The ten most interesting, stressful, and aggravating days of my life were spent in Hamburg, Germany. I've lived in America for all 21 years of my life and never left the country. One day, I received one of a dozen e-mails sent to me for a list of activists that usually involve things in other states or countries I would figure I can't possibly effectively get involved in. This one caught my eye: "END DOG SLAUGHTER IN GERMANY NOW!" It was sent from Second Chance for Animals in England, whom informed me of the situation.
        I love animals. I love all animals. If someone steps on a snail I get pissed. Particularly, I feel a special bond with dogs. No animal is more stupidly and lovingly loyal and innocent in my eyes. There's something about a big hairy animal wagging his tail with his tongue hanging out of his mouth after he just chewed the hell out of my furniture that is heart-warming. I ultimately reached Die Tierbefreire in Hamburg about the situation. I decided to book a flight for Germany to do a hunger strike against the race lists. I spoke with Angelika, head of Tierbefreier, about a hunger strike where I would represent the Pit Bull rescue group of Houston and the ideology of a no-kill movement for dogs I had personal experience with. I spoke no German at all, but Angelika assured me activists there would help me.         On December 9th, 2000, I arrived in Hamburg to meet Angelika and Chanel. Chanel is a loving, calm amstaff that is the daughter of the pit bull that killed the Turkish boy half a year ago. Chanel's owner was restricted by the police from keeping her, and Angelika, while working two jobs and running Tierbefreier, took her to train her for the test to save her life. I met with over a dozen Tierbefreier activists to formulate a battle plan for the strike that basically involved winging it day by day, but we did a pretty good job. The idea was for me to drink only water and sleep on the streets so I could get public sympathy. Activists would often be with me and would watch me at night for safety. Activist helped create the press releases, fliers, and sign I would have on strike, giving more support than I had ever expected. Mark, who lived next to Angelika, claimed he wasn't an activist but proved otherwise during the strike. He was eager to offer his help, and I told him I was trusting him to keep me motivated despite how bad I may want to quit. Mark lived up to the trust I put in him and more.
        I left on the 10th to go on strike. We went in front of the Burgemeisters' office, but the police, paid by the public to blindly obey and enforce laws regardless of any adherence the laws have to justice or preservation of innocent lives, told us we had to leave. Tierbefreier activists led me to Radio Hamburg, where I slept for a night and asked permission to go inside for an interview. Radio Hamburg personnel explained they wanted nothing to do with me, probably because trying to save the 120 dogs in the Harburg and the future dogs to be brought there wasn't as important as yapping about rock stars. I went, ironically enough, near the Burger King close to the mall. It was convenient so I could use the restroom when I needed and have access to the public as they walked by so I could pass out fliers and converse as best I could. For three days I received no media at all. Activists were usually close to talk with non-English speaking Germans about the race lists and to ask for support.
        Houston is no wonderful city. It's the most polluted city in America - hot as hell in the summer and almost flooded every winter with rain. The people drive like maniacs and most of the local county government consists of a bunch of crooked scumbags I have personal experience with. My impression of Hamburg, however, was of a city with miserable weather and even more miserable people. It rained non-stop those three days, and my waterproof ski pants and jacket turned out to not be so waterproof. I would sit there with an umbrella in the rain, soaked; cold and angry, as I tried to offer free information to people who might gaze at my sign. It explained I was an American citizen on hunger strike against the race lists and for animal rights with pictures of pit bulls with children around them next to it, but people who seemed so curious about it would completely ignore me. In Houston, most people will either accept your flier or at least shake their head disapprovingly at it. In Hamburg everyone seemed cold, rude, and scared of me, as if my flier was going to reach out and bite them. I remember that a homeless man with five dogs whom he claimed to be half wolf sat near me with his friend. He read my sign and gave me 7 deuschmarks, smiling and explaining in his best english he wanted it for my cause more than for himself. More minorities read my fliers than whites, more young people than old, and more poor people than rich. It was mostly the middle-aged white men and women in suits that were far too busy and dealing with things far more important that trying to save over a hundred innocent dogs than to even glance at me as they walked by. Many people would offer me money but were very reluctant to say they would commit to writing a letter to the Burgemeister, even when I told them I didn't want their money but only their written recognition of our cause on the Burgemeister's desk. By the third day I was so angry, hungry, and depressed I would have to just hold my fliers in one fist and stare at the ground to stay calm, only offering information to the people who actually stopped to read the sign and look at me quizzically.
        The entire time, I was sleeping on the street at different places. Marcus, an activist with Tierbefireier who speaks excellent English and is very kind, was always with me. He would lay a sleeping bag down and bear the cold concrete and rain with me. I would wake up with another activist, Hansi, who came through for like many other activists time and time again, standing near me like a trained guard watching the sidewalks and streets until I awoke. It takes a while for the homeless people to settle down with their dogs and friends to sleep, but it was very quiet when they did. Security guards rarely came by at night, and at one point I awoke to find my backpack moved a hundred meters down the street with my belongings scattered about and my thermos of warm water empty. At another point, a drunken homeless man tried to pick a fight with me and accused me of stealing his wallet until a police officer kindly resolved the matter. By the fourth day, the manager of the Burger King informed me the race lists "weren't his problem" and made me leave just as someone from Aldser Radio was offering an interview with me. I went thirty meters away near the mall entrance with more access to people. Aldser came out to see me, and Marcus did an interview for them that was aired that day and every hour of the next day. Marcus and I soon left to go to the train station where Burgemeister Ronder himself was supposed to be talking to the public for a Christmas event. I went to see Ronder beforehand at the station. He shook my hand and I explained to him that we wanted to take the dogs from the Harburg to train them for a test I knew they had no chance to pass. He stuck his hand in my face and said, "You want to take them to America? Fine!" He walked off despite my protestations that local activists wanted to help the animals. When he was standing before the crowd, I squeezed through and began yelling as best I could in deusch and english that I was an American on my fourth day on hunger strike to oppose the race lists. I yelled that the dogs had no chance to pass the test after being stuck in cages for a month and over a hundred of them would die. He pointed his finger at me and a security guard began pushing me back. I went completely limp while yelling, and the guard lifted me up and drug me outside the crowd. Hamburg 1 was there, but told me they wouldn't air it because that wasn't what they were there for. I left for another night on the streets.
        Marcus stayed with me as we talked and practiced martial arts until I quickly fell asleep. After this night I became very ill and realized I would have to sleep in a bed for the remaining time to get my health back and meditate to stay calm.
        On the sixth day we got a break. Tierbefreier had planned a protest at the Harburg where the dogs were kept in their cages. We were trying to get 200 people to handcuff themselves around the Harburg. We wanted support from Berlin, but Berlin activists called the Hamburg police and informed them of the action to ask for permission. The result: 80 cops showed up to stop us and no one from Berlin would come out to help. So, 50 of us were there and the police warned us early on that our action would be illegal. We went forth anyway to the gate of the Harbug, with the media following along. An activist immediately handcuffed himself to the gate as a truck was trying to pass through it from inside. Someone handed me a pair of cuffs, and I cuffed myself to the gate while holding my sign as several other activists were already doing the same. The police gave us ten minutes to talk to the media allowing us TV spots on RTL and NDR and one small negative spot in a local newspaper. No one was ticketed or arrested. In Houston, you would be in jail for this before you realized it.
        The rest of my days on strike were more interesting. Many more people stopped to talk and take fliers, likely due to the media we had received. We got one more spot on Aldser radio on the final day of the strike when we gathered together a dozen activists to offer a gift of fake pit bull blood to the Burgemeister at his office. The police wouldn't allow us in, but we had 2 activists dressed up like Santa Clauses and one as a grim reaper with us to get attention but little else. After this event, it was clear the media could was tired of the issue, and the hunger strike came to an end. One TV station had called us just to say they didn't want us bothering them to cover us, and Hamburg 1 never came out to interview me as they said they would. The overall effect of the strike, I feel, was a grass roots action that put public pressure on the Burgemeister. Ronder may not publicly recognize this pressure, but he'll know it's real. This is what we need to buy time to get the dogs bought out of the Harbug and slow police from taking dogs from peoples' homes. The hunger strike didn't save all of the dogs in Germany, but it did give a chance to the dogs in the Harburg of Hamburg. I hope it helped save at least one life, and was better than sitting in America to sign a petition and do nothing else.
        My impression of Hamburg was one of both extreme kindness and selflessness from the activists of Teirbefreier and shocking rudeness of the citizens. Politicians such as Ronder, who are suppossed to be public servants, should go out of their way to find and express the truth in its most blatant and naked form. Instead, government officials too often support only one side of an issue and reveal only one side of a public view, warping the public's idea of the issue. Entertainment is media and media is entertainment, and I learned very quickly that German media is no exception. Sex, fame and violence rule the airways and take precedence over an animal rights issue. The issue only becomes important if violence is involved, such as a dog attacking a person, in which case it is blown out of proportion so as to make it seem that all dogs of the breed involved in a single incident are dangerous fighting dogs.
        I left Hamburg, taking with me hope for the dogs, newfound friendships I couldn't of asked more from, and a bitterness against the German government and media. A lot of work lies ahead for activists opposing the race lists, though, and we are depending upon the compassion of every concerned citizen to do their part. Die Tierbefreier activists are few but hard working, and I am indebted to them for helping me as I tried to do my part for the campaign. They showed me rare kindness and patience, and rare courage and determination for the sake of the animals. If every citizen of Hamburg was the same, no Burgemeister could stand in the public's way.

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