3 July 1989 - Departure

   The car was packed ready for departure but only few knew it was a no return trip. Those few were me and my wife. The destination was - Austrian border, the "Iron Curtain" dividing our planet into two different worlds. What was behind it nobody of us knew. We hoped to find there a freedom, better future for our children, prosperity, equality and of course, new adventures in our lives. My son is singing "Bye bye my valley  my village and memory ...". It touched my heart. Why is he singing this song now, I never heard him singing it before. Is it a sign, a fate? I did not know. There were too many questions and I did not  have an answer for them. 
It everything started more then thirty years ago - on the 21st of August 1968 - I can still hear my mother when she woke me up in the morning: "You woke up into a bad day - Russians are here...". Down on the streets roamed Russian tanks, army vehicles and troops were flooding the country moving towards Prague.  From then on my life began to crumble. Not because of Russians, but because of our own people, I saw them changing their minds, changing their opinions, changing their coats ... in exchange for easy life, money and power. (... I try to recall my memories... click here if you are interested.)

   We started the car, last time we look back - at the flat we bought and lived in for ten years, the house where I was born and lived with my parents for thirty years... I drive slowly through the town, I know every corner of it. How many times I was walking in the streets dreaming about love, future and trying to solve the confusion of young life. Is it possible to wipe out 40 years of life? To start again? I have to, I can't live in this cage any more, I reached the point where everything in this society become artificial to me, no truth, no faith, no respect for human beings for their spirits and dreams. I was chocking there. But at the same time I spent there my childhood with friends and happy days that you can't forget - I was so confused.

   Few hours later we were in Mikulov - the last town before the Iron Curtain and an entry point into the New World. I know the town from my uni years - I spent a month in the local army base here. Not good memories though, hot and no water, no hygiene, diseases like hepatitis began to spread and they had to cut our stay short to avoid wide spread health problem. From the nearby hill you can see the Austrian border and behind it freedom, fields and houses so close that somebody took a hang glider here and at night jumped to the freedom.

   Once again I look back - the hour of truth is coming, The words they taught us at school are on my mind: "If you leave me, I will not die, If you leave me you will die...". But we are just tourist, my brother in law in Australia paid for all the expenses for our trip to get us out, the decision not to come back is ours. Gone are the days when people were fleeing the country on foot through the forest in rain of bullets chased by soldiers patrolling the border. The custom officers are friendly now, they are joking - a sign of the wind changing direction. Then I remember the red and white booms going up - we were free to enter the new world. I raised my arms, a driver in the oncoming car laughed and gave us a welcome, but somehow my victory was hollow - the future of all of us was on my mind.

   It takes a lot of courage to live your own life, to be what you want to be, to break the conventions and rules set up by other people and walk your own path. Only if you are willing to sacrifice all the possessions you can break the chains and set yourself free.  
   If you do not have courage to go against the crowd you never achieve anything, you will be only one of the crowd. And if you have a gift to see further than others, but you do not have enough courage to follow what you see and instead you let the crowd carry you the wrong direction than you are on the best way to an institution.

  
  Life in Austria 

   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, before 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 way ahead but we did not know that. And that was good. 

   We had no intention to enjoy our 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 a 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 an Army barracks. Around - people of all colors, races and ages dreaming about freedom, prosperity and who knows what else sitting or laying on the grass, walking in and out, around, forward and backward, some jogging, some stretching their muscles, some in an awe ... 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 from Poland, 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 us 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 had 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 a 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 place for another night. We drive through the town but we could not find a hotel. We reached end of the town and stopped. 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 turns people lives. It turned our lives. My wife spotted through the rain and rather off the road a blurry neon sign  - Motel. When I got out of the car I smelt a dead cat somewhere at the road and through my brain jettisoned a scary thought, but inside the hotel was cozy atmosphere with music playing and we got a kindly welcome. We got a nice, clean room with a 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 soulmates into the camp's main building called "Hilton". And there, on the 3rd floor - into an isolation called quarantine. We just joined the army of migrants. 
   The reason of the disappearance of some people from the waiting room in the morning was this quarantine. Sometimes they put  new migrants into the quarantine, sometimes in so called "frielager" - free camp. Those in the quarantine were not allowed to leave the hotel floor, those in the "frielager" were free to leave the camp, visit the town, do whatever they like. This morning was the quarantine 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 there, 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 the 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 stayed back home) and one misty morning he left home for work as usual, but instead of 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 in Austria ...
   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 a 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's, 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 come that he knew 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 took a Lego with us and some books so he can feel like at home. We can move only on our floor, for meals we go downstairs in groups accompanied by an armed officer. Once during our stay in this quarantine they allowed mothers with children to go out for a walk in the park - in line, around the building 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 guys 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. But he seemed to be a nice guy, quiet and smilling and I was really sorry for him, his situation was even worse that ours. They said that similar 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. Our parents and relatives think that we are enjoying our holidays. Then we learn that today we will still stay here in the isolation. It is frustrating and the children start to be difficult, 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 room. 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 browse through the room looking for empty beds - there were some empty, but scattered across the room. How could we leave our children sleep among those individuals who were watching us like a predator is watching his pray in the jungle. We decide to spend the night outside under the tent together with our friends (Leitners and Ziegners). We pitched the tents at the fence, but the officials 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 quarantine, 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 and hanged the picture on the wall on purpose.) 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 toughest 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 big and small brothers, like Czechoslovakia, Poland, East Germany etc. We all were granted a temporary political asylum from the Austrian government against the communist regime from 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 and whatever country would accept us. The interview was the first step to get a visa for travel. Based on the interview the 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 during the communist regime and our family was persecuted since. My grandfather fell for the Austrian-Hungarian empire on Italian front in 1914 or so and my wife's maiden name indicated her German roots. Another positive thing for us was, that we applied for the political asylum immediately after we crossed the border to Austria not like many others who spent two or three weeks in Yugoslavia at the beach and then they decided to apply for the political asylum. However, our political status of refugees 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 have 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 ...)

   How many times you have to fall and get up again, how many ups and downs you have to overcome, how many books you have to read to reach some wisdom and inner peace?

   Leaving The Old Continent

   An interview at Australian ambassy took place in December 1989. The result was better than we expected. We were granted status of refugees and permanent residency in Australia. The psychological load had been liffted. We had to learn English as much as we could. Somebody told us about a school for refugees near Vienna. The school was funded and run by the American Funds For Refugees and they accepted evrybody going to any English speaking country. I made a phone call and booked a place for our family. This meant to move from our hostel in the beautiful hills into a small town called Neuhaus about 30 km from Vienna. We packed everything into our small Skoda car and left for new adventures just before Christmas 1989 in the middle of Austrian Winter.

    Hotel D' Orange looked impressive, with people from all walks of life, hoping to catch some opportunity they missed in their lives before. We tried to blend in.
The teachers were mostly Americans, very friendly people, with lots of humor and understanding for migrants. They taught us not only English language, but basic survival skills necessary to overcome the culture shock in our new destinations. We were streamed into four grades based on our English knowledge - from English for dummies to those brushing their conversational skills. There was lots of fun and new friends during our time in Neuhaus. I remember well our shopping trips to a nearby shopping centre through the forrest to buy a bottle of cheap wine to cheer up our long evenings, Sunday trips to the hills with nice lookouts and scary ladders in the rocks, all that is imprinted in my mind forever.

   Then the government machine of emigration processing kicked off. Envelopes from embassies with visas and departure dates started coming more frequently. Suddenly from emigrants became residents of the U.S.A., Canada, Australia or South Africa. Hearts were filled with new hopes and new expectations - dreams were coming true - America and the cities never going to sleep, Australia and the white beaches and blue ocean, Canada with its mountains, South Africa with its exotic nature - everyone saw himself right there - life on the posters and in the movies were on many minds. But it's time to pack and say goodbye to friends - last hug and kiss, last handshake, last contact through the bus window before the bus disappeared - and the ties were cut off - those on the bus started a new life, those left behind still waiting for their luck. And yet, I think that for some the stay in Austria was the last safe and enjoyable part of their life ...
   We were the last from our group to leave hotel D' Orange. Our departure date was 29 May 1990. We were trying to soak as much of Europe as we could before leaving it - the last trip to the hills, the last trip to Baden, the last visit from our family, the last goodbye and the last night before departure to the new world. It is hard to describe the mixture of feelings when you are leaving the old continent behind and going to a new unknown land - forever. Austria made a great impact on us, especially on me, the mountains, the towns, the history is magnificent and despite of being refugees, living on the account of Austrian people, we felt their kindness and help. The thoughts of staying in Austria were often on our minds, we got a chance to stay and live in Austria, but we decided to go to Australia. One of my reasons was that life in Austria was somehow too similar to the life we left behind. And I wanted to cut it off and start a new life from scratch. To get one more chance to prove that I could achieve something. So we boarded a plane at Vienna airport and left the old continent slowly shrinking and covered in clouds behind.