Ethnic Relations on the Baltic Sea Coast

Jude had lived in his little Baltic Sea apartment (Ostsee Ferienwohnung) for longer than he cared remember. He was born in a house close to where he lived now, and had never ventured far from his home town, much less the streets where he grew up. Now in his seventies, Jude was happy to see out the rest of his life in his little one bedroom home, with the birds nesting in the tree outside his kitchen window his daily visitors. His routine was punctuated by a monthly visit from his son, who lived several hours away, but it was not something he looked forward to, so he endured their autistic son and the ministrations of his daughter in law, sighing with relief as they left in their oversized SUV.

Of late, Jude had noticed the old neighbourhood changing. Of course his home had been demolished many years ago to build the new supermarket, but closer to his apartment he had begun to see changes that he wasn’t sure he liked. People had begun to move into the area, and his morning walks to fetch the newspaper were increasingly seeing him find new shops opening and old ones closing. The last straw came when ‘his’ newsagency sold to one of the new people. Foreign magazines and newspapers and foreign food filtered in, and Jude had more and more trouble finding his newspaper, which had been relegated to the bottom row of the shelves. He could barely understand the new owner, and their funny ways were confusing. He even considered forgoing his morning walk, but wondered what he would do in its place.

Then he noticed the new owner attempting to talk to him. At first, his language was halting, and he got a lot of the words wrong. Jude laughed at him, but not in a nasty way, and the new owner laughed with him. After a few weeks, they could hold a conversation – albeit stunted and populated with laughs and back-slapping. And Jude found he liked the new owner. He was funny; his background was harsh – he truly loved his new country and hoped to bring his sister and his wife soon, to escape the brutalities of his old country.

Jude looked forward to his morning walks, and they began to take longer and longer as his visits to the newsagency extended to coffee and then morning tea, and finally lunch.

One day, Jude walked into the newsagency and found Tomas was not there. In his place behind the register was a lady, modestly dressed and who spoke better than Tomas did when he first arrived. Jude, in a panic, asked the lady where Tomas was.

In a voice that went straight to his heart, she told Jude that Tomas had a week off, and was spending it in a Rügen hotel – his first time off in the 12 months he had been in his new country. She introduced herself as his sister, Sofia. She arrived two days ago, and was helping Tomas run his store. Sofia looked to be in her late sixties, and Jude looked for a wedding ring. There wasn’t even a mark where one might have been. Sofia’s eyes twinkled, and Jude smiled.