Germany. Writing about Germany is as hard as taking photographs of Germany. For me. While I am writing this my keyboard neither sound nor feel like a typical soft and computer-like keyboard. My fingers feel like fingers that type a typewriter. An ancient typewriter. Typing in cement, in thick viskosity. Germany. Oh, Germany. I am German. Order. It is a lot about order. The Germans might be the world champions of order. Garbage collection and sorting of onetime or multiple time usable glass, metals, plastics, organic waste, papers, garden refuse is a dominant daily doing. Germans believe in a positive effect of direction signs and caution tape and feel responsible for the education of other people they do not know – preferably in traffic. That gives kind of solace. It is the country that might have invented documentation and bureaucracy. The Germans might also have invented the “green movement” while they rush without speed limit and their powerplants burn cole. The idyll is the private owned house with a yard-view terrace, the forest as a place for myths and recovery, lakes for local recreation. Soccer, books, beer, weekend cycling and the rejection of all these clichés are part of the German culture. Part of my culture. When photographing something we are always at risk to confirm our own clichés.