Munich of all places. The city that he has been at odds with since he studied here has taken away from Christoph Rehage what is so important to him. His company, on which he could lean, which he pulled, which pushed him.
The Kabutze, the name Rehage modified from the English word caboose for galley, is a chassis welded together from steel tubes. There is space in it for a large box that Rehage can take out and put back in. There are two long bars on the frame that Rehage holds when he pulls it, two shorter ones as a standing aid, and two large wheels. They have turned reliably for many thousands of kilometers, on dusty paths, on busy and deserted roads.
Christoph Rehage has been on foot with his Kabutze for seven years. From China to Germany. His destination is Bad Nenndorf near Hanover. That’s where he grew up. About 600 kilometers before the end of this journey, his vehicle, which Rehage calls companion, is now gone. Removed from a Schwabing backyard. Rehage had arrived there on June 30th with a friend from her student days at the LMU. A few days later he took the train towards the Adriatic Sea. Keeping his tired feet in the sea, not walking 30 or 40 kilometers a day, sometimes traveling as a tourist, he boarded the train at the main station with this intention. The Kabutze meanwhile stood in a corner between the wall of the house and the bushes. It wasn’t locked or locked. A deadly sin in Munich, bike owners know that. “My experience has been that most people in the world are nice,” says Rehage. “You think: it’s okay.” Apparently not in a big German city.
Companion on dusty roads: Christoph Rehage’s fully packed “Kabutze”.
(Photo: Christoph Rehage/oh)
News of the loss reached Rehage on the beach at sundown. 24 hours later he’s sitting in a Schwabing bar and says: “Munich isn’t Bulgaria or Romania.” He maneuvered his Kabutze across the Carpathians. There, the risk of tipping over was greater for them than of being stolen. Rehage always thought they were safe in Hungary, Serbia, Azerbaijan, Iran, Uzbekistan, Kyrgyzstan and in the great Middle Kingdom. This was also the case during the Corona period, when he had to look after her in Turkey for a year and a half while he was stuck in Georgia.
In Munich, an employee of the caretaker company has now removed the vehicle from the Schwabing residential complex on the instructions of the property management. Without warning, without a notice in the entrance of the house. “We only carried out the order, contact the property management,” says the head of the company. However, she could not be reached by telephone at the time of going to press, and so far no one has answered a written request from the SZ. The chassis probably ended up in a container at the recycling center on Arnulfstrasse. Crushed with other metal objects. The presses are powerful and unrelenting. What’s gone is gone. This is reminiscent of Joseph Beuys’ bathtub, which cleaning ladies got their hands on in 1973. Christoph Rehage can’t believe it.
Christoph Rehage on the way.
(Photo: Christoph Rehage)
His curly hair almost reaches the middle of his back – at 192 centimeters tall that means something. The beard curls a hand’s length below the chin. Everything can grow, it should even grow. It’s part of his project, a kind of long-term performance. The hair crowd hasn’t seen a pair of scissors since 2016. At the end he now wants to part with it. The thought still holds him tight, how well this moment will be. He would like to donate the hair. Rehage is already preparing a rapidly edited new video: hair growth from bald head to lion’s mane, with changing places and seasons in the background.
He walked a longer distance from Paris to Nenndorf for the first time. He wasn’t long out of school then. 850 kilometers in 23 days. After a vigorous shower and a night in his own bed, he knew that running made him happy. Munich never made it. The Oktoberfest, the strong beer festival, the conservative with all its excesses repel him. But here he studied politics, sinology, Slavic literature, modern history up to a master’s degree.
In 2006, just on his 26th birthday on November 9th, he left China. With a backpack back then. Far too difficult, far too tedious, he soon realized that. He had the first Kabutze forged in the Gobi desert. After a traffic accident from parts of the old ones in Uzbekistan then a new one. He is not an outdoor person, says Rehage. A surprising statement. He doesn’t like sleeping in a tent that much, he’s afraid of the dark and sometimes of the exertion. He has processed his experiences in several books, which have also been translated into Chinese and Russian (“The longest way” 4646 kilometers on foot, Malik). He diligently uses social media and feeds a blog. Before the political turning point, Rehage was the social media star from Germany in China, with millions of followers.
Christoph Rehage’s hair is growing, that’s part of his long-term performance.
(Photo: private)
He also immediately shouted the loss of his Kabutze to the world on Twitter and Facebook. You can follow him through his website, which is named after his book. He earns from advertising via Youtube. That and his books, his lectures finance him. Rehage has two good cameras with him. He shares a lot of what he sees with the world: pictures of wonderful landscapes and crazy situations, for example when he crossed the Bosporus Bridge from Asia to Europe. Only cars are allowed to drive on it.
The restaurants have long since moved their tables in by the time they say goodbye. With the darkness of the night, Rehage’s melancholy spreads. He’s 41 now, is what he’s doing worth it? Economically? No? Physically? He had a herniated disc. But it will continue, maybe with a new Kabutze.