Night Activism Night One
Nightly activ: Tobias Yves Zintel, Andreas Liebmann, Employees of the little big Biomarket Ecofit, truck drivers, security people, laboratory employees of Mercedes Benz
Birds are howling. It is already bright outside. 25 past 5 am. Already at home. We did not last very long, though we also could not manage to stay longer. I first have to get used to the night work again. I am not particularly night active usually. Normally I sleep at night. This is why I am surprised, that it is already bright outside. The night itself was pretty calm, which explains the moments in which the calmness conveyed freedom. There is actual nightlife at the Biomarket. The workers endeavor in silence, however very efficient. It is not the right time, to give interviews about their long night shifts.
I visit every single room at the bio central market, they are all air conditioned, we sort of freeze. I take photographs of of Pineapples, Cabbage, Pears, piles, fork lifters and stapled eggs. With drive I open the insulation doors. At 1 am the first worker arrived – planning of logistics. At 2 am the first person in charge of re-arranging. At 3 am the first trucks came and left. They need to send out all the fresh goods. I am just standing around. They get me some Mango. Also some coffee. I am standing right in front of a printer, which prints out meter long orders. I leave the complex by the backdoor, standing in front of a gravel plant. I remember my first ever dream. I am sitting on a fork lifter. I am eating a tomato. I remember the time as a night guard at the homeless shelter place. I am standing in the forefront of a loading dock. I remember my refusal to go to the military, also my failed tries to find some actual legit work. The night. The vegetables. The army. The dream. The violence.
I worked for the homeless shelter place for around 4 years. The wage was alright. If there wasn’t anything today, I got to sleep at night. Sometimes someone riddled on the glas window front, in order to get in, sometimes they couldn’t pay, or occasionally they threw up. Everything had to be coordinated. The finished food from the local city kitchen had to be warmed up, the coffee had to be ready, and the buns be divided up. The one-legged, the one-armed, or even the chased, the lunatic, the noble, the humble and sometimes the guru. Everyone lived here. Long term, short term. At the beginning I was eager to get to know them all. Wanted to help. I looked them deep into their eyes and in their interesting destiny. Most of them did not think of their destiny being interesting, they rather had problems. No one was interested in my story. After 4 years I could not interest myself for their sake anymore. 2 years later I started to write a story about a night guard at a homeless shelter, who torches the place.
I managed to skip military service. I had a rough bicycle accident and as a result permanent headaches. After school, I always had to find my hammock and take a nap. The girl, I fell in love with, showed interest in someone else. The generals, which did the check up on me at the army shifted my entering to next year. My headaches were still there, I had to sleep permanently with a straw hat on. My neurologist predicted a life long full of headaches
In order to compensate my skipping of military service, I started working as a nurse at a hospital. I had to get up at 7 am. I disliked my uniform. I learned, that if you constantly lay on the same side with your body, wounds can develop. I got to know. how to roll people over to the other side in order to prevent wounding. I wanted to seek more knowledge. I learned, how to apply and use a syringe, even though I technically was not allowed to learn it yet. I seriously got tired of all the commands I had to follow. After 1 week I had a slight accident while playing football, which I immediately took as pretense to not spend anymore time at the hospital. Later, the insurance payed me a lot of money for my deficiency.
At the age of 16 years I started to work at a vegetable market. I enjoyed the refrigerator room. I cannot remember anything besides. With my earned money, I financed myself a visit in Torquay, England, where the boring English folks would have killed me once, if they would have known what I was up to. I still occasionally dream about the chase and final rescue by the police.
My first ever dream was about going on vacation. My sister wanted to join me, however she is not with me on the train. I get out of the train to get her. She is hiding behind a brick wall. I wanted to crawl beneath the wall, but a river undergoes it. I can only see one sandal which detaches in the water. The gravel behind the bio central market, which a giant truck releases like a waterfall, makes me remember that dream.
Tobias and me are saying farewell to the bio central market. It is not a big market. We walk through the whole industrial area towards Mercedes. A real industry! The river called Neckar seems so real. It is a real wholesale. Security. Security fences, workers. Mercedes is extremely important, which makes them have their own ship docking station, which is called the „Mercedes-Museum“. In 20 years onwards, the current industry will me history, if it doesn’t evolve. The business is not going too well for Mercedes, which makes them send all their cars to China, in order to pollute people there. Dolphins became extinct there only 5 years after. The British industry opened Japan forcefully to the whole world: the most essential harbor was besieged and shot at until Japan agreed to let them in. The investors, and with them their money wants to play, and if it is not allowed to play, they shoot.
AL 10.Juni 2014. – 06.10 Uhr
kuhlerampe 