City (de)tours and English lessons

24 June:
THREE UNUSUAL city tours are on my program.
1. A fleet of "Trabbis" (pet word for Trabant), those notorious yet oddly endearing people's cars without frills but plenty of gasoline fumes from the German Democratic Republic days, chauffeured by local actors, take us into the world of the old East. We shop for apple and plum pie at a bakery that has produced such goods since the old days under communism in a section of town that looks as if it's in a time warp. Finally, with a backdrop of tacky cookie-cutter subdivision of cheap townhouses (that look like something from the days before reunification but are in reality a not-so-flattering product of the new West) the chauffeur/actors serenade us with songs parodying those state-prescribed tunes of old, before jumping back into the drivers' seats roaring off, leaving us in a cloud of smoke. To the disappointment of one teenage tourist, we have to climb into a modern fleet of waiting taxis to make our way back into town.

2. An actor in medieval-style costume takes us on an unusual guided walking tour that touches on a few historical buildings off the usual tourist tracks, bantering with other characters placed in our way to the Marktkirche (market church) St. Marien. I had often gazed up at the bridge connecting its twin towers and didn't think I'd end up crossing that chasm, but here I am...

3. Finally a tour to a back alley "film set" shooting the purported assassination of Napoleon on his way to his ill-fated Russian campaign. It gave the extras/audience a humorously skewed look at Halle "history," more imagined than real.

25 June:
TODAY IS FILLED with English conversation. It begins with "Escalators," a program of "interventions" -- performances or media exhibits, installations and activities in locations not normally associated with such in-your-face art. These daytime events are held at venues that feature escalators and moving walkways, such as downtown shopping centres and the airport. One of the artists, Michelle Teran, is a Canadian media artist now based in Berlin. She gives me this digital video camera/monitor gadget that looks like an oversize portable CD player with antennas. I am encouraged to wander through the mall, recording the goings-on while at the same time receiving images of some of the 17 static cameras set up throughout the shopping centre as I pick up their transmission signals. The purpose of this exercise is to make us aware of the architecture of space and how we move through it -- part documentary filmmaking part video game, and Michelle records these live feeds produced both by us participants and her static video cams.

At another venue, a combination book and clothing department store, Chinese choreographer Yunna Long, dressed in a wedding-like dress festooned with clear balloons trailing in the air, dances up to and around store patrons and up and down escalators, mimicking the hectic movement of shoppers. Once she sheds her dress and leaves the sphere of passers-by, her dance -- performed partially behind a shadow screen on which are projected oriental images -- suddenly shifts from west to east, from hectic everyday life to sensual meditation.

During morning conversations at the breakfast table with my hotel's owner I offer to meet with her sons, 13 and 10, who would like to practice their English language skills. I am invited to their home for the afternoon, reading, listening and playing the card game "Uno." Her husband lends me a gadget that will allow me to wirelessly log onto the internet from any location, so I now won't have to move to another hotel but can keep the little room by the little roof garden for the remainder of my stay in Halle. Phew, what a relief! I really got to like this place. It's within ten minutes walking distance of the market square in the city centre. Besides, I enjoy the long conversations at the breakfast table with my genial host. She's a peach. Having to do the cleaning of the seven-room hotel after serving her guests she must be well organized, yet she's never in a hurry but always calm.

In the evening I meet with a group of adult English course students at an Irish pub. Last week I had passed by a language school shop window, opened the door and talked to the woman teaching local kindergarten teachers some children's songs. She immediately invited me to the final soirée of her adult students, held today of all times -- the semi-final soccer match of the European championship between Germany and Turkey. Hardly anybody on the streets this night, everybody crammed into pubs and cafés with wide-screen TVs, many festively decked out in the country's colours of black, red and gold.

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