Old and new in Dessau – a city with many faces
Photo: imago/Ipon
I’m floating in lukewarm water. Spherical tones add comfort. I lie in a spacious plunge pool between dark blue tiled walls that slope slightly inwards. Like in a cave. I close my eyes.
15 years ago my biological father committed suicide in this city. I lost my father for 30 years; We had three early years before my parents’ divorce, which I don’t remember – and eight late years, which were very intense, until December 2009. He had just recovered from an illness and moved in with his sweetheart when he found a rope around his neck and jumped off a bridge. I got to know Dessau, the city that wanted to deny me the sight of my dead father, and experienced grumpy people in the bank, office and funeral home. I prevailed and said goodbye, laying flowers on the snow in Magdeburg where his ashes rest. December remains difficult for me.
Above water
private
Anne Hahn is an author of novels and non-fiction books and swims the waters of the world for “nd”.
In November 2024 I’ll be back in Dessau, from the train station I’ll pass residential buildings, theatre, court, prison and city park. I turn into Askanische Strasse and step next to the Mrosek pastry shop under the curved lettering “Stadt-Schwimm-Halle”. Below, sandstone children bathe in a river on both sides of the Dessau city coat of arms, perhaps a representation of 1907 at the same time as today Health bath founded River baths at the deer swamp? Art Nouveau tiles flank the passage; the courtyard opens the view to this historic batha hall and a two-story palace with a balustrade and wondering water spirit faces. Two mermaids hold a shell over the courtyard pavement, a curved staircase leads up to the swimming pool, an arrow points to the sauna. Inside it goes even deeper, even in the old walls everything has been stylishly renovated.
Sauna attendant Julien welcomes me warmly. There are seven of us guests and the mint infusion is served every hour. Julien waves gently, I stay for 20 minutes. A polar bear head with a blue tongue looks out of a mosaic wall. To the left of the centrally located cold shower you can cool your feet in vats and climb into the plunge pool behind it. To the right, loungers are placed in a room that opens windows high into the swimming pool. Children’s legs kick past. There’s a documentary about gold diggers in Australia playing in the bar. Julien, who also runs the bar, advises me not to drink, but rather go to the sauna and then only drink plain water! When he heard that I would like to see the swimming pool, which is only open to courses on Wednesday afternoons, he had some advice. But first into the diving pool. Julien thinks the water is heating up in the pipes that run through the old walls. I cool down carefully and ask myself, reconciled, whether my father was ever here.
As I look from the upper level of the swimming pool past the palm trees to the pool with its wellness pools, I see children jumping into the water and a swimming instructor smiling at me. I wave brightly and somewhat naively into the hall – and up into the dark November sky above.
We-don’t-give-each-other anything
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