“Kotti”, a junkie hotspot where drugs, dirt and disorder reign supreme 44 A BADTRIP The stairs to the subway station are littered with needles. A stench of urine and human feces hangs in the air. There’s a man on the ground: a short while ago, he was shooting up heroin. Now, he seems close to death. Some passers-by have dialed the emergency services but quickly left the scene. Meghann arrives in an ambulance, accompanied by a paramedic. It’s her first experience with an addict. The paramedic injects the man with an antidote, but when the patient realizes that his savior just ruined his trip, he freaks out and attacks the two with his fists. More junkies are gathering at the bottom of the stairs and blocking the exit. It is only with help from the police that Meghann and her colleagues manage to escape. Today, two years after the incident, the former meeting spot for Berlin’s junkies is barricaded with corrugated mesh, steel chains and padlocks. Meghann can still hear the screams resonate in the stairway. She looks at the concrete steps. “A wretched place,” she blurts out. Her stature, her appearance, the fact that a woman is calling the shots – many people, especially men, still feel offended by it all. “I’ve had someone spit in my face before,” she tells us. Insults and pushes are increasingly frequent occurrences. Three minutes – that’s how long Meghann gives every patient and herself. Three minutes to figure out whether someone really needs help. “It doesn’t matter where you’re from, what you look like.” Three minutes of respect. Three minutes that can save a life.
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