How much is the fish?

Kamil from Moscow had a cigarette for breakfast and another cigarette for lunch. He looks a bit shaky to me so I offer him an apple but he prefers just the cigarette. Bärbel Hartje had a tuna sandwich for lunch. Andrea went down the castle to get something from the bakery.

Before the beginning of the Summer Academy the technical team installed a kitchen but then it was decided that it would be too messy for everyone to cook. So there was the plan with the →"Schmankerl" caterer where unemployed people get short term contracts receiving the joy of a "work experience" while actually having to search for a "real job" - a paradox system of benevolent hyperexploitation that leads to an interesting taste in the food. I only ate there once, it cost 5 Euro 20 Cent and after 2 weeks the "Schmankerl"-system at the Summer Academy was abandoned. Not enough people ordered the food a day ahead and the laborious transportation of the food from the foot of Kapuzinerberg over to the top of Festungsberg cost the technical team more energy than they would receive metabolizing their own particular food from the Burgschenke restaurant.

The particular food of the technical team is daily fish with potato salad or chips. Today I joined the team for the fish. "Is it Monday today?" the sausage eating waiter asks the other waiter who took our fish orders. "It is fucking Monday." the other waiter says. While we wait for the fish the sausage eating waiter asks "Do you know the story of Nitsche?" - "You mean Hermann Nitsch?" - "Yes, the blood painter. He was here at the castle giving a course at the Summer Academy. One floor beneath his course there where artists with computers making photos, printing them and spreading them on the ground. Now at the upper floor of the Nitsch course they started to pour the paint on the canvases like Nitsch does, they poured and poured and at the floor beneath suddenly drip, drip, drip, the paint soaked through the wooden floor dripping on the computers destroying them." The waiter has finished his sausages, gets up to continue waiting and says "One guy who had his computer ruined really wanted to beat up Hermann Nitsch. But Nitsch just shrugged his shoulders."

I am wondering wether the computers were destroyed by blood or paint as my fish arrives on the table. I pay 10 Euro for the fish. The technical staff get it for 1 Euro with vouchers, that is why they eat it every single day of the Summer Academy. The scalopped codfish looks nice, tastes inconspicuously, it just rests a little bit heavy in my stomach. The oil in which it was fried was fresh today, the salad is light and digestable, the potatoes are clumsy. The fish was reportedly caught in the Northeastern Atlantic ocean. "How can you eat this every day?" - "I give it a different name every day." Thomas says. Today he calls it shark. His colleague Johannes (who did save a life when a fire broke out at the Café am Kai but does not want me to reported about it in detail) calls it baby dolphin. The secret director of the Summer Academy Professor Stephen Mathewson can't take the fish anymore. Today he switches for a Schnitzel.

After more than three hours I can still feel the codfish lying in my stomach. Kamil from Moscow has finally eaten something as well. What did he eat?

A fishing picture from Greenpeace.