She is crossing Miguel Angel de Quevedo, a street in Mexico City. It suddenly smells like gasoline, reminiscent of the smell that takes her back to that wet corner and the smell of gasoline in Germany on an autumn morning. They are waiting to cross a street where cars pass very quickly. Today they will cross the street at the traffic light. Her younger brother grabs her by the hand, she feels responsible for him. Their father is teaching them the points they have to be aware of on the way from home to kindergarten. It's cold, and it has just rained. This day they were not allowed to cross where they always do, on the shortest side; the father wants to make sure that they will not take the easy cut when they are walking to kindergarten alone. So today they will have to cross that street at the corner waiting for the traffic light to turn green, and then return half a block. The yellow light seems eternal. The light turns green and they cross. The street has these tram tracks, -tin, tan, tin, tan- the tram is yellow, she likes it. Once they have crossed the Pirkheimerstrasse, they walk on the other sidewalk, the buildings are old, they have gardens and black bars, they turn left, they cross now a little street where they just have to look to the left to make sure no car is coming. There are four large buildings that look alike but are still different, in the windows people put flower pots, next to the bars they leave their bicycles. There is dog poop on the sidewalk, which smells stronger now that it’s all wet. She doesn’t like to step on dog poop, so she looks at the ground to avoid it.
She wears a stocking cap, and a raincoat…or a jacket?
The raincoat is yellow, and the jacket is blue and has white stripes. The jacket is worn once in the memory, but it suddenly changes to be the raincoat.
Her father's hand, then not her father's hand is holding her.
Her brother is singing and jumping. She likes the black bars and plants that come out between them.
She likes the smell that comes from a window on her right side. She likes the smell of the morning.
Now on the right side they climb a staircase that ends on a wooden door with a huge glass in the middle. They open the door, the building smells like wood mixed with humidity. They cross and go out to the backyard, there are already some other kids there, it’s the yard of their kindergarten; blonde children, with corduroy clothes, and plastic boots. Her teacher Uli smiles, she has long black hair and a turtle skin knit sweater. Her teacher Sabine has freckles and red hair. Her father leaves. Now they know how to get to kindergarten, next time they will go alone. She felt confident to guide her little brother the next day.