So my fascination with all things GDR and post- wall nostalgia (and I haven´t even been to Berlin yet) is warmly received here in the beautiful East of Germany. Nostalgia for the former east (Ostalgie) is alive and well, especially in rural Germany. From ugly mass housing, run-down bohemian neighbourhoods, to a unique, hat-wearing, happy looking green walking men on the pedestrian traffic lights, these things are all quirky, retro-trendy icons of GDR life.
But the most well-known representative of GDR-chic is the Trabant. For those who don´t know, the Trabant was East German communism´s answer to the Volkswagen (which actually meant "people´s car", this being like a red rag to a bull for the communists). The socialists were desperate to demonstrate their commitment to the convenience and well-being of their "loyal" citizens. They had to give them something to make them feel as though they, well, had something.
So the socialist gift to the people was...the Trabant. The body was plastic, the engine was a small two-stroke pollution-generating horror putting out 26 horsepower. And the looks...even in 1952 they looked awful. Even the good little socialists had to wait anything from 10 to 18 years from ordering to delivery.
I had been told by our city-dwelling friend Jana, some time ago, that Trabants were not to be found much more in daily use. My main chance of seeing one was in captivity. But since arriving in Dresden I have been lucky enough to see the ugly little socialist duckling in it's natural habitat a few times. At the train station in Dresden on Wednesday, I even saw a hotted-up one.
somebody found a good use for a TrabantOur beloved Claudi has thrown all kinds of surprises at us, from BMW´s to traditional German foods and an assortment if things that she knows we will like. She and her friends and family have gone above and beyond the "let´s just take them to some castles" approach, which is what we do in Australia- take the tourists to pat some kangaroos, and so on. Here, they have spoiled us with German life, whilst still being themselves.
All I have been able to offer Claudia in return is a B & W sketch of her (pre-chemotherapy, a look she prefers) and boyfriend Jörg, which I finished prior to our travels. At least it was well received, and I may be taking orders from various Germans...
Janet and JogyLast night (Thursday 6th Oct) she threw a big party with Hungarian Goulasch, real German wursts and good friends. The conversation degenerated into a laughing match over "proper" German and the much- taunted Saxon accent (which, I happen to think, is quite nice to listen to. So much softer than the "Hoch Deutsch") Claudi's best friend Janet gave the uncle (goulasch chef) a spirited ribbing over his "country" accent, likening it to some redneck hillbilly dialect. He reminded her that her more polished accent still sounds just as weird to Müncheners...
...And so it went. We were in love with this bunch.
Of course, I was a little late for the party. It was my last evening with the BMW, and I'd spotted a nice looking windy road between Seifersdorf and Dippoldiswalde during some earlier sightseeing around the string of little villages. And I had a few minutes to kill. And some kilometres to burn. Sheer driving pleasure indeed!
The Goulasch was making me coy...
Today, after the State Library visit, we went riding on Claudia´s showjumping horse, Sanny Day. She's named after a 70's Dutch Folk Singer... a piece of trivia which not even Claudia knew. Ha!!
The stables are down the road from her house, and the riding paddock out of town in the other direction. Rather than worry about trailers Claudi trotted off down the main street of Seifersdorf on Sanny leaving us to drive her car in pursuit.
Two girls reunitedProblem was, Claudia left the car keys hiding in a tack room somewhere. By the time she texted to tell us, she was long gone. It was all good fun driving around Seifersdorf looking for a lone woman on a horse.
The session made me appreciate how difficult a skill is horseriding, let alone jumping. But the less said about our riding the better- we really wanted to see Claudia ride. She has done one competition since her operation, but since has been rendered weaker through chemo. Notwithstanding, she rode and jumped Sanny, and it made us happy to see her happy. It seems to give her a boost of energy.
And, she´s not half bad at this showjumping thing either. Very impressive. Apparently Sanny Day, herself suffering from tumours, seemed to behave a lot better after Claudi's operation. It's almost as if she knew...
In any case, watching the big Sanny with little Claudi unleash a powerful racehorse gallop for a few minutes was magnificent. Those two clearly had a lot of catching up to do.
Me warming up the horse for Claudia.
Shortly afterwards Claudi, feeling a little drained, entrusted me with driving duties (!) for a visit to her Grandparents in Reinholdshain, another cute little village in the hills south of Dresden. It was much like a visit to anyone's grandparents- namely, being overfed with yummy cookies, cakes and coffee. They didn't speak any English which made the afternoon more fun. Her Grandpa builds little wooden pyramid ornaments, a well-known Christmas decoration. They're very elaborate. We received one a few months later when Claudi arrived in Australia- a thoughtful gift from the Grandparents.
The neighbours like model trainsShortly after that it was off to visit her riding buddy Henry, at his family's multi-million-Euro equestrian complex. It made me wish we had brought Naomi. Again, Claudi's number one love is Horses and she bounded through the complex like a gleeful little tour guide.
But this busy day was running out of hours, and clearly our dear Claudi had one more thing to squeeze in. Another little surprise for me, she said.
Sure enough, a few doors down from her house, a friend of her mum´s gave me a special audience with his Trabant. A mint-condition 1986 model, which of course is exactly the same in every possible respect to the 1952 model, right down to the plastic body, hardly-visible 2 stroke engine and frontal fuel tank, The owner was a genuine Trabant enthusiast. And, he was one of the lucky ones. It only took him 8 years for his Trabi to arrive after ordering.
Although Claudi did wish he would shut up for a bit...
It was dusk, but he actually let me drive it. After years of fascination from afar, I got to experience one of the most iconic symbols of recent European cold-war history first hand. A dream come true, thanks to wonderful friends. We bunnyhopped around narrow dirt lanes in the hills above Seifersdorf. Mr. Trabant, Claudia, Sharon and I squeezed into this little piece of nostalgia, squealing and giggling like children as I grappled the ridiculous column shift 3 speed.
I drove a Trabant. It was awful. I loved it.
