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We - Michaela, Peter and I, who are going to escort the soup to Greece, don’t know yet, if we can find someone to cook the soup that evening in Athens. So I decide to do it myself, namely a morning Miso soup. I freeze a half-litre as back up, fill another half-litre into the thermos flask, and a further half-litre into a second thermos. Flying with the soup - this is the soup’s first trip by plane – requires that we do not risk the luggage containing the soup to get lost, or maybe arrive in Amsterdam instead of Athens. So the soup is travelling to Greece in two times half-litres and in two different pieces of luggage.
We inquired about the possibility to carry the soup as hand luggage, with the flask foil wrapped and declared to customs. No chance! EU directives do not allow soup to be carried in hand luggage for security reasons. Terror - it seems - has achieved its aim. An unreal feeling of horror that keeps people in permanent anxiety and sanctifies radical measures to undermine all the social values, which are supposed to be protected: freedom, responsibility, justice, proportionality. The innocent soup becomes suspect with pursuing terrorist activities, and is therefore relegated to the cargo bay. In the same way as German Interior Minister Schäuble calls for collecting personal data about truants. So unreasonable and ineffective such measures may be against soup or deviant pupils there’s always a jerkwater politician, who will try to make democratic goodness out of such directives. So: soup and scholars beware!
In any case we arrive safely and on time in Athens, where we are cordially received, as always, by our Greek friends. In the evening, our host Ioanna leads us to a nice little tavern at the Kerameikos Quarter. A meeting place for artists where photographers, painters, movie makers and lots of people come together who love the colorful hustle and bustle.
Ioanna asks the innkeeper Kostas if he would cook the soup for the following day. "What exactly do you want?" Kostas responds "Should I simply make soup for you? I`ll do this for hospitality, but is there anything else? What has the soup got to do with arts? If I come to Austria and ask if you can make me a soup, do I then get soup?
I have the impression that Kostas is a sly fox with a dry, slightly surrealistic sense of humour. We make an appointment to bring the Jahressuppe the next day at two o’clock and that his Ukrainian cook would prepare the soup.
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