Michaela Merz

Noise

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640581_web_r_b_by_andreas-morlok_pixelio-deIf someone pelts you with polysterene beads, plastic bags or soft toys, it is probably treated as a harassment and punished with God only knows what.

But if one is harassed by noise, it is often ignored. I remember well many years ago when in a small village we wanted to celebrate August 1. When it was finally dark, we started the fireworks. We hadn’t even reached half way, and then Willy stood before us and shouted at us. He had to go to work and get up the next day very early and wanted finally to get to sleep. After all these years I can still remember how ashamed I felt. At home it was drummed into me that my freedom extended only as far as someone’s else’s freedom was affected. We immediately stopped the fireworks.

 

 

Where I now live, when it is warm, there are very often wild parties. I can live with wild parties, but less with the deafening noise. Then I always ask myself where have those who party during the night.left their consideration for others. Today there are no more parties with guitars and singing. Amplifiers are brought along and the whole area is blasted with sound.

In the neighbourhood there was a squatted house. Wild parties permanently. But the worst of all was the last one before the house was demolished. Nearly a 100 people crammed into the small house. They were everywhere, it was extremely noisy. The police arrived because of the many complaints about the noise and then left again. The party lasted all day and all night and I slept with windows closed and earplugs. A week later the neighbour told me that he got up at 3.00 am, because on account of the noise he could not sleep and drove to his office so that he could get at least three hours sleep. I shivered. My neighbour is a surgeon and operates frequently. I have great confidence in him, in his skills, but that day I would not have liked to lie on the operating table under his hands and sleepless eyes.

My last flight to Asia felt more like the evacuation of a nursery. Small children were about a quarter of all the passengers. And that is what is looked like. Constant laughing, shouting and crying. Despite earplugs sleep or relaxation were out of the question. It was torture, in which not even the headphones could really help. I arrived broken. The next day work was out of the question, because my head could not think straight.

Image source: Andreas Morlok  / pixelio.de

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