I am walking towards the trains when I hear ‘Bengawan Solo’ being played on the accordion. I stop, for it suddenly transports me back to Malaysia . I seek out the busker. He doesn’t look Asian, which makes it even more brilliant that he picked up this tune. But I wonder how he learned it and what, if anything, it means to him. We revel in the lilting tropical melody, just him and me, our shared pleasure filling the cool, clean contours of the Bahnhof. ω