End of a Tour of Duty

Fourth place? Team Judo goes Orient, which had been buzzing with energy just moments before, looks as though they can’t make sense of the world anymore. Fourth place? At the Allgäu-Orient-Rallye 2016? Where everyone ends up in fourth place — except those who come first, second, or third. Fourth place? On the day the Allgäu-Orient-Rallye pays a visit to the Turkish town of Dalyan and the people are in a festive mood? Well, they’re right.

Yes, the rally is over in Dalyan, and anyone who’s been here before feels right at home. It starts with the charm of the little Turkish town and ends with the peaceful atmosphere of its people. Hours before the closing ceremony, some people stop to admire the few rally cars parked on the square not far from the stage. That alone is remarkable — there’s not really much to see. They’re old cars, now worn from the long journey, dented, missing body panels, and their tired occupants just want to take a shower before the party. At best, the vehicles look adventurous. Battered is probably more accurate.

But this is the closing ceremony of the Allgäu-Orient-Rallye, and even if you’ve written that sentence dozens of times, it still rings true — especially now: the rally demands a great deal from its participants. Anyone who signs up has to give things up — other hobbies, for instance, for which there’s simply no room left given the time-intensive preparation. There’s more still: the holidays you sacrifice, the financial resources you have to invest, and the passion that drives this whole project.

On this Friday evening, all the drivers are gathered together, waiting for the rally to be officially declared finished. And anyone who listens in on the drivers’ conversations notices: they’re here because of the rally, yes — but above all, they’re here for each other. The enthusiasm of the participants — already present in the preparation phase and no different during the rally itself — is the kind that feeds on itself. The typical participant goes where adventure is expected and improvisation is required. Then they drive kilometre after kilometre, unload relief supplies, and look forward to convivial evenings, chatting a little, drinking beer and eating grilled food. It’s these experiences that give the rally an intensity that’s otherwise hard to come by. And personal commitment multiplies the atmosphere even further — that’s always the way in situations like these.

But that’s exactly the point: Team Judo goes Orient invested themselves in the rally, and that makes them vulnerable. It seems as though this team put in an effort that’s hard to match. And it therefore seems as though a good portion of luck would be needed to end up with a better placing than the masses. And that’s what defines this closing ceremony, the final act of this roughly three-week journey: it’s carried by an innocent enthusiasm, an enthusiasm that manages without excessive objectivity when it comes to judging the final standings. Which is often the case.

The rally lives through its participants, not through the organising committee — but it’s rather difficult for the former to make their dissatisfaction known. The teams are simply guests at the Allgäu-Orient-Rallye, and guests only. It’s never quite clear what’s coming next or where everyone will end up for the evening. We saw this time and again when the organiser gave us wrong information or no information at all, leaving us to figure things out ourselves. It therefore makes things difficult when such an organisation passes judgment without transparency. It’s this sense of being torn that kept us occupied that evening. Those who judge, wield power.

But that’s already in the past, it seems. Team Judo goes Orient had a wonderful time together. It met strangers who treated them like family. It overcame difficult situations that strengthened the bonds between them. It experienced how other people live and how grateful they are when help arrives.

When we signed up for this rally, we didn’t know what to expect. I’m not sure I would have signed up if I’d known everything in advance. But I’m almost certain I won’t sign up again. I’d rather take on new challenges with this team. So: when we sit down together for breakfast the next morning and share some memories, it’s hard to accept that our time together is over — for now.

The rally welcomed our team the way you greet a long-distance relationship where you’re not yet sure whether to take the next step and move in together. It didn’t dare take that step. But we, as a team, did. We take memories with us that no one can ever take away.

Thank you to all of you: for your support, for following along, for sharing the tough moments and the joyful ones.