Spain pt.3

This morning I got a temporary passport from a subdivision of the
german embassy which was, lucky me, situated not too far away from
where I am staying here in Spain.
Me and my brother took his car out there to get some kind of ID for
me and a new drivers license and some other papers for him.
Unfortunately we only got my temporary ID, all the stuff my brother
needs has to be applied for in Germany which is really stupid because
he lives in Spain and even has a spanish ID but since his license is
german... anyway welcome to the European Union... and of course it
costed us money - everything costs money when it comes to bureaucracy.
My brother was functioning as some kind of witness for my
identification but I never found out what happens if you don´t have a
brother to come along with you and no money to pay for the papers - I
just didn´t dare to ask more questions than necessary, something that
always happens to me at government offices. I guess the fear of the
power these people have makes me speechless and feel small. I don´t
think they would have denied my ID but I think they could have made
me run around for additional papers, copies of stuff from Germany or
even make me go to Madrid if they don´t like the way I act...
The trouble is not over yet, it will continue in Berlin but at least
I can leave the country again - by plane.

Lately and even before that incident I started thinking more and more
about identification. I mean who or what are we? and what or who
proves or determines these "facts" about our persona? I know this is
deep but basic philosophy and a really crucial question and I am not
going into further detail now but just stop for a second and look
into your passport and at those 2 lines on the back of the ID card -
height and colour of eyes. Do these 2 information along with a
completely unnatural and outdated photograph and maybe an easy to
fake fingerprint say anything about you or even prove who you are?
The colour of my eyes for example changes every season so my passport
sais: brown-green which is of course totally random... just like my
photograph which doesn´t really look like me at all anymore.
Thinking about identification also made me think about prejudices and
how we judge people based on their looks. Automatically I am myself
usually built up a pretty complete picture of a person at first
sight. I do leave room for surprises and I am of course able to
change that picture but deep down inside I know that this first idea
of someone manipulates and controls how we are going to interact with
each other and what kind of relationship develops beween us. I know
it is sad but I can´t help it. I could play dumb and try to look
through people but then it would look like I am not interested which
again could be understood as a judgement. So I am trying to cover up
this picture inside and patiently wait for the person to show me who
she or he is and I try not to judge because who am I to judge anyway?
I like reading people. It is actually fun to come up with theories of
their past and future and then learn during a conversation that you
have been completely wrong or even right in some rare cases. It is
like a hobby of mine and it passes the time when waiting for a train
and more important it doesn´t hurt anyone.
When it comes to me I kind of try to stay under the radar. I mostly
wear no name clothes or at least without visible brand names and I
change my style just like my mood changes. Sometimes my pants are
baggy and my shirts are tight and the next day it is the opposite. I
like to dress up one day and look like a hobo the next one. I have
always changed into some neutral clothes when leaving the painting
studio or put on a suit when moving out of apartments so I won´t look
like the things I am doing. I don´t wear a watch, no rings, no
necklaces and my phone is always in my pocket, mostly on vibration
because nowadays people judge you by your ringtone. I do have a few
tatoos visible sometimes but that was a conscious choice and I could
still cover them up if I really wanted to. A few month ago I grew a
full beard which often seems like a small wall to hide behind because
it covers up a lot of expressions. I am not sure if I am going to
keep it but I kind of like it and the different things it could stand
for which may or may not show my character. For the last few years I
always had a more or less normal haircut because at some point I told
myself that I don´t need a mohawk to be a punk.
I just shaved it all of. It seemed pretencious at some point and I
needed a change. I don´t know what´s next, all I know is that I am
not a big fan of all those signs and materialised traits of
character. These considerations, rules and expectations can be really
tiring when it comes to meeting people.
This past weekend I went to a music festival: Espantapita - a salsa,
reggae, rock, punk, electro mixture kind of thing. I wasn´t
interested in the music really I just wanted to camp on the beach
along and inbetween the spanish hippy punks. I really enjoyed being
there and eventhough I had no dreadlocks, no dog and no torn up
clothes I felt home and relaxed because I guess there is still a part
of me that wants to live their kind of life.

I am not sure if it was a coincidence but a couple of weeks ago I
started reading T.C. Boyle´s most recent book ´Talk Talk´ which I
finished 2 days before all my stuff got stolen. The book is about
identity theft and while I was reading I could feel the fear and rage
of the main characters and now I cannot only feel it - it is there
standing right in front of me laughing me in the face - it is real...
I want to finish with a quote from the book I am reading now: Yann
Martel - Schiffbruch mit Tiger (Shipwrecked with a tiger) - I have to
translate it from german into english, so please excuse all of my
mistakes : )
"... It is not easy to put these things into words. Because real
fear, the one that moves deeply, the kind of fear that we feel when
staring into the eye of death, nests into our memory like a rotten
gangrene: It rottens everything, even the words we are using when
speaking about it. One has to fight for these words. One has to fight
to pull this cancer into the light of words. Because if you don´t do
this, if you leave your fear in the wordless darkness or even manage
to forget about it, you open up for new attacks of the fear because
you never really wrestled / fought that enemy that once overcame
you." (end of Kapitel 56)