Alpina's blog post - Things That Make me Cry

Today I cried during my lesson. I showed my students a video about the life of Franz Kafka, the Jewish-German author who lived in Prague at the time of the First World War and who wrote his wonderful, enigmatic books with his soul. He died early from Tuberculosis, such a wonderful person - and maybe he was lucky, because he has a grave, while his sisters perished anonymously in Auschwitz and only found a grave in the air. None of my ancestors who lived at the time killed them - but not none of them did anything to save them, either.

"You cry, Miss Alpina, because of Kafka?" asked one of my students, full of wonder and disbelief. Yes things like that can make me cry. And Phillip, who showed me a video of the athlete at the Olympic Games who he has fucked.

Most of you may remember that Phillip is not a sports reporter. He was in Torino to write about the games in a more general way, about background events and general news. He had decided to write about a woman who is taking part in the Nordic events, cross country skiing - a woman who has little skill and little support in her country, so no chance of winning at all. He even recorded some video footage, about her hopes before the race, how she raced desperately and hopelessly and how she was disappointed after the race, although she never had a chance from the beginning.

On the day she lost the race - at the height of her disappointment and sorrow - he fucked her. And got so much out of her which he could use in his text: her three-year-old daughter at home, her miserable job in summer, abuse through trainers when she was an ambitious young girl. It is a good text, I have read it: the two sides of sport - glamour and failure, hope and despair, very understanding and sensitive, and it does not mention the woman's name or expose her in any way.

How can he be almost disappointed when I did not have sex last week? How can he think I enjoy hearing about his? How can he ever expect that hearing about it and seeing her on video should even excite me?

How should I not cry about Franz Kafka?