20th july 2007 - silistra

in the morning i accept, gnashing my teeth, playing in front of the three-level terrace of the hotel on the bank. in the interest of peace, i abandon my chosen place (500m upstream) under the condition that the terrace is cleared of tables, chairs and parasols and is made accessible to the general public. the owner of the hotel, a certain raichev, also proprietor of the local sausage and meat factory and according to the ambassador, a "great friend of austria", has sovereign power in silistra. not even the mayor or the police can rectify this. the discussions make me furious. the whole thing stinks to high heaven. but the anger has energised me and torn me from the heat paralysis that has been enveloping me for a week. it's as though i'm going through the day with my sword drawn. how am i to sing and play like this? my roma friends are also taken aback by my transformation from dr jekyll to mr hyde. they remind me in a way of my tibetan friends, they are so gentle and free from aggression. in the afternoon i start a rehearsal. we're doing something new for "benni", in that we are incorporating karandila for parts of it. we also practise "neuer tag". anita christie, the singer in karandila, takes on a vocal part. it's so hot that the microphone burns when it touches your lips. the musical work doesn't really soothe me either. i'm like a tiger that has been riled. i want to see blood, want to kill - and at the same time i'm appalled at myself. my sixth sense tells me that something else will come to me today.

that evening, when the concert should be starting, the time comes. 3 hours before the start of the concert nothing had changed on the terrace, where it had been promised that it would be cleared. and it has been screened by security in such a way that the only people admitted are those who are prepared to take a table and have something to eat, the very front part being reserved for friends of the hotel, associates garlanded with gold chains and female finery.

i get hold of an interpreter and make it clear to all that there will be no concert with security like this. at 8pm, an hour before the concert - the situation is the same. there are now about 1000 people standing behind the trees outside, who can see as good as nothing. i go on stage and let everybody know that i am not prepared to play for a few rich people, but will give a concert for all silistra's citizens and guests. furious applause from the back and - thank god - from about half the guests who have made it onto the terrace too.

i go to the technicians and order them to make everything ready to bring on board and to cast off. i run to the captain and ask him how long he needs for a cast off maneouvre. advised of the situation, he offers to get the ship to my desired point in about an hour, despite the growing darkness and the illegality of the action, and starts the engines straightaway. "and if they lock me up and jonas has to pay 100 or 200 euros penalty, then we'll do it."

i go to the microphone with the interpreter one last time. she is bulgarian herself and translates not just precisely, but also with palpable solidarity. i name the owner and tell of his unwillingness to cooperate, mention his breach of promise, say that it is not my concept of europe, where the majority of people are downgraded to mere onlookers.

wolfgang (sound) and hans (light) have already brought in their mixing desk and cables with the help of the musicians. i call jonas my tour manager, who is still trying to negotiate, on his mobile and tell him to come to safety and come on board quickly.

balou, the technical director, manages the complex act of bringing down the roof in record time with help from everybody and off we go. the loudspeakers are booming out roman gregori's song: "ready yourself, for your first slap today" and our guitarist, sevi, adds a powerful sound over the top. i stand next to the captain on the bridge and watch as the crowd of now more than 2000 people follow us like a procession down the bank, shouting with glee and i send my anger flying out into the danube. when we reach "our" spot, we raise the roof and the LED walls and start to play together with our guests. carried by a wave of unending solidarity and gratitude for this act of resistance against despotism and exclusion.

postscript: the concert ended at 1am! there was no aftermath. or was there? on this very day uli eichelmann from the wwf had brought along media representatives from germany: spiegel, focus, süddeutsche and deutschlandfunk. they got something really important. and tomorrow karandila's management are going to give a press conference in sofia about the events.