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The first destination was Vienna. We had a
reference to a friend of our friend ... Just one night, tomorrow we move on.
The door bell rang, but there was no answer. Night was falling, were to go now? For the first time
I used my English to ask for a hotel - "... an economy one please". "Czechs? Over there, the owner is Czech too - Franz
Nahrada." The proverb has it that
every true Wiener is a Czech. Franz Nahrada was a true Wiener. He remembered a
few Czech words too: "You are a nice girl" he addressed my son in
broken Czech, and than he showed us to our room where we spent the first night in
the free world and we slept like logs.
Next morning we woke up in the new world. New
people? Not yet. There was a long long journey ahead of us but we did not know
that.
And that
was good.
We had no intention to enjoy holiday in Austria.
Next morning we made a phone call to Australia to get in touch with our
relatives who sponsored us. We were given a name and an address to go to - AFCR in Vienna and K. K. in
Treiskirchen. Treiskirchen was the largest camp for refugees from all over
Europe, Africa and Asia. Every refugee who ever applied for asylum in Austria
knows this camp. We did not. First we went to AFCR - an American Office For
Refugees where we hopped to get a help and fast passage to
Australia. But instead we hear: "Sorry, we can't help you, you have
to go to Treiskirchen, just to register, they will help you there". A
little bit of disappointment - but never mind, let's go to Treiskirchen.
Treiskirchen is a town about thirty kilometers from Vienna. The camp
entry features gate, boom and a watch booth like Army barracks. Around - people of all
colors, races and ages dreaming about freedom, prosperity and who knows what
else. A bit of hesitation - what are we going to do here among all those
adventurers, many of them tattooed with scary look? Most of them are Polish
people, some Hungarians, Rumanians, the rest from Africa etc. I wanted to
tell them that we are here just for a stopover just a few days and then off we
go to Australia - they are waiting for us over there. But the life is not always
so easy
and straightforward. Waiting room was dirty and the air was smelly with people sleeping
on the floor, some of them must have spent here few days already. Polish people gave us basic information - the office is closed today, it
will be opened tomorrow morning, but they take only limited number of people it
is better to stay here overnight to make sure you get in. We go back to town
where we spent the day in disappointment. I could not believe that it - I
thought they would give us a welcome and instead they do not want us. It is
getting dark, we have to find a hotel for another night. We drive through the
town but could not find a hotel. We got at the end of town and stopped. At the road is a dead
cat, rain started pouring down and we do not know what to do next. My decision
is - let's go to Switzerland - we will apply for asylum there. My son is
all for it. My wife not. And then came one of those moments which makes history
change and turn people lives. In this case it turned our lives. My wife spotted through
the rain a blurry neon sign - Motel. Inside was cozy, we got a nice, clean
room with color TV, a
fridge with refreshment and in the morning - breakfast all you can eat! Ham,
cheese, yogurt, peanuts, cookies, fruit, simply everything you can imagine. We ate as much as we could.
It
was the first touch with the West as many people dream about - and for us the last
one for a long time.
5 July 1989.
After the good breakfast we went back to the smelly waiting room with the same smelly
air as yesterday, people sleeping on the floor, children
screaming, but there was a change - an officer standing in the middle of the
room wearing an indifferent bored face. Yet, something else has changed from yesterday -
some people disappeared overnight. We soon
learnt the reason why. Shortly after our arrival, the officer took our passports
and 10 minutes later we were sitting in the office. A short interview and we go
marching together with some twenty other souls to the camp's main building
called "Hilton". And there, to the 3rd floor - into isolation. We just joined the army of migrants.
The reason of the disappearance of some people from the waiting room in the
morning was this isolation. Sometimes they put new migrants into the isolation,
sometimes in so called "frielager" - free camp. This morning was isolation time.
We did not know, those who knew walked away.
In Hilton we got some essentials - each of us a blanket, bed sheet, aluminum"eating gear" (I think leftover from the WW1) and they showed us to
our room with already 30 people or so, sitting or sleeping on iron beds -
bunks, men, women, children all together. Our hearts sunk a little, yet
the worst was to come - toilets. One toilet room for the whole floor - maybe 150
people. Of course shared - men, women, children using the same toilet bowls
(with no seats on them). No shower, only 10
taps with water running into the sink, but often not running out because of blockage - when
somebody vomited into it. However some people coming from less civilized
world were all happy - feeling at home. Soon we learnt to use the toilets early
in the morning, because after 9 am they became unusable.
With us shared the room two other Czech families, a good company and good
friends too. We all have children about the same age, so they play together and
time passes faster.
We also found some more Czechs and Slovaks on our floor, we often talk
together. Actually, there is nothing else to do here, just sit,
talk, wait for the meals,
listen for "achutngs" (calls) from loudspeaker, walk on the
corridor, look from the windows and watch the dreamed freedom in distance. Everybody
tells his story, many times over, one could write a book from all those experiences.
I used to be a teacher, I met many people and people's characters before, but nothing
to compare with this camp. I remember one fellow, he was married, but the marriage did not work out,
so he secretly obtained a passport and a permission to travel (not difficult if the family stays back
home) and one misty morning he left home for work as usual, but instead going to work he
boarded a train to Austria... I could imagine him getting off the train in
Vienna, a typical workman, equipped with food for eight hour shift in his handbag,
seeking political asylum.
The food in Hilton was very good - 3 times a day, plus fruit - apples, bananas, oranges, apple-pines
etc. Much better then food in many of Czech cantinas I used to feed myself. For some
people coming from less fortunate countries it was a heaven. I saw parents and
grandparents peeling and handling bananas with great respect before they pass it to their
children.
Here are some notes from my diary:
Yesterday was 8 of July 1989 - they took us to a short interview. It is an
important one, we were told, on its basis the Austrian government will accept or reject
request for political asylum and thus the right to stay in the country. I was quite confident that we will get it. It means that we could stay in
Austria, settle down and get a job here, become Austrians. Hmm, it is very tempting
idea, short distance from home, but everybody told us that this society overlooks
migrants - "You would be always second hand citizens in
western Europe". For me, America was the dream country, Europe was still continent "in making" with many changes to come, so we decided to start new life in an open minded,
multicultural young country where everybody is somehow a migrant. (Now I
know it is not exactly true.)
9 July 1989
Today is Zdenek, my son's birthday. He got some sweets with a "Happy Birthday" celebration in
Trieskirchen-Hilton
style. He bears all this situation quite brave. He did not know that we
were leaving home for good until we were in Austria. When he learnt this he wanted to go
back home, I could still hear him saying more for himself than to us "I
will go home and stay with Mirek and Jarek Slosar". Mirek and Jarek were
our neighbors, his friends. It touched my heart for the
second time - he wanted to exchange his parents for his homeland. I had to ask
myself if it is worth doing what we were doing, but having no reasonable answer,
I stopped these thoughts pushing them deep back into subconscious and tried to convinced
him to stay with us. He finally agreed, but only because he had no other choice,
it was an agreement of necessity. How many times I asked myself how could
he know better than us what to do? He was more mature than us. And those
thoughts which I pushed back in July 1989 are coming back, in sleepless nights
and I pray to God to forgive me for what I have done. It has been five
days since they locked us here, he plays cards with friends, fortunately we have
a Lego here and some books so he feels good. We can move freely, but only on our floor,
we go for
meals downstairs accompanied by an armed officer. Once during our stay in
isolation they allowed
mothers with children to go out for a walk - in line, around the building in the park
, with an armed officer in front.
It's very hot these days, we all look
forward when they let us go to take a shower and go swimming. There is a rumor that
tomorrow they move us to the "frielager" and then to a hostel
somewhere in Austria.
There was a big storm in the afternoon. A relief after a hot day with unbearable
humidity.
There was nearly an accident in the evening. Two Polish got drunk, one of them
leant from the window and if not for the friends who caught him he would fell
from the third floor on the concrete down there... I have my own opinion on this
matter. He was handicapped, deaf and he could speak only with difficulties. They
said the same accident happened about three month ago. But there was nobody near
to catch the man. Next
day the two fellows were expelled from the camp and returned home.
10 July 1989
We woke up with hope of leaving the
isolation. We needed a shower, go out with the children get fresh air, do some
shopping and call to Australia. We do not have courage to call home. For our
parents and relatives we
are enjoying holiday. Then we learn that today we will stay here in isolation.
It is frustrating and the children start to be naughty, too. We must hope
that tomorrow...
11 July 1989
It is Tuesday morning; another
rumor has it that they will let us go on "frielager" after
breakfast. We are waiting for "achtungs" messages from the
loudspeaker on the corridor. Then something starts happening. They call some names -
I can't hear mine. But there are names of all our neighbors. I'm going to ask in the
office and hear that we are on the list as well. Hurrah, happy, we pack all the
things which belong to us and hurry downstairs to House No1. After an hour we get another set of blankets,
"eating gear" etc. What a shock. (But what is shocking here?) Everything
filthy dirty. But the biggest shock comes when they showed us to our bedroom.
The room is as big as a horse stable, approx. 40 or 50 beds inside, in them mostly Rumanians and
Turkish, on the floor rubbish ankle high, radio play some Turkish psalms, but no
empty bed. We decide to spend the
night outside under tent together with our comrades (Leitners and Ziegners). We pitched the tents at the fence, but they kicked us out
because it's eye sore for the public. So we go inside the camp on the playfield. I sleep with
my wife in the car, children in the tent and it is quite OK. Better than sleep
in the rubbish bin inside the barracks. Now we appreciate how lucky we were that we got into
the isolation, I can't imagine how we would survive on the "frielager"...
12 July 1989
We are leaving Treiskirchen. The last goodbye is a bit nervous - we did not
know what to expect, what's in front of us. We heard a lot of stories about some really bad
places from "old hand" emigrants. Finally we got some papers and a map. The red circle
shows a small village named Opponitz about 160km from Treiskirchen. It says nothing to us, never mind, let's
get out of here, let' move. It is four o'clock in the afternoon, the last sight of Treiskirchen and then we are on
the road. Three cars, three families, three fates on the move. We were again
full of expectations, breathing freely, laughing and enjoying the beautiful Austrian
countryside.
The trip took about 4 hours, before we arrived in Opponitz and stopped at a hotel Bruckwirt. The first impression was above
all our expectations. Situated among nice hills on the river Ybbs it all seemed
too good to be true. After a welcome from the owner of the hostel we were seated
downstairs in a dinning room. Emperor Franz
Josef II was looking down at us from the picture - it was like stepping back in time some 80 years or so. (I still wonder whether they knew that the Czechs
would arrive.) The meal was salty mixture of pasta and meat. But we were not
hungry. There were too many things to absorb. They gave us rooms to stay - each
family their own room - only we got two rooms - one for us, one for our children -
what a luxury after two weeks in Treiskirchen. We overcome the hardest part of
the emigration - at least we thought we did.
Some memories from Opponitz.
The time in Opponitz was like a holiday. Or even better than a holiday. We had
lots of friends, food, accommodation and nice surroundings with beautiful river
Ybbs just behind our hostel. In sunny days we went out with our children and
spent a day at the river bank, bathing, playing, talking, jumping in the water
from the rocks - we were like children. Or we took a walk to the nearby
hills with nice lookouts. In rainy days we were sitting at home (in the hostel),
reading books, talking (how many times we heard all the same stories),
learning English (and German) and waiting. Waiting for what? For the
call from our Embassy to come for an interview. This was somehow frustrating
time, because our future was uncertain. The situation in our homeland became to
deteriorate to that point that we expected a change any moment. The Soviet Union
was falling apart and with them all the brothers, like Czechoslovakia, Poland,
East Germany etc. We all were granted a temporary political asylum from the
Austrian government against the communist regime in the countries we came from,
but if the change would come while we were in Austria, we could lose it as well. So we
were eager to leave Europe behind and settle down in Canada, USA, Australia or
whatever country each of us applied for. The interview was the first step to get
a visa for travel. Based on the interview Embassy decided on
the residency status. Days and weeks were passing and we had no indication about
our future. Just one thing happened - we (our family) got a permanent status of political refugees from the Austrian
Government . This meant that we could
settle down in Austria and became Austrian citizens. I expected this, because we
had a genuine reason for emigration. First my father was a political prisoner
and our family was prosecuted since. My wife's maiden name indicated her German descent. We came to Austria and immediately applied for the
political asylum, not like many others who spent two or three weeks in Yugoslavia
at the beach and then they decided to apply for the asylum. It did not have much
value for us except of satisfaction and assurance that we could start a new life
in Austria in case we did not get the residency status in Australia.
It was Opponitz from where I called home for the first time. It was a difficult
moment to overcome I knew that my parents were grieving. I did not know
how to explain everything to them, why we fled, why we took their grandchildren
from them and why we left them at home alone. I felt depressed. Yet I knew I
had to call them once. Better now then never. My parents did not have a
telephone. So we called their neighbours and they brought them to the phone. My Dad
was easier to talk to. He was interested how we were doing, what is Austria
like, what about our children and it made the conversation much easier. My mum
was more tense. She was grieving too much and she could not hide the emotions. I
wish I could give her a hug like a little boy. Anyway, I felt I little better
after that, but the scar was very difficult to heal on both sides.
The Berlin Wall fell early in November 1989. We were still in Opponitz and
nothing to hear from the Australian Embassy. It was obvious, that the situation
in our country is going to change within days. Then it came the 17th November 1989
- a Student Day in Czechoslovakia since 1939 when nazis shot dead two students
in Prague and then closed all Czech Universities. Now the students were in the
streets again; police sealed the area, then shots were fired, water cannons
came into play and the whole nation was up. On this occasion I remember my first
year in the University in 1969 when we studied Marx-Lenin theory and the lecturer told
us that the most revolutionary class is the labor class. I opposed and said that
students are the most radical, but the lecturer cited Lenin again and thus ended
our discussion.
We followed the news from our homeland with
mixture of joy and nervousness. We were happy that the regime we hated has
fallen. On the other hand we were nervous because with the new situation in our
country we could not justify our stay here. We were free to go home. To be honest, we
were thinking about it. But there was a problem - where to go, where to stay and live.
Our flat has been taken by somebody else and to start again from scratch in Czechoslovakia would be more
difficult than in Australia. We decided we couldn't lose anything by migrating to Australia; we will learn a new language, we will get a new experience and
than we can go back home any time. (We got the lesson how wrong we were many years later, but it was too late to change it ...)
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3 July 1989
