World Chump - Wanderlust

It's a late March day in Frankfurt, Germany. According to the calendar, Spring is already here. You wouldn't know from the dark grey sky, the cold winds and temperatures hovering in the mid 40's. And it doesn't feel like Spring, either.

A visit to the local supermarket confirms what measures have been put into place in the city. In the parking garage, it appears that even the cars are complying with the social distance requirements, as there are several empty spaces separating each car. There are no shopping carts. To get one, you need to walk through the sliding doors and get one, no token or Euro piece needed, for obvious reasons. The less you touch anything around here, the better. 

There's a greeter at the door ensuring that everybody has a shopping cart, which is there to enforce the social distance of 1,50 meters. That's about five feet, and Germans don't need to be told twice. For the Germans, not necessarily known for being the warmest or most physical people on earth, the extra distance requested of them is not a big deal. Germans are the typical example of people who harbor plenty of affection but don't necessarily want the world to see it, especially on their sleeves. Hugs and kisses have their place, usually in songs and poems about Rome or Athens. In Frankfurt, the thought or the emoji will do, thank you...and maybe an extra hug when all of this is over with.

In the supermarket, people move quickly and with purpose. They are here to buy and not to shop. People are hesitant to stay in one place for too long. All of a sudden, there is no friendly conversation with the baker or the cheesemonger. Today it's business only. Don't touch anything unless you want to buy it. Keep your distance at the cashier. A few people are wearing surgeon masks, and people steal sideward glances at them as if looking at the masked people for too long might prompt a virus to jump at them after what can only be considered mild eye contact.

Outside, a U-Bahn, or subway train, coasts along the tracks heading north. There are no passengers on board, none at all, yet the train rattles on, almost defiantly. I watch three of these trains. Line 1 to Ginnheim, Line 3 to Bad Homburg and Line 8 to Heddernheim. The transit system's website has already announced that, beginning Monday, the trains' itineraries will be following Sunday's schedules, meaning services will be cut nearly in half. And I still doubt you will need that many busses or trains.

The busses are no different. One of the typically turquoise Frankfurt busses stops along the Eschenheimer Landstrasse, the doors open with a wheeze and close again. There are no passengers on the bus, either. Busses and trains are literally going through the motions here. 

The state of Hessen itself has 3,000 Coronavirus cases, not nearly as many as their neighbors to the south in Bavaria and Baden Württemberg, but the number keeps rising. Relief from Berlin is on the way, at least for people who have been laid off or might lose their jobs. Germany's economy, like every other, will take a hit. 

Germans are extremely effective at self-policing. A polite warning from a neighbor or even a stranger is usually sufficient for the person to mind his p's and q's, or in this case his umlauts. The last thing Germans want is any confrontation with the law. The single-minded collective goal is the flattening of the COVID-19 curve.

The parks, predictably, are still full. This seems to be the last refugee for citizens of Frankfurt. They can close playgrounds, but not the park. It almost seems like Frankfurt is a giant playground or theme park, only that nobody will come out to play. Even when the weather improves, people will stay inside...and ride the storm out.

The place: Grüneburg Park in Frankfurt, smack in the middle of the city.

Grüneburg Park has an ideal location. To the east is the Goethe University, a sprawling modern but distinctly urban campus. To the north is Dornbusch, the neighborhood where Anne Frank was born. To the south is downtown and to the west is Bockenheim, a fine neighborhood that splits the difference between the park's green setting and downtown's asphalt jungle.

At Grüneburg Park, I have probably run enough miles over the years to cover the distance between the Alps in the south of Germany to the North Sea. Here, my kids have spent hours with their boundless youthful energy on the playgrounds, or tossed the frisbee and picnicked with their parents. I have sat idly for many hours in the Korean Gardens just staring at the brook teeming with fish while stealing the occasional glance at the pagodas.

These days, the weather is perfect. High 60's, sunshine, but not too much of it. The park is packed with people. Runners, cyclists, people taking a walk or a stroll, pet lovers, human lovers, the elderly sitting on park benches...it's like a Seurat painting of the 21st century.

When people sneeze or cough these days, there is a quick nervous glance toward the source, then an almost embarrassed jerk of the head back to one's own private sphere. Last year, sneezing or coughing rang in the allergy season, a welcome tell-tale sign that winter was finally over. Today, a sneeze or cough is as loud as a bullet.

I have honestly never seen more people in Grüneburg Park. Part of it is the joy of an approaching spring, but let's face it: people know what is happening. People know that the ax can fall at any time and they will be ordered inside, to be caged like the animals at the Frankfurt Zoo. Best to catch those rays while you can. Bavaria, by area the largest state or Bundesland in Germany, has already ordered people to stay inside their homes. Saarland was the next state with a similar order. And in the very likely event that the so-called Coronavirus curve won't flatten, Berlin will need to lay down the law, although the states will probably have the final say. The much-publicized Corona parties organized by certain student bodies don't help...but neither do some of the elderly set in their ways and wandering about freely, blissfully ignorant of how a virus travels. It's really a wakeup call for everyone.

The other day, Angela Merkel talked to the nation, appealing to the nation's reason, almost the nation's sanity. People are beginning to talk about the biggest crisis since World War II. Joachim Löw, manager of the men's national soccer team and not necessarily known to be a source of wisdom, stated that the earth is defending itself against humanity. Luckily, people aren't politicizing the problem the way they, as humans, are capable of. The trouble is, they still are humans and wish to roam. The great indoors doesn't appeal to any human, regardless of nationality.

I will run in the park tomorrow. It might be the last time, for all I know, before the government shuts me down and I will have to hang up my sneakers for the common good. For the most part, I believe we'll overcome and modern medicine will prevail. But there is also one small part of me that wonders whether Spring will ever be the same again. 

Yesterday, I had to cancel a trip I had scheduled for Spain. The stops were going to be Malaga, Granada, Seville, and Jerez. Each one of those places is a formidable travel destination and would have made for good reading on this blog as well. That said, it seems meaningless in the grand scheme of things. Meaningless in the Age of Corona.

Like Jim Morrison said, strange days have tracked us down. Have they ever.

At the grocery market the other day, all the toilet paper was gone, wet wipes included. All the dry staple foods, gone. Rice, dry beans, other dry legumes...Auf Wiedersehen. The Germans, usually not prone to conspiracies or knee jerk reactions, are taking this pandemic seriously. Good idea. France has ordered people to stay indoors, Italy has quarantined the whole country. Belgium followed yesterday, Germany as the most populous state will follow in due time. You only need the right amount of infected people.

At first, there was a trickle here in Germany. a dozen cases, beware. A dozen turned to a hundred, then to a thousand. Then the dam burst and the first unthinkable event happened: soccer matches without fans. Not ideal, admittedly, and not a backbreaker, financially speaking. But the Frankfurt team here, long a beast in European soccer play, was suddenly without their fans and was whipped by an unimpressed Basel team from Switzerland. Now it's crowd control all the way.

Eventually, the whole Bundesliga was canceled. Now the European Cup 2020 is off the table and postponed until at least next year. Then came the order to close the restaurants and bars. That's the gastronomy and catering trade, so vital for tourism dollars, euros, and yen in countries like Germany, now treading water. Next, the British singer James Blunt played a concert in front of an empty audience at the famed Elbphilharmonie in Hamburg.

The government is discussing a financial bailout...for the whole country. Unlike the U.S., Germany has a public healthcare system that won't break the bank for the individual should somebody want to visit a doctor or a hospital. Unfortunately, that doesn't put any money into anyone's pockets, only working will. But I guess the government will be sensible about this. The banks were bailed out for carelessness and wreckless lending and spending...people here can expect the same, although they already wonder: will it go far enough? Will a depression follow a recession?

And then there is the long-forgotten tradition of controlling borders, of which Germany has many. I can't even remember the last time my passport was checked at a German border, although I have a strong suspicion it must have been in the 1980's sometime. Even so, the virus doesn't care about borders, flags, or race. The virus needs human bodies to survive. And with billions of people in the world now, the virus seems to have an ample buffet to choose from. We need to keep that in mind before we politicize the issue.

The pictures that come to mind are empty streets after the call to prayer that signals the end of the fast during Ramadan. On the flip side of the coin, there is the fictitious picture of empty streets in Death in Venice. Maybe I shouldn't be writing this.

There is talk of a vaccination, although even the most conservative estimates don't believe that it will be available until autumn. By then, we hope the dust will have settled and we can survey the damage without the mass hysteria...and just what we learned from it, if anything. 

After Italy and France, Germany is the one country in Europe with the most confirmed Coronavirus cases.

That, in itself, shouldn't be a surprise. For one, Germany is the country with the highest population in Europe. Add that to the fact that the European Union has an open border policy, and all German efficiency goes out the window when confronted with a very deadly, very contagious virus making the rounds. This virus obviously doesn't care about nationalities or borders.

At first, the Coronavirus was casually reported in the German news. China, Iran, oops, now it's hit Italy. What alarmed Germany more than anything was not the reality of the Coronavirus reaching Europe, or Italy, for that matter, but the rapidity with which it spread. And yet, there was still plenty of reason for a, typically German, measured optimism here in the land of engineers. Public announcements will do it. Common sense. Clean your hands. Hand sanitizer. Soap. And panic, if all of the above doesn't work.

After the first week of March 2020, there are over 900 confirmed cases of the Coronavirus here in Germany. I honestly don't know what will happen next. My kids go to an international school, an academically sound school, but still attended by kids, human kids, not robots who don't need to shower or ignore the fine print about hygiene, bacteria, etc. The first case hitting that school is not so much a question of if, but when.

The supermarkets already have sold out all hand sanitizers. Forget about masks (not that those are really useful). Those are gone, but, oddly enough, they are nowhere to be seen in Germany's alpha city. Just today, I took a trip around town with the kids, at all the public places. To the Hauptwache, to the airport, to the river, all places that attract crowds in this town the way only the Eintracht Football club does. For all I know, any one of us could have caught the Coronavirus by now.

And then there's the economic factor. Lufthansa has cut its flights in half, according to demand. Restaurants are reporting record cancellations, at the beginning of Spring, no less. Busses and U-Bahn trains are at less than half capacity. Neuschwanstein, the Disneyland inspired castle of King Ludwig II near Füssen in Bavaria, is reporting an all-time low for tourists despite knock off prices offered by the local hotels. The biggest fears are not so much directed at people, but at the economy. We must not allow this virus to paralyze the economy, says Economic Minister Altmeier. Small businesses will be granted immediate credit. Okay, then. As long as that is settled. The dozens of conventions that have been canceled shouldn't present that much of a problem, then.

Most cases in Germany have been reported in Nordrhein Westfalen, the most populated state in Germany. The first confirmed death was a 60-year-old man who had just returned from a vacation in Egypt. History suggests that a country like Germany is well equipped for a pandemic like the Coronavirus, but only time will tell.

The state of Hessen has 18 confirmed cases, with a rising trend, when you consider that the neighbors in Baden Württemberg have 116 cases, Bavaria 117, and Nordrhein Westfalen a whopping 346. Stay tuned, campers. If a virus would hit any city, it would stand to reason Frankfurt would be the place. Knock on wood...and immediately use the sanitizer.

Hanau is a mid-size city in Hesse of about 100,000 people, roughly 20 miles east of Frankfurt. From Frankfurt, you can hop on an S-Bahn (fast train) and get there within half an hour. Drive another five minutes, and you can cross the border into Bavaria.

Like most German towns, Hanau has a history that ranges back to the Middle Ages. Hanau has a history of attracting refugees. This is where the Protestants fled to from the Netherlands and France as far back as the 1500's. Hanau later became a stage for the Thirty Years' war in the 17th century and again in the 19th century for the Napoleonic Wars. During World War II, the Jews were vehemently persecuted and expelled, well before the war ended. Not surprisingly, Hanau has long been a hotbed for immigrants.

To be honest, I never thought much of Hanau. Certainly, this is the Gebrüder Grimm Stadt, or the Brothers Grimm City. The most famous sons of the city, born in the late 18th century, have their monument downtown, a bronze statue that has stood there since the late 19th century, which is impressive in itself. There is the Baroque Palace Schloss Philippsruhe that still stands there in all its stoic beauty. There's a wild animal park I visited once, mostly because of its hiking trails. Other than that, I have to admit I have always avoided Hanau, although for no particular reason.

Unfortunately, Hanau became the stage of the world for one day after an untimely shooting rampage committed by a German fanatic whose name I won't mention here. When all was said and done, the killer shot nine people, mostly of foreign descent, before shooting his mother and ending his own life.

So you think shooting rampages can't happen in Germany? I beg to differ. They can happen anywhere in the world, regardless of race, religion, or political convictions. All it takes is humans.

On February 19, 2020, at 10 p.m., Hanau was just another German city getting ready for the night. It started with a few shots in the street, seemingly at random, before the gunman found his way to a couple of shisha bars. Any theory that the killings were random went out the window just then. The gunman moved on to a newsstand...four more dead, all Germans with an immigrant background.

And what happens after crimes like these? Inevitably, you'll find the politicians with their usual lip service, led by President Frank Walter Steinmeier, Chancellor Merkel and the long line of local politicians seeking to pay their respects. The words may sound sincere, although I am beginning to doubt whether the message has sunk in.

To say the rampage in Hanau was an aberration would be misleading. The far right-wing party AfD (Alternative für Deutschland) is one of the fastest-growing political parties in Germany. According to which poll you would believe, at least 10% of all Germans would vote for AfD, if the federal elections were to be held tomorrow. Not enough to rule in any state, let alone the capital of Berlin, but the point is: the hate is there. And not likely to go anywhere soon.

There's nothing much to add here, really. I wish this wasn't a post on this blog, truly. However, I have always reported the events and tendencies as they have happened in Germany, and I have decided that Hanau deserves no exception. Owing to hate, Hanau will forever be etched in history for all of the wrong reasons. Let's hope the Germans draw the right consequences and use the event to save lives...from both firearms and political subversion. The whole world is watching.