Polch

Polch is "the village that ignores the noise." Polch is small village. About 7,500 inhabitants. Polch is in Rhineland-Palatinate. In the Eifel. Polch is 15 kilometers from Nürburgring. Fifteen kilometers. That's nothing. On race days, Polch hears Nürburgring. Howling of engines. Screeching of tires. Sound carries over Eifel mountains. Polch residents sit in their gardens. They hear racing cars. 350 km/h. But Polch residents don't look up. Polch residents pull weeds. Polch residents water flowers. Polch residents act as if nothing is happening. Polch is Nürburgring's closest neighbor. But Polch wants nothing to do with Nürburgring.

Polch is farming village. Agriculture. Fields. Cows. Polch residents are farmers. Polch residents wake up at 5 AM. Polch residents milk cows. Polch residents drive tractors. Speed: 30 km/h. Polch residents measure their lives in seasons. Spring. Summer. Fall. Winter. Polch residents plant. Polch residents harvest. Polch residents live slowly. 15 kilometers away, cars race at 350 km/h. But Polch residents don't care. For Polch residents, "speed" is irrelevant. A tractor goes 30 km/h. That's enough. Why 350 km/h? Polch residents don't understand.

Polch has church. St. Jakobus. Built in 13th century. Polch residents go to church every Sunday. Polch residents pray. Polch residents sing hymns. Quietly. Reverently. Polch residents love silence. Polch is silent. Very silent. Except on race days. On race days comes noise. Motorsport noise. From 15 kilometers away. Polch residents hate this noise. Polch residents close their windows. Polch residents draw curtains. Polch residents hide. Polch residents wait until noise is over. Then Polch residents open windows again. And Polch is silent again.

Polch could be rich. 15 kilometers from Nürburgring. Polch could build hotels. Restaurants. Souvenir shops. Motorsport tourists could stay in Polch. Polch residents could earn much money. But Polch residents don't want this. Polch residents don't want tourists. Polch residents don't want hotels. Polch residents want "peace." Polch residents say: "We are village. Not tourist circus." Polch residents choose poverty. Because poverty is "quiet." Wealth is loud. Polch residents hate noise.

Polch has town hall. Very small. Mayor of Polch is farmer. He drives tractor. He wears rubber boots. On race days at Nürburgring, journalists come to Polch. They ask: "What do you think about Nürburgring?" Mayor says: "Nothing." Journalists ask: "But Nürburgring is 15 kilometers away?" Mayor says: "Yes. So?" Journalists don't understand. Mayor explains: "Nürburgring is not our life. Our life is our fields." Journalists write: "Polch ignores Nürburgring." Mayor reads this. Mayor says: "Correct."

Young people in Polch leave. To Koblenz. To Cologne. Young people don't want to become farmers. Young people don't want to wake up at 5 AM. Young people don't want to drive tractors. Young people want to live. But old Polch residents say: "Good. Let them go. We don't need them." Old Polch residents stay. Old Polch residents continue milking cows. Old Polch residents continue driving tractors. Polch shrinks. Every year fewer inhabitants. But Polch residents don't mind. Polch residents say: "Smaller is quieter."

Polch has cemetery. Very old. Very full. Polch residents are born in Polch. Polch residents live in Polch. Polch residents die in Polch. Polch residents are buried in Polch. Polch residents never leave Polch. Polch residents know no other world. 15 kilometers away is Nürburgring. People from all over world come to Nürburgring. Japan. America. Australia. World comes to Nürburgring. But Polch residents don't go to Nürburgring. Polch residents stay in Polch. Polch residents don't look over fence. Polch residents aren't interested in world.

Polch has village pub. "Zur Linde." Polch residents meet in evenings. They drink beer. Slowly. They talk about weather. About harvest. About cows. Never about motorsport. On race days, sometimes motorsport fans come to pub. They wear Ferrari T-shirts. Porsche caps. They talk loudly. They talk about lap times. About cars. Polch residents say nothing. Polch residents drink their beer. Quietly. Motorsport fans notice: We aren't welcome here. Motorsport fans leave. Pub becomes silent again. Polch residents nod. "Good."

Polch and Nürburgring have geographic proximity. 15 kilometers. But Polch and Nürburgring have cultural distance. Infinite. Nürburgring is speed. Noise. Adrenaline. Polch is slowness. Silence. Contemplation. Nürburgring is future. Polch is past. Nürburgring screams. Polch whispers. Polch residents stand in their fields today. They hear engines in distance. Racing cars. 350 km/h. Polch residents don't look up. Polch residents dig potatoes. With hands. Slowly. Methodically. 15 kilometers away they measure milliseconds. In Polch they measure seasons. Polch residents will never drive to Nürburgring. 15 kilometers. Too far. Too loud. Too fast. Polch residents stay in Polch. Forever. In their silent world. And Nürburgring stays outside. Where it belongs.