 20 minutes. I will be back in three weeks. Take care!” So, that had been taken care of. Now, who would take me to the train station?
When I arrived in Munich punctually on Friday afternoon, my friend Bianca wasn’t there. She had insisted on picking me up at the train station, but now urgently had to buy elastic compression socks with frequent-flyer Roland at seven in the evening. There simply hadn’t been enough time running chores in the past few days. So I took the tram to Bianca’s, where Max had been given instructions to