Betsy Berg

When i first met Betsy, she popped up at the exchange office and announced, that she wanted to kill herself that very same day. Betsy’s family immigrated to the United States at some point, i assume, when it started to become very uncomfortable to live in Europe as a jewish person, and now she was living in Paris, all by herself, speaking several different languages and staying in a hotel permanently. She must have been in her late sixties…She had grey hair, tied up to a little ball on the top of her head, and she was really small…

The second time she came by, she told me, she was fed up with everybody, and she wanted to be free, and then she took off most of her clothes, right in front of the exchange office, threw them on the ground and left. I quickly grabbed all her stuff and kept it in a plastic bag in the office. 

The next day she came back and said “could i get my clothes back?” 

She also asked me for my address and phone number. She needed to get some money from her lawyer apparently, but he wasn’t able to send it to a hotel-address, so she needed someone with a real address, in order to get hold of the money. I felt for her, and i thought, “who knows… maybe one day something really bad happens to me and i completely loose my plot and get naked in the middle of the street. And i would be happy then, if someone comes around and hands me a coat or something.” 

So i gave her my contact details. I didn’t really think much about it back then.A few days later, this guy from a UPS-courier-service knocks on my door and hands me an envelope, that i had to sign for.

“Are you a friend of Betsy Berg? Please sign here. Betsy advised to send money to this address”, he said. I was confused.

“Sorry, but i don’t really know Betsy that well-i just met her the other day…”

“She told me to send the money here, so please pass it over to her.”

When the guy was gone, i opened the envelope and found 10.000 US Dollars in there. This was maybe the biggest amount of money i have had in my hands at a time ever.

The problem was, i had no idea where to find Betsy Berg in Paris. I didn’t even know the name or address of the hotel she stayed in. I only knew, sometimes she would pop up at the exchange office, so for the next week, i walked everywhere with those 10.000 Dollars in my bag, in order to hand them over to Betsy eventually.

If this wouldn’t have happened to me in person, i would say, somebody made this all up. Anyway…one day she called me and arranged a money-hand-over in a book-shop, somewhere in town…

So i went to that book-shop and found her in the aisle of german literature. Before i could hand over the money, she offered me a job. She wanted me to be her travel companion. and travel around the world with her, while she would pay for absolutely everything: flights, accommodation, anything i needed or wanted to have. One part of me thought, “wow, what a great opportunity to travel around like a rockstar or a body guard of this little crazy lady!” The other part of me thought “if i spend 24/7 with this crazy person, i am gonna be ready for the psych-ward pretty soon myself”.

I got a bit scared, to be honest…

Also i just arrived in Paris and i wanted to stay, so i told Betsy, that i wouldn’t be able to come with her. She got so upset and angry, that she yelled at me to leave her alone and then she stormed off and left me there in the bookshop.

I still had the 10.000 Dollars in my bag.

The next time she came to my office, i handed over the money and i told her, i’d be happy to “work” for her, while she was in Paris, and i also offered her to introduce her to my friend Florian, maybe to do some exercises with her, to help her with some back pain. I wasn’t into Yoga back then, otherwise i could have given her some classes myself. I was looking forward to share a little amount of Betsy’s craziness with Florian…

So once in a while i “worked” for Betsy and she paid me with her US Dollars.

One day, i had to travel with her through Paris by bus and we went to this library, where she spent a few hours just looking at some books.

Another time, i had to come to her hotel-room and she asked me to call these people to tell them to leave her alone.  Now, looking back, i can’t even believe i actually did that…

“Hello? Is this Nancy? Hi Nancy! My name is Rossi, i am a friend of Betsy and she asked me to let you know to leave her alone please.”

I had to call quite a few people.

While i was doing those weird phone calls, Betsy sat on her bed, cut out random pictures of newspapers and spread them all over her bed. It looked like she wanted to make a collage of some sort. She also started singing and she cooked up some soup, that she wanted to share with me. I looked into the saucepan…an onion, a carrot, some potatoes and other veggies were floating in some boiling water…

“No thanks, Betsy, i am not too hungry today…”

She kept asking me to come with her to travel, but i kept saying, i wanted to stay in Paris. Every time she got really angry at me. One night, i was on a party at my friend Florians’ house…we danced and drank and got high, there were people from all over the world on these house parties in Paris, and my phone rang. I picked up and Betsy shouted at me:

“HEIL HITLER!!!” 

“Betsy? Is that you?”

“HEIL HITLER!!!” she repeated loudly.

And then she hung up. I stared at my phone, didn’t really know what to do with that…

This was Betsy. A few weeks later she called again, from Switzerland. She said she would stay with her lawyer for a while and she actually sounded happy on the phone. I wished her all the best. She thanked for my help and wished me all the best too. I never heard from her ever again. This was maybe the strangest encounter i have ever had in my entire life, so far. I tried to google her a few years later, to see, if there was maybe something about her on the Internet. But i couldn’t find anything. There were a lot of Betsy Bergs out there actually, but none of them looked like “mine”. She might be gone by now and if so, i hope she rests in peace. If she is still alive, i hope she is happy. As much as she can be.

And now, when i meet or see people who seem really weird or lost or crazy or desperate, i think of Betsy sometimes, and i know…these people are not so crazy or weird…most likely they experienced something really traumatic in their lives, and who knows, what we would do, if something happens to us, that changes everything, and if we don’t have loving people around us to catch us if we fall…