Читать книгу Wanderlust: New Adventures in the Northern Sea - Katja Just - Страница 6

After almost twenty years living here, I can say that Hallig Hooge has become my home, my centre of life. I don’t want to leave! Although after so many years two hearts still beat in my chest. One for my home, Hallig Hooge, the other for my home, Munich. Sometimes I wonder whether the women who moved to a Hallig long before my time also felt the same way. Or was it just like that before? So normal that some women left their accustomed surroundings at a very young age? Without longing for home? No doubt they’d done everything right?

Of course, I’m not the first woman to have moved from afar to a Hallig. But in former times the circumstances were mostly different. I was 25 and moved to Hooge more or less of my own free will. Neither with a man at my side nor in search of one and fortunately not to be married according to my parents’ plan. I’ve gone to realign my life. Even though the plan was actually a different one.

In the past, it was not uncommon on the Halligen for young women from the mainland to take up a position on Hooge at the age of just 16 to work on a farm, help with the household or even take over the duties of a deceased housewife and mother. If you first ask the Hallig people, there are some exciting stories about Hallig women to learn. And especially about strong Hallig women. They’ve often been the driving force here. Captains and sailors were on the move for a long time. The women had to lead the house and the yard and make sure that during the absence of the men everything worked and continued to run. They were confident and strong. In most cases they had several children, parents who had to be cared for frequently in the house, harvest helpers on the farm, and it was necessary to take care of the running farm, which ensured survival, cows, sheep, chickens and other animals.

In the past, women often came from the mainland, sometimes even from distant foreign countries. Many a trail leads as far as Riga, which you can track down at the Hooge cemetery, for example. And each brought her own story with her, which she often carried quietly and quietly with her in addition to the everyday tasks in her new life, the life on the Hallig. There probably wasn’t time for homesickness. Sometimes I sink into the history of my house and try to understand how women used to live and work here.

Hedwig lived in my house until the end of the 1980s, but unfortunately I couldn’t get to know her in person because I always postponed a visit to her on the mainland. My parents often talked to her and invited her to Hooge. The two had only lived on Hooge for a few years, but had already renovated and redesigned some of the house at the end of the country. Apart from that, the previous owners of my parents, the successors of Hedwig and her husband, had restored the thatched roof as well as the old kitchen in the house. In our eyes, the house had become a piece of jewellery that gives us a glimpse of the old way of life, and thus today it is a piece of Hallig history. That’s what they wanted to show Hedwig.

When the old lady arrived at the Ockenswarft and could see the thatched roof from her car, she exclaimed in horror: “For heaven’s sake, what has become of my beautiful hard roof?”

My parents looked at each other in astonishment, because they had not expected this reaction at all. Suddenly there was a lot of energy in the little woman, who was seen to have more burden than joy in her past. At first glance it seemed introverted and inconspicuous. The hair gray and tightly tied together. Yet she was attentive. And the changes she noticed in her old house gave her a real boost of energy. When Hedwig saw the restored kitchen, i.e. the open fireplace where food was prepared and bread baked in the past, she was almost close to tears.

“How can you rebuild all those old things?” she asked without understanding. “Nobody wants that anymore!"

Despite the astonishment on their part and the disappointment at the failed surprise from my parents’ point of view, the three of them still had pleasant hours together before the old lady had to translate back to the mainland. Later, we realized why she felt that way. Hedwig has experienced and endured a lot in her life. The first husband killed in war, their children died during Hedwig’s escape to Germany. At the end of the 1940s she moved to the neighbour Hallig Langeneß, later she moved to Hooge. She married a second time, and both survived together the heavy storm tides of 1962 and 1976. A small farm provided her livelihood until she had to leave the Hallig soon after the death of her second husband. Until her own death a few years ago, she took care of her dependent daughter from her second marriage. She must have been an incredibly strong woman. Although I’ve never met her, my thoughts are often with her. Especially when I’m standing in front of the old kitchen making fire. Fire that always makes me feel at home in my house. Fire, which for Hedwig has certainly always been associated with work, cold and dirt.

And when I think of Hedwig, I can’t help thinking of Juliane too. A woman who lived on Hooge before Hedwig and whose suicide together with her husband still touches the hearts of the Hallig people today. They had to leave their homes and could not bear this. The love for her Hallig was stronger than anything. A woman who lived on Hooge for about fifty years, at a time when Hallig life was certainly anything but easy. At that time there was no electricity from the socket or running water from the tap. And yet it is said, especially of the women of these generations, that they were always sociable and cheerful in addition to all their duties and that they often attached great importance to their appearance. They liked to go dancing and were musical. Juliane, it is said, has always sung a lot, especially Frisian songs she liked. She is said to have had a bright, clear voice and to have been a small, lively woman.

There are so many impressive Hallig women - then as now. I wish they would put a special monument to their stories, their strength and also their names. These women have done an incredible amount of work and moved us. One more quiet, the other more obvious. They and their destinies should not be forgotten.

A few women from the present have already dealt with this idea. We’ve dug deep into the past, interviewed family members, picked out old photos, showered neighbors and contemporary witnesses with endless questions. Many interesting memories came together, which we talked about and discussed. In the second winter of our research work we met to record our results in a film. A member of our circle already had a lot of experience with such projects and put us in the limelight. However, this is not about us, the Hooge women of today, but about the women we reported about. With this, we have actually created a small treasure that has already been presented in a manageable circle. The time doesn’t seem ripe yet for this little treasure to become more, yet I have the hope that at some point it will be so far. Because I associate with this film much more than “just” the stories of interesting women from Hooges past. They all also give me a sense of connectedness. Not to say a feeling of home.

For whatever reason, all these women chose Hooge. They took up positions, they married in, they came to take a temporary job, or they were born here. And they stayed. At least as long as they could live their lives here. Financial or health reasons sometimes changed the actual plans and ideas. If I now draw a line to the Hallig women of the present, there are very similar or even identical situations. Some came for a job and fell in love. Others met a Halligman on the mainland and soon followed him back to his homeland. Others went away as Hallig children, lived their lives, but came back at some point again. The roots were already established or grew with time.

If I look at the Hallig women of today, they are all strong and self-confident women in my eyes as well. Whether married, widowed or single, they stand their ground. All of them, if they are over three years old, have experienced at least one storm surge, albeit not to the extent that they had to survive in the 1960s and 1970s. I have respect for the Hallig women, and I even admire some of them! For their patience in decades of marriage, for their strength after several miscarriages, for their courage not to give up, for their perseverance in their own business day in, day out, even at the proud age of mid seventy to be there for their guests or to reconcile renting, gastronomy and voluntary work. Even if the charm of many a Hallig lady can have a Frisian edge. Or sometimes it takes a few years for the ice to break. But when the time comes, or when women simply decide to pull something off together, then it also works on a factual level. Then it’s about the result. You can’t afford to be lazy on a Hallig. Not even a woman. And these traits gradually emerge through life on this island. At least that’s the way I feel about it. And this in turn can only happen if there is a connection with the lump of earth on which one lives, in this case the Hallig soil.

Herbert Grönemeyer sings about his homeland in one of his many profound songs. He says unequivocally: “Home is not a place, home is a feeling.” Another line reads, “Damned to succeed together.” And here he speaks of something of which we Hallig people can also sing a song. When we talk about “land under”, we are talking about storms and water masses that whip across Halligland and reduce our habitat to a minimum. We then talk about nature having the reins in its hands and we have to persevere on our terps. Yes, here we are doomed to success together. That connects. Sometimes with a human being, but definitely with the land on which we live and survive. In our case, with our terp and our Hallig. Perhaps it is precisely this unique moment of nature, which constitutes the special relationship between the Hallig people and their handful of earth in the sea, that represents the magic. Many people are always fascinated by the magic or just the charisma that surrounds a Hallig. Musicians, poets, thinkers and painters, but also representatives of the church are inspired by the Halligen again and again. Guests and holidaymakers again and again. They all come and go, sometimes they put down loads and worries here, they travel home inspired, fulfilled, animated and relaxed. But we, the Hallig people, we stay. Summer and winter. In the sunshine and under the land. We will look into how we can make our houses, our terps and the Halligland safer from the storms. Coastal protectors ensure that the sea, the voracious North Sea, cannot take over Halligland too quickly by partially lifting it stone by stone into the right position. So our Hallig shall continue to exist for a long time. This does not happen without outside help and support - no question! Nevertheless, I dare to say that the bond that exists between the Hallig people and their limited patch of land is something extraordinary, because we not only live on it, but also live with it. Even with the awareness that this could be over overnight. But probably in a hundred years at the latest. This deep connectedness can be felt. And that’s what I call home, even though I’m a newcomer. I perceive it again and again as soon as I take a moment and consciously look over the Hallig or walk. When I perceive the vastness of the never-ending horizon or hear the silence. When I walk over treasures from the past hidden in the seabed or when sparkling masters of the air rush over me. Therefore I make the assertion that home can very well also be a place.

The connection with the homeland Hooge seems to remain even if you have to leave our little island. Of course this happens again and again. Hallig residents move away for professional reasons or because they want to build a new life or family somewhere else. Like my friend Merit, whom I met on Hooge when she was still living here and I came to visit the Hallig. Now it’s the other way round: she has lived on the mainland for almost twenty years and I have lived on the Hallig. We had no contact for a few years, even became strangers. When she came to visit, we couldn’t find a wire to each other. It took a few years before we found each other again. Both our lives had changed, as had our perspectives. The latter often helps to see not only oneself in a new light, but also other people. Merit first had to leave the Hallig, her home, to see what it meant to me. Today she tells me I’m living the life she always wanted. She is one of the very few who feels the same love for Hallig as I do. Or vice versa! She can explain Hallig to me if I haven’t understood something yet or if I’m a little insecure. She encourages me when I doubt whether I’m accepted or not. She knows and above all knows what life on the Hallig feels like.

“For me in the past these were basically all aunts and uncles who rebuked me when I had once again eaten something up that wasn’t mine, but it was not always easy in this small community. Nothing was kept secret. But that doesn’t mean that everything was discussed openly. In the heart, the old Hoogers are a conspiratorial community because of their past. Strangers have always had a hard time getting in. That is still the case today,” she told me once.

Merit can understand that sometimes I doubt my acceptance, but she also says: “Whenever you have the feeling that people don’t like you or you don’t belong to them, it’s usually not meant the way it’s meant to be with you at that moment". When she explained this to me for the first time, an imaginary corset loosened on me that often constricted and paralyzed me. It was good to be told by a native Hoogerin that I had become an ambassador for her homeland. It filled my heart with pride.

I was all the more touched by a newspaper article in the local daily newspaper, which bore the title The Hallig Ambassador. I myself had never called myself that, even though I had already taken on the tasks of an ambassador for years. Only with my book did it become clear to me how much I represent the Halligen on the outside and how much I was spoken of as a representative. The journalist and author of the article clearly saw during our conversation how much I love the Hallig, and he managed to sum up my feelings wonderfully. Not without being nervous, I expected the appearance of the interview, because I feared in silence also negative reactions of the Hallig people. One could have felt this “title” for a newcomer also as presumptuous.

One morning a Hoog resident on the ferry in the car next to me was reading this very newspaper, and I could see while turning the pages that she was now devoting herself to my article. From my driver’s seat it was clearly visible that she had arrived at the side where my photo was emblazoned. The article went almost over a whole page, the photo took a quarter of it. After she finished reading, she put it down. She saw me and she came right at me. A stone fell from my heart when she illuminated me and congratulated me on this wonderful article.

“You really have become a Hallig ambassador,” she said.

From another lady I got a call with equally warm words. That was good, because I want to convey nothing else but my love for my adopted country, and I am happy to be able to draw awareness to the Halligen, their need for protection and uniqueness in this context.