2010.05 Balti jaam - Kivimäe

text by: Madis Katz

These trains are electrical. That’s nice. Green and so. And they have those cute places to hang your bicycles. Even if you don’t ride one, you just need to love that.
I’ve been riding them – those electrical trains - all my life. Except past few years; i just live in a another city. “no-electrical trains”-type of a city. No trams either.
I came from that other city. From bus station of the capital I walked to the tram stop, meeting a famous beggar – young woman, fluent in many languages, equipped with medium size wheely-subcase. She asks politely for money to take a bus home, playing pitiful. Different bums in other city do it also. But they are happy with ten times less money. They never get too intrusive; their legends are sometimes absurdish, but the performance is almost always worth a little pay. She? She got her pictures into newspapers. Greedy, girl.
Tram and then train station. Trains and select the correct one. Inside it and a friend. Sat and talked.
She had yellow boot straps. I had green suit. She had flowers on her shirt and a skirt. I had a cap and brown scarf with big hole in it. We talked.
I noted my stop closing up, getting up early, being at the door early.
Train stops, I can see the platform, just there, behind the doors. I stare at it for a second, memories, or mental notes about those signs saying something about some doors staying shut at some levels of platforms. I stare for a long second, Ii take a half step back, have a glance inside the wagon. Some people, she also, are showing me to take another door. I feel I look stupid; I rush through tambour, get to the other side, train is starting it’s move again and doors are shut, there also, anyway. Fuckin’hell! I’ve done it for few times. I mean walked back from Pääsküla because I fell asleep or something. It’s 20 minutes walk (some in green) what I usually don’t mind too much, but on that day I did mind! My great grandaunt got 91, it’s her party, and i’m late! Because i cant get out from the train!
Jumped out in Pääsküla, there was a train on the other side of the platform. Jumped in, joined an old guy on his seats and asked when will the train go – (yes, they do stand and start there sometimes) but he couldn’t understand. I changed the seats, asked a young lady now. She seemingly couldn’t get me either. “What?” she asked - “The train? It’s stopped, right? When does it kind of... go?” – “ehmm.. Instantly..?”.
This guess was kind of good. Train did start moving.
I saw a conductor, explained her my awkward situation, complained about e mess, claimed, that all the doors could be opened. She gave me those tired, “can’t-you-read-you- little-fucker?”-eyes and went along. I was just hoping for a little dialogue, ticket-buy/ohno- notbuy wasn’t the main issue.
I was lucky enough to have the right door to get out.
Few times more now I have had train rides in this city. And yes, now when you tell me, I yes can see the signs, and I yes can hear the machine-girl voice telling me to note which platforms are high, which low and which doors coincide with them. And even a little screen with running text telling to mind all those things, yes I see.
This machine-girl, she just doesn’t have yellow boot straps.

2009 autumn San-Jose - Puerto Viejo

text by: Ann Kuut

Niiskus, niiskus, niiskus...Mu juuksed ei kuiva ära...Ujun läbi õhu...Niiskus...Autorajale sajab kosk, pilved upuvad puulatvadesse...Niiskus...Juuksed ei kuiva, deodorant ka mitte...Punased konnad olla mürgised ja lained suured...Niiskus...Kõrvad on kõrgusest lukus...Elu vihmametsas – vihmapilves – pilves, vihmas, elus...metsas

2009 autumn Forthamilton Parkway

Text by: Ann Kuut

Veidras udus, linna sudus, kus Forthamilton Pway on täis linnulaulu, rööpad, mida ümbritseb suitsev ja kolisev korstende ja metroorataste džungel...Kõik peidetud siia ühte neoonvalguse kärasse, sellese masinakisasse...Mina siin, pisike, selle kõige keskel, astunud välja telepildist...mina siin

2008.04 Tartu-Tõravere

Text by: Ann Kuut

Tere hommikust lilleke! Näen sind täna jälle natuke teise nurga alt...Natuke ilusamana...Hommik on heledam ja tõelisem kui eile...ja rongijaamas on naljakas tunnel...

Istungi rongis...ilma sihtkohata...Millal veel kui mitte praegu, eks ju? „12 toolis“ oli tore lause: „Elu ei saa elada hing taevas, keha maa peal.“ Tõsi jutt! Nii et lasen kehal ja hingel mõlemil rõõmsa rõõsa põrssana mudas solgendada ja püherdada...

Tohoh...Nüüd läheb huvitavaks...Rongi rattad ragisevad...Sihtkoht on selgunud – Teravere või Tõravere vms. Tuleb pärast Nõod, et ma maha ei magaks...

Milline rahu...Ei tilkagi rahutust...Päike põikleb läbi piiskades klaasi ja teeb sõitjaile diskot...Mina olen juba ammugi varvastel ja keerutan ja keerlen...läbi Eestimaa märgunud heinamaade ja mööda kasetohku üles...Tema ja sambla lõhn jäävad veel kauaks mu küünte alla ja seebiga maha ei tulegi...Kobrutavad kükakil hurtsikud, mida küünistavad puud... „Täna näen ma Eestimaad!“ Klopsitud plekki vineeri peal, roostes tünne, kus vihmavees roisknevad lehed...Kooruv värv ja nuuksuv loodus: „Andke mulle tagasi mu rüü...mu ehe...mu kalleim vara...Ära nüli mind...“ Ahh, niisama siristan siin elektriliinil...

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Reference by: Ann Kuut