confirmation means, that church instruction is over, and the student has a so-called religious majority.
I have forgotten almost all memories of the time in the conf camp, But not the hour-long hike in the snow over a flue. First I went behind Dirk, then I went ahead of Dirk. The snow was knee high and hard, man sackte mit jedem Schritt in ihm ab und rutschte mit der Sohle auf dem glitschigen, freigelegten Gras.
Dirk had been wearing a black robe-like cape for several months, two huge crosses hung over his chest. Under the Beatles bob, completely covering his dark eyes, a malicious grin was cut across his face. But now Dirk wasn't grinning, but walked on footsteps, laborious and stoic, as is required of a Christian, when he is tested and his patience tested.
So was this endless hike in the snow a test for all that was to come?
I can't say about Dirk, since our ways quickly lost themselves after confirmation.
However, Dirk only wore espadrilles or fabric slippers on his feet, like Jesus, he probably didn't need a heavy profile,
to get through life.
This shoe got stuck in the snow with every step. Dirk pulled his bare right foot out of the mud, slid back with his left, feigning a little surprise.
Da ich übermüdet war, konnte ich nicht aufhören, laughing out loud the whole climb, and because Dirk did so, like he doesn't even notice, I laughed even more. And, man kann durchaus sagen, dass ich Dirk auslachte.
The pastor, who marched far ahead, did not notice, that we fell far behind, I the wicked and Dirk, the antichrist.
In class, the pastor always had a little white froth on his lips, when he got excited.
He liked the sheep best, die ihm artig zuhörten und seine Predigten inklusive seine eigenen moralischen Zugaben für fehlerlos hinnahmen.
I pestered him with many questions, which could not be answered ontologically, während Dirk hinter seinem Beatles-Fringe tat, als würde er seelenruhig schlafen.
I thought, that I can learn more from controversial people, than from flawless.
But a god, who neither died nor existed for me, I also wanted it flawless!
Dirk brought me to the well-behaved end-of-school theater for a song. Or the other way around, Dirk turned on the speakers, versorgte sein Bier beim Verstärker und schrummelte in aller Lautstärke einen Sound. Während sein Fuss (die Jesusschlarpe) den Takt schlug, ordnete er mich streng an, nicht etwa süss zu trällern, sondern zu laut krächzen:
Reality is here
You sit in a bar.
The tripp is over.
World ist wonderful.
STEIGERUNG”””””””
The tripp is over.
You can’t be happy.
You must hide.
You are so worry.
“””””””
GUITAR RIFF.
REPEAT.
Hardly anyone applauded. For me, practicing the musical surprise effect in the music cellar after school was one of the most pleasant memories of school.