September 2021



So everyday that I’ve gone from Weimar to Jena and walked to my office, I’ve walked through what I’ve assumed is an old abandoned train yard complete with a station in the middle of it.

The place is covered in graffiti. Tons and tons of graffiti, some of it good, most of it, like graffiti in the United States, incomprehensible and ugly as sin. I also see people who look like they’re living there-and I’ve assumed that they do live there-in the abandoned train cars or inside the old train station.

I’ve never really thought much about it. I’d never been there at an hour when I would see any signs of life that would actively suggest there’s a club in the building.

I mean there have been small clues that I might be wrong-DHL making deliveries and a beer truck backing up to the door with bottles of beer, but I just assumed that the people living there got packages like the rest of us and also happened to drink a lot of beer – a whole lot of beer.

What do you expect from people who look like hippies living rent free off the state? Of course they’re drunks!

But it turns out that my assumptions were wildly wrong-the place is a club-Kassablanca! (Which, by the way, in a dumb moment, it was referred to in the short hand as “kassa” in chat, and when I searched for it on the web, I went with “Casablanca,” which yielded nothing. Dumb me.)

There’s no sign or anything indicating what is inside, it’s just is a club-with a cool atmosphere-although I have to -confess I don’t really like “finest r&n&b – hip hop – funk” that was playing-but I was stunned. I never knew- nobody had told me what it was and I guess I had never really verbalized my assumptions about the place with anybody who actually knew what was there!

I feel like a fool.

And like I’ve been let in on a neat secret.

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