Rolling in disbelieve

We are all without a citizenship right now.

Waiting for what might happen next.

The let us out.

 

A bunch of guys in civil clothes.

Walking outside a political prison.

Straight into a blue Kässbohrer bus.

 

East Berlin license plates.

I never sat in a Western bus.

Everything is clean and comfortable.

Original Kaessbohrer bus that was used to trade political prisoners from communist East Germany to West Germany. The license plate changed automatically from an East Berlin plate to a West Germany registered plate as soon as the bus crossed the border.

Original Kaessbohrer bus that was used to trade political prisoners from communist East Germany to West Germany. The license plate changed automatically from an East Berlin plate to a West Germany registered plate as soon as the bus crossed the border.

 

There is a strange mood among us.

Disbelieve mixes with fear and excitement.

16 months pass by me, my family, my friends, my home town.

 

Wolfgang Vogel, the key negotiator, lawyer who brokers the deals.

Right here in the bus, right next to my seat, put’s his hand on my shoulder:

“Na, Thieme, Christmas?!” - referring to that discussion I had in prison with lieutenant Kulas

 

I don’t believe my ears!

It’s all a big fucking game, isn’t it.

I’m glad he leaves the bus or I would jump at him.

 

There are two Stasi officers in civil clothing in the back and one in front.

Everything follows a plan, a process, a routine.

Rather fast, we take off.