Irmela picked us up at Tegel, airport of Berlin, in an orange Volkswagen Bus.

I immediately got a feeling of being captured in the backseat of some time machine by hippie people into hippie time in hippie land, but as we rolled into the former still greyish east Germany and the forest began to grow on us I knew we were travelling into the Grim land, the land of Hansel and Gretel and there would be a house built by brown ginger cakes and a witch, eine Hexe!, waiting for us and I had no bread crumps nor white small stones in my pocket.

But alas, the Grim brother disappeared and we arrived to the renovated building memorial Meyer Wittver Bau , a house telling other both dark and lighter stories from the past.

And the hippies, yes they all came back for a music gig lasting almost into midnight to for ever drown the sound of marching boots, Stiefeln or stöveltramp as we say in Sweden.

And just to bury them further more ( the ghosts of the warriors and evil) we all signed a paper committing us to fight for the human rights for all of us, even you with disabilities, the right to make both good and bad choices as drinking six beers the same evening.