First encounter with the West. Cologne, 1984

 

Cologne. Railway station

On the way to France, I had a change in Cologne, and I had to wait there for a train to Paris for almost the whole day, until late in the evening. The very phrase "West Germany" sounded scary for a person who had lived half his life in the USSR. Soviet propaganda did its job, and West Germany was associated with "neo-Nazis", with "Bonn militarists thirsting for revenge," and so on. Some strange and confused feeling I still felt, I must admit.

The train dragged slowly over the long bridge across the Rhine and stopped at the huge Cologne railway station. I unloaded my luggage and took it to left luggage room. And - went to see the city.

From the railway station there was a long pedestrian street (Hohe-Strasse), full of shops, restaurants and some establishments. In fact, it was the center of the city. Along this street-exhibition, I began to walk back and forth. I immediately wanted to find some signs of gay life. After all, we were told so much about the West, that “there are many” and that “such things are happening there” ...

I returned to the station. Toilet. To enter it you have to pay 1 mark (I had to pay, although for me it was considerable money). True, I noticed that some people were hanging around without going into the main toilet. I don’t remember how, but I met some faggot, already aged, or rather, without a certain age and without appearance at all. The German faggot was very interested in me, because I was Russian (exotic!), and immediately dragged me to the porn cinema to the hall for gays.

The porn itself did not attract me in any way - what is there to watch? - I went with this man just to learn something about this side of life. But in the darkness of the hall, the faggot immediately began to touch me (my crotch, of course). I removed his hand several times. The short session ended and we parted ways. Well, that's how they meet - at the main station and in porn cinemas.

Later, in the evening, I had the opportunity to observe a busier movement of faggots at the station. There was also a large beer hall, where they all went (I could not afford such a thing then, and I did not know how it was done and how much it cost). Actually, I did not expect anything from Germany. I saw enough of Germans back in Bulgaria, these here were the same. They are plump, with beer bellies and as if without faces. Only later, a few years later, I learned that, as elsewhere in the civilized West, active men, fuckers, are represented by southern peoples, immigrants. In Germany, mostly Turks. They know that they are in demand, and, as a rule, they fuck faggots for money or for some kind of benefits.

Square in front of the train station in Cologne:

Somehow I didn’t really like it in the West on the very first day. I felt that I was not needed here, that this was not mine. But I have pushed those thoughts aside for the time being. After all, there is Paris, France ahead. Maybe it's different there...

Here comes my night train to Paris. A compartiment for six people... All the same, I was somehow unhappy. Feeling like I'm doing something wrong. But there is no return, all the bridges were burned, it is necessary to do this "wrong thing". The train started moving.