As I studied German and English literature in order to become a teacher, I sometimes cannot help but wonder why my life led me into the profession of a security guard, teaching me to raise my fists up and staring things straight in the face instead of beating around the bush.
Let me first express my gratitude to the man of my heart, Rev. Sun Myung Moon, because he is a forgiver and on the same wavelength as a Catholic poet who I much admire, Reinhold Schneider. Schneider wrote something like: “I learned the best things in life from my enemies.”
Because I grew up with my grandmother and her three daughters, I became oversensitive in life, a freak, very far from being the “Real Man” we used to sing about in CARP.
My life had turned into a catastrophe; I became self-destructive, in the wake of my rock and roll idols. When Rev. Moon matched me to a Brazilian factory worker, he seemed to tell me in plain language: “Buddy, you’re a dreamer, so you need a hard-working wife, otherwise you will starve.” You know how arrogant students can be, heads deep in books, mistaking themselves for another Dostoevsky or whoever. In reality, they often live in an ivory tower, estranged from life.
When German unification came in 1989, sentimental pictures, cries of hurrah, brotherhood in action could be seen on TV and the mass media. Everybody was hysterically joyful, having experienced the walls of Jericho tumbling down just like in the Old Testament.
I felt bored in the West and decided to become a teacher in Brandenburg, surrounded by the old structures of the GDR. My project sank like the Titanic, but I felt so sorry that I could not befriend those people who resented me and prayed for them. I gave all my books away as presents before I left.
Back in West Germany, all those guys you really didn’t want to meet came over, tough guys who were soldiers, spies, Stasi (East German State Security) people, and rather well-prepared, they took over the jobs in the security industry, ready to rumble. What did I learn from them? I learned to work 12 hours shifts non-stop for the last 20 years, living between madness and desperation. My wife, however, stuck it out with me. It takes a Messiah to spot such a woman; I for sure would not have been able to look into the deep and find her.