Various Vilifications

Nighttime on S41

The train rattles ahead through the night, past tightly packed concrete buildings covered in graffiti and the minuscule parks and soccer fields squeezed in between. Not to mention the maze of roads filled up to the limit with cars parking on the sidelines left and right. At this hour no-one even uses them safe for the occasional taxi or bus. With a soft turn to the right, a worn-down brick wall passes by that's covered in ferns and moss. Somebody spray-painted silver letters on there, spelling out FREEDOM FOR ROJAVA. As one does.

We slow down more and more and grind to a halt at a platform that's just as greasy and desolate as the car I'm sitting in. Navy blue signs placed in neat, regular intervals bear the name the train's voice announcement already called up some seconds ago. Neukölln.

I lean into my seat, hands folded behind the back of my head. Another half hour till I'm home, maybe. God knows, I need some sleep.

When I stare outside, there's only the usual mix of kebab places, bars, liquor stores, and Turkish supermarkets to greet me. Most of the latter already closed down, of course.

My gaze wanders around the car, and a young man with curly, black hair and a short beard enters. It's easy to see he's not from around here. And I'm the only other person in the car, so naturally he approaches me. It's one of those older model trains, where the cars are all still separated from each other instead of being fused into one, seemingly endless snake creeping around the city.

"Hey man, is this the train to Westkreuz?"

I nod. Leaving the city this late, is he? His suitcase would imply as much. He thanks me and sits down across from me. Which is odd, considering all the empty spots around us. Or so I'd think. I've encountered more bizarre sights in and around here of course.

"I'm Ricardo," he introduces himself.

"Where from?" I ask.

"Brazil. You?"

I give him a bit of an evasive answer, the best I can do. He seems okay with it.

"What brings you to Berlin, my friend?"

I scowl.

"Work."

Our train struggling in and out of Hermannstraße, we're both sufficiently content with staring out of the window for a while. I can be more talkative than this most times of course. I just had a long day. Still I decide to ease the awkward tension after a while.

"So you're just leaving? You look like it."

"I travel a lot lately," he explains. "I was only here for a few days. The day after tomorrow I already need to be in Amsterdam. I'm meeting a friend there."

"So what are you working on?"

"Oh, nothing. I just finished my university in the summer. And now I go around a bit. My friend, she only now arrives in Europe from South America, so I go to Amsterdam to pick her up." He flashes a grin. "We'll be going up and down Great Britain and France after that. Doing all that comes with it, you understand."

"Of course."

As we keep making our way west along the ring, I can't help but steal an occasional glance at this guy. He said he had a friend coming over, and it's a she. But does that mean girlfriend, or just girl friend? Probably best not to think about it for too long. I wouldn't mind some companionship in one way or another, but he's probably taken in one way or another.

"Can I ask you something?" he wonders, shaking me out of my thoughts.

"Huh? I mean...yeah, sure. Go ahead."