BUG: Deaf Identity and Internal Revolution

I Thought You Were KGB!

B U G 191 I Thought You Were KGB! My grandfather’s good friends, Karl and his wife Gretchen, were still living in East Berlin when the deconstruction of the Berlin Wall began in 1989. The citizens of Berlin (both halves) played no small part in its destruction, attacking it enthusiastically with sledgehammers for nearly a year until it was all gone. Rumor has it that this was the only way they could get David Hasselhoff to finally stop singing “Looking for Freedom,” but that’s a tale for another time. As my grandfather told the story, near the end of November of that same year, Karl and Gretchen went to see one of the two new passages that were being opened to the north and south of the Brandenburg Gate. Thousands of East Berliners had already left the city, and quite a few already said that they wouldn’t be coming back. Lots of people were milling around that day, so Karl didn’t immediately notice the man in the brown suit and sunglasses. At least not until Gretchen pointed him out. “Karl, that man is watching us,” she whispered. From force of habit, Karl’s stomach tightened, as if he could will both himself and his wife to become smaller, as if doing so could make them disappear altogether. The man’s suit was just a bit too new, his gawking manner just a bit too obvious, for him to be either a native East Berliner or even an innocent tourist . That meant one thing: KGB. Hence the futility—one cannot 192 C H R I S T O P H E R J O N H E U E R hide from the KGB. They come at you from all directions, if you see them coming at all, and once their fingers close over your shoulder in that dreaded grip, you will disappear. Albeit not in the way you originally wanted to. But that was so ridiculous! For one thing, Karl and his wife were hardly criminals or political undesirables. Nor were they doing anything to be frowned upon; hundreds of people had, at the government’s invitation, come to see the new passageways . You could leave if you wanted to, and they weren’t even trying to leave! Still, in such situations, if you really do have nothing to hide, it’s always best to appear as if you have nothing to hide. Thus Karl slowly began to approach the man in the brown suit, openly stretching his hands out in a “be calm” gesture. His approach startled the man badly, who began looking wildly around. No doubt for your KGB comrades, Karl thought. But nobody came. No one closed in on either Karl or Gretchen to grab them and toss them into the back of a car or van. “We’re not crossing over,” Karl said slowly, breaking the tense silence. “So we don’t have our papers on us.” “Eh?” the man grunted in surprise. “Your papers?” “Yes. We heard that anyone could just go if they wanted to; but we’re staying, you see? We’re just here. . . .” “What are you talking about?” the man interrupted suddenly . Now Karl was confused. “The . . . permits . . . to cross over . . .” “I don’t want to see your papers!” Karl didn’t want to ask the question directly, but he had little choice. “Are you . . . ahem.” B U G 193 “KGB? No!” The man suddenly began to laugh, relief evident in his expression and posture. It took him a moment to get a hold of himself. Then he said, “When I saw you both walking towards me, I thought you were KGB!” My grandfather told me that story when I was still a sophomore in college. At the time, it didn’t really have any application to my life. But after I graduated and spent a few years working in the field of education, I’d had a little taste of what an environment of constant oppression and paranoia can do to you. That’s why I laugh sadly when people flinch and cower away from the responsibility of standing up for themselves. “I can’t possibly speak up,” they say. “My boss would have my job if he found out!” When this happens, I’ll more often than not find myself remembering my grandfather’s story. I want to shake these people by their shoulders...