Gregor Vukasinovič
Nobody Knows
Pretty as it may be, Schuld is not the place where a whole lot of tourists ever showed up. There are some, as is testified by the presence of a handful of hotels, but it is still a bit off the beaten track. It's not Ahrweiler with its historic downtown, nor Altenahr, which apparently consists of 90% hotels and gastronomy. The railway doesn't come up here, and the main road from the Rhine and the big cities toward the Nürburgring also branches off the Ahr before it reaches Schuld.
Yet, the flood wasn't the first time I had heard of this village. Some others I've read on the map before, last but not least by virtue of having a train station. Like Rech, Dernau and the like. If it wasn't for that, I'd probably not known they exist, just like Insul or Antweiler. Yet from Schuld, distant as it may be, I even knew somebody at one point. Someone I went to school with came from here. Very kind and gentle guy, kept making jokes how this place is so small and insignificant, nobody knows it. It was one of those inverse deja-vu moments as I'd like to call them. When you hear something, read a story, and it's not so much like you heard it before, but there's something inside you that already knows you will hear that again. Maybe sooner, maybe later, but the day will come. And it will be important, thus it sticks in your mind.
That day eventually came in July 2021. On top of the ongoing pandemic, which felt like the end of the world in its own right at the time, to me anyway. And it came at the same time so many things I first heard back then became relevant once again. There's a reason this disaster has become so extremely symbolic for me in a variety of ways. No matter how much rebuilding you do, no matter how many years pass, what is now can never be explained if those months and years aren't also mentioned. Curse them or praise them much as you want, but you won't explain them away.
Traveling these regions now, you see a mishmash of destruction and ruins, professional and makeshift repairs, normal everyday life, and also the occasional thing being bigger and better than they ever could have dreamt to become otherwise. I think it was Katniss who put it best: "It takes ten times longer to put yourself back together than it does to fall apart." Or, sometimes closer to a hundred times, and some will not make it there at all. And often, putting yourself back together the way you once were isn't even the ideal outcome. It's like trying to walk in your old shoes you've grown out of. Sometimes the only options are buying the same style but bigger, or a completely different one. And it probably won't hurt to have both in your closet.
Nobody Knows
Pretty as it may be, Schuld is not the place where a whole lot of tourists ever showed up. There are some, as is testified by the presence of a handful of hotels, but it is still a bit off the beaten track. It's not Ahrweiler with its historic downtown, nor Altenahr, which apparently consists of 90% hotels and gastronomy. The railway doesn't come up here, and the main road from the Rhine and the big cities toward the Nürburgring also branches off the Ahr before it reaches Schuld.
Yet, the flood wasn't the first time I had heard of this village. Some others I've read on the map before, last but not least by virtue of having a train station. Like Rech, Dernau and the like. If it wasn't for that, I'd probably not known they exist, just like Insul or Antweiler. Yet from Schuld, distant as it may be, I even knew somebody at one point. Someone I went to school with came from here. Very kind and gentle guy, kept making jokes how this place is so small and insignificant, nobody knows it. It was one of those inverse deja-vu moments as I'd like to call them. When you hear something, read a story, and it's not so much like you heard it before, but there's something inside you that already knows you will hear that again. Maybe sooner, maybe later, but the day will come. And it will be important, thus it sticks in your mind.
That day eventually came in July 2021. On top of the ongoing pandemic, which felt like the end of the world in its own right at the time, to me anyway. And it came at the same time so many things I first heard back then became relevant once again. There's a reason this disaster has become so extremely symbolic for me in a variety of ways. No matter how much rebuilding you do, no matter how many years pass, what is now can never be explained if those months and years aren't also mentioned. Curse them or praise them much as you want, but you won't explain them away.
Traveling these regions now, you see a mishmash of destruction and ruins, professional and makeshift repairs, normal everyday life, and also the occasional thing being bigger and better than they ever could have dreamt to become otherwise. I think it was Katniss who put it best: "It takes ten times longer to put yourself back together than it does to fall apart." Or, sometimes closer to a hundred times, and some will not make it there at all. And often, putting yourself back together the way you once were isn't even the ideal outcome. It's like trying to walk in your old shoes you've grown out of. Sometimes the only options are buying the same style but bigger, or a completely different one. And it probably won't hurt to have both in your closet.