Then the music came from the TV. But we did not turn on the TV at all. The music was not suitable for my recitation, because they did not know how the Aulacese (Vietnamese) recite poetry. I did not know where the music came from. It was from the TV. My assistant heard that too. “I don't know. Did you hear something?” She said, “Yes, I heard music.” I said, “From where? She said, “From the television.” She was a little bit scared, because we did not turn on the television.
So if we're good, then we stand out like a big light, a flashlight. And over the years, I have already experienced a lot, so (I wanted to) avoid it a bit. So, we started at midnight and something was always broken. Normally everything works, but not when we worked under those circumstances. They were nervous, too. And the experts were not allowed to come out because the police hadn't seen them yet. They had seen only one. So that was not a problem. One is from England. Although he is black, he is from England. One looks like an Aulacese (Vietnamese), but he is a US citizen. So, no problem, it was all OK.
I also hid because what you don't see doesn't hurt. So, they saw some and they were satisfied. But anyway, maybe the neighbors had described us somewhat, like explaining or describing something bad, or something. And the police stayed all day, and maybe the night too. So we hid in my small bedroom – as small as half of this room, and we all hid behind this heater.
Imagine with the hot lights, you sweat. But you didn’t look like that, when I recited poetry, the last one, “The Jeweled Verses.” Oh, my God. You didn’t look like that. But the poem looked so beautiful. Maybe the next ones that come will look just as beautiful. But you wouldn’t even know it. It looked so quiet.
When I went for a walk, oh, there were a lot of things happening. So, after that we started to... Everything was OK until five o'clock, five, six o'clock in the morning. And then, I invited everybody who didn't work. They came from far away but didn’t work. Only the two cameramen worked that the police had already seen. They were with me anyway. And the experts from the USA were all locked up in the garage or in some storage room made with plastic bags. No matter what, they could not go outside. So, at five o’clock or so, we were eating together, and meanwhile I said, “OK, book your tickets. We’re going home tomorrow. Bye.” It’s better this way.
When you’re famous, it’s not so easy. You understand? (Yes.) Yes. For you, if you go to the police and say you’re not doing anything, it’s OK. But for me, if I go to the police and say I’m not doing anything, that’s different. (Yes.) And then they’ll still do big things and make a report, and so on. That’s why it’s best to avoid it. It is not because we are doing something bad, but it’s better that way. That’s why sometimes I have a lot of people, but we can’t use them. But that’s not the worst. No. There are worse things, always. It’s not a problem. We live. I survived already. I survive.
Why do I tell you all these things? Did you understand anything? Never mind, somebody will tell you later.
In German is also good. German is very simple. You can understand it already. France and Germany are neighbors. If you don't understand anything, it's your fault. You should love your neighbor, love your neighbor. Love your neighbor. Love means, learn the language, eat the sauerkraut (pickled cabbage) and drink non-alcoholic beer.
Why am I telling you this? (Maya’s work.) Ah, because this didn't work out. I know, you always remind me of these negative things. Now we can laugh about it, but at that time, I could not. Can you imagine?
And yesterday, as I tried to recite some poetry, one after another, it broke. When it finally somehow worked, I was exhausted. But OK, I still tried again to do it. But I noticed that my physical strength was not so good, because I had some allergy and I took some medicine. But at that time, at midnight, I wasn't feeling so well anymore. I also noticed that my breath didn’t last as long as before. Before, when I sang something like this, I could hold my breath long, long, long. But now, normally I still can, but it’s not as beautiful, as before. Not so long, but I still can. But yesterday evening, I spoke only one, two words, then I had to breathe again. But I did it anyway. It's OK. You won't notice it.
And then, as I was in the middle of a poem, the dogs started, all ten dogs together. They sleep next to me, usually also in my room. But we did not want them in, so they were outside. But still they made so much noise, “A-ah-uuh, a-ah-uuh.” There is one, the Rottweiler, he always says, “A-ah-uuh.” He’s not barking! He says, “A-ah-uuh!” How to say? It’s not barking. (Yowling.) It’s not yowling. He does not yowl. (Bark.) No, he did not bark. (Howl.) Yes, he howled like that, like a wolf. Is he a wolf? I do not know where he learned it. Not from us. Like singing, but so terrible.
Oh, my heart, I said, "Please not now. Please not now, please! At least let me finish the poem, then we could have a break, then you can howl, or whatever.” But he did not listen to me. The whole house, all the ten dogs did this together. If one dog does this, then the whole gang does it together, but not always the same tune. Like an opera. The Rottweiler is a specialist – always likes to, “Gha-gah-uuh, gha-gah-uuh.” So heart-breaking. He cries, it's like crying. Usually, if the dogs do not see me, they think I’m am not at home. But if he hears a car or something, he begins, “I am here, we are here!” “Gha-gah-uuh, gha-gah-uuh...” And the others also imitate the Rottweiler.
The big one, the last one, he had never done this before. After living with the Rottweiler and the other dogs together, now he also, “Gha-gah-uuh.” He does it just like the Rottweiler. When they both do it together, oh, my God, it is like a funeral. And the others also.
My God. In the middle of my poetry, yes, really in the middle. Not in the middle of the whole program, but in the middle of one poem. If they finish one poem, I can take a break. Usually an “a-ah-uuh” doesn't take so long. Maybe two, three minutes, then finished. So I said, “Please, not now.” Everything was completely ruined. I had to repeat it.
And that was not the worst. When I recited the poem, I was always afraid that the lamp would break again, or the microphone would not work, or the camera. I asked, “Why does the camera not work?” He said, “It has been a long time since I’ve worked with this camera. Maybe because of that, I don't know. I cannot guarantee.” It was the only camera we had, and he was the only one who could handle it.
So, it was not so smooth. I had to always look at this, look at that to see if it went kaput. I was afraid inside, and also because of the dogs – so much stress. And then, I took a break and went to the bathroom to breathe a little bit, because we could not open the windows – all were closed. Then I thought, “My God, what kind of life do I have?” Never boring, you cannot say boring. Anything but boring.
Then I thought, “Maybe I should change my profession.” The singers, the artists, the musicians, they always have... As far as I know, there are singers, they have studios everywhere. If they want to record in Europe, they have a studio somehow. When they like to record in the Bahamas, they have their own studio there. And the music band is always with them, always legal. They’re afraid of nobody. Big stars.
I’m the biggest star, but nobody knows it. Therefore we have problems. I cannot say that I am the biggest star. So, I was in the bathroom, to refresh myself a little bit, gargle with water, and so on. Then I thought, “I sing here alone, without music, nothing, only the dogs’ orchestra.”
When I came out again, I switched everything on... turned it on again. Continued. Then the music came from the TV. But we did not turn on the TV at all. The music was not suitable for my recitation, because they did not know how the Aulacese (Vietnamese) recite poetry. I did not know where the music came from. It was from the TV. My assistant heard that too. “I don't know. Did you hear something?” She said, “Yes, I heard music.” I said, “From where? She said, “From the television.” She was a little bit scared, because we did not turn on the television.
The TV was just connected to the camera, so that we could see my image, if it was all right in the camera. It was only to make a bigger camera monitor. It was in “Video 2.” You must turn on the video, then you can see your video image from the camera. Understand? It was not... (Control monitor.) Yes, yes, it was not television – it was video. But it was only from the... (From the camera.) From the camera! There was nothing else. No video, no cassette, nothing, no television. But despite all this, music came out.
At the beginning it was low, and then it became louder. Oh, my God! I said, “We cannot use this music. It’s Rock & Roll.” It was normal music, and I was reciting the Aulacese (Vietnamese) poetry, that is very slow, very romantic. It had nothing to do with this music. Then I said, “I did not request this music.” I did not request it. How do you say it? (Bestellt [request].) I did not request it. And we both laughed and then we had to go on with the work.
Anyway, I tell you, life is very funny. I wanted music, but not this kind of music. I only thought it in my mind. I did not say, “Please send me music,” or something. I did not ask Heaven. It was just a thought, only a little bit – I did not complain much. Not at all, just some thinking. I only thought of it a little bit, only thinking for fun. I only thought normally, not like, “OK, I want absolutely to change my profession.” That was only for fun. Still the music came anyway.
But here we cannot get any Aulacese (Vietnamese) traditional instrumental music. That [music] is so beautiful. There is such a thing. Therefore, I am used to this maya. Yesterday evening, Heaven sent me music, maybe only for fun because it was not suitable. But [it was] beautiful. How do you say, it's the thought that counts? But I still say, “Thank You.” It's so beautiful.
