Carmen Paul - Horse´s Hoof and Heaven

I was so flabbergasted by this onslaught of abuse that a thousand things went through my mind, most of all the fact that I’d left my picnic breakfast for the day behind at home! The policeman issued me with an on the spot 20 Mark fine for having taken a short cut over the road junction; as it was not permitted under any circumstances.

I had to take seriously the fact that he was in a position to send me to jail, not because of my infringement of the traffic regulations, but because of the offending sticker; however much worse than that was having left my breakfast behind! I shoved the 20 Marks into his hand. This was a lot of money to me, enough for a month’s rent, or indeed what it would cost for half a pound of coffee (not readily available in the former East Germany, and thus expensive). Then I took off the offending raincoat, handing it over to him with a sarcastic laugh (“have fun with it”) – turning again to the road junction I proceeded to slink back over it diagonally as I’d done before, in order to fetch my picnic breakfast from home !

On my return I took a different route to get to the bus stop – one could never tell what would happen.

The qualifying exam in gym shorts

At last the day of the qualifying exam came round; I thought “that will be the end of that”. On that day I dressed in my blue shirt (standard uniform for the youth pioneers), and jeans (Levi’s which were standard issue from West Germany) and set off for the training college. I decided to wear gym shorts underneath my jeans just in case, which turned out to be a wise move. One of the teachers there noticed my jeans, and couldn’t believe what he was witnessing. How dare I turn up in capitalist jeans for an exam for the communist system, and what’s more, coupled with a bright blue pioneer shirt!(that colour match was in any case an eyesore, but that wasn’t the point then).

The college director was summoned, and I had to undergo another torrent of abuse. “Of all days to do this!” The pair of them were utterly at one in this case – I should go back home immediately and change, come back and then I would be allowed to sit the qualifying exam.

I looked both of them in the eye, and then simply burst out laughing, unable to help it. At that precise moment I saw right through it all, this ridiculous communist system, with this teacher utterly taken in by it, and proceeded to take off my trousers right in front of them both. I asked them to take good care of my jeans and went back to my exam place wearing my pioneer shirt and gym shorts. After the exam was over, I collected my jeans from the teacher, and proceeded to wear them again. Then it was the shirt’s turn; “I don’t need this anymore; you can wear it yourself”!

Of course, I realised by now that my dream career of becoming a vet was not going to happen. I felt that my undying devotion to this “faithful workers and farmers” state had radically changed into pure hatred for the regime. I had to discipline myself in order that this wouldn’t spill out into open rebellion.

After this exam I worked in a milking station in Herwigsdorf. A milking station is an enormous technically equipped up to date barn where the cows were systematically milked. We did not work split shifts there, but either the early morning shift or the late afternoon one.

My two favourite work colleagues

It took me a while to come to terms with the fact that I wouldn’t be able to “make animals better”, however I swore to myself that it would be better to be honest with myself as opposed to living out a permanent lie. This motto helped me through this inward pain I felt.

I managed to retain a lot of what I had learnt from Mrs Doctor. Looking back it was a gratifying time, and although I wasn’t allowed to pursue my desire to be a vet as a career, I am still able to apply what I learnt in a practical sense. My love for animals has not diminished, and still having some skill to this day means that I can apply self-help when problems arise.

In Herwigsdorf I had some nice work colleagues, but two of them stood out in particular as being special to me. One of them was Christine, who started her job two years after I did; we went through thick and thin together and she is still one of my best friends today.

Christine was brought up in a communist household, but this was somehow different from the other communist families I knew. I found it fascinating just how she spoke out against injustice, although sometimes being too forthright and loud, but this is exactly what I liked about her.

The people I know who on the one hand stand by their ideology, but on the other hand are so kind and caring are few in number. Communism is to some a kind of ‘raison d’être’, being practiced as assiduously as any religious faith, but one which was doomed to failure, as the world over has witnessed within the past thirty years. Both of us have managed to tolerate our very different ‘beliefs’ to this day, without one of us wanting to win over the other or somehow consider one or other of them as being somehow superior.

Oh how much I desire Christine to discover the love of Jesus for herself – I’m still hopeful for that!

A tug of war

The other lady I got to know in Herwigsdorf who played a very important role in my life was called Hanna. Hanna was a boisterous lady, but somehow completely different from the others. Hanna expressed herself well to encourage or rebuke anyone or even show that she liked you. She was extremely patient and displayed an inbred humility that made me ask myself what she had which others plainly didn’t have.

She was the kind of person who could hold your hand without saying anything and one would be simply feel her warmth. She had a hearty laugh, likewise inviting you to join in even if you didn’t feel like it.

And Hanna had perseverance! For nearly a year she would invite me to her Bible evenings, and for nearly a year I would issue her with a various excuses why I was unable to attend, but feeling like a fish swimming around in a shallow net. However, in this particular year I was the object of a tug of war – on the one end was Hanna with her ongoing invitations to come to her Bible group, at the other end was the local communist secretary urging me every week to return to wearing my pioneer’s blue shirt, even tempting me with membership of the SED (the main communist party).

Becoming a member of the official communist party was not exactly a foregone conclusion. One needed two members of the communist party to vouch for my ‘impeccable’ character, and then after a trial year one’s membership of the party would be decided upon, either receiving an offer, or being rejected. What I simply couldn’t grasp was just how this communist official could ever have perceived that I would change my mind!

Disgraceful

This constant tug of war finally brought me to the point of accepting Hanna’s offer. Hanna explained to me that this particular evening would be special, hosting a prominent guest, Pastor Morgenstern from the Brotherhood of the Moravian Church. Well, I thought to myself “I’ll go just once, then I’ll be able to tell my friend Hanna that it wasn’t my cup of tea” – who on earth could possibly believe in all that hocus-pocus anyway !

It transpired that Hanna had also invited another of my work colleagues along, likewise having gone on and on at her, so we made a pact: the two of us would just get it over and done with for once and for all. It was a bitterly cold evening, but the Heinz family had heated their lounge especially for the occasion, and we were well received on arrival. Looking around there seemed to be exclusively old ladies there, apart from Hanna and her sister Ursel, the manager of the milking parlour which we worked in, and us two. The four of us were the youngest there that evening by a long way.