The Journey Begins...
June 18, 1999The Crucible of War journey begins not in Bosnia, Croatia, or Serbia, but in Hungary. Director Leon Gerskovic arrives there with the plan of visiting family and meeting with refugees from the Balkans' most recent war in Serbia.
Leon's
Journal
I am on my way into Budapest from the airport. I have this strange feeling which is so very difficult to explain. It's like I have a special chip embedded inside of me which enables me to smell and feel the Eastern European mentality with a precision that makes me scared. I look inside of myself for answers. What is creating that fear? It is not fear of people or of the country but of the mentality that I am part of. I know adjustment might be difficult since my ideals and expectations created by my life in United States might have been too high.
My whole trip from the airport is a mixture of the smell of summer smog interlaced with late linden trees blooming and the images of a faulty communist architecture. Some sort of sense of longing for my past times of childhood. The roads are small and gloomy, but with colorful roadside advertisement posters selling Western goods.
So here I am in Budapest trying to record stories of Serbian refugees. But the war is really inside of me. Will I be able to record the stories of the people who are so close to me and who share the same fears and same wonders? Am I different now?
I have time to kill since my room at a friend’s house won't be ready until late in the afternoon. I take a taxi to a small hotel next to the railway station. From the outside, the Park Hotel looks just like any other building on the block. The glass entrance of the hotel has a shield from busy pedestrians going in the adjacent subway hole. A few shabby sofas and a wooden reception area make up the lobby. It is here that many refugees stay. A few older people are involved in a quiet discussion. I don't know if it's because I'm there, but their voices seem unnaturally low.
At the reception desk, I dial the number of my cousin's room. Olja is ecstatic to see me. She runs down the stairs and hugs me close. Her small build and big black eyes are the only thing that I remember of her since I haven’t seen her for over ten years.
Hiding behind Olja is a little girl with the biggest black eyes. I have been looking forward to meeting Sanja, Olja's daughter. When she sees the huge lollipop in my hand, she forgets her shyness and approaches me. The introduction is as quick as she can grab the lollipop from me. A small thank you comes a few seconds later.
I decide that first day to leave my camera in my bag. I want to try talking to people to make them feel comfortable with my presence. It is not difficult to listen. They have so much to say. They are all there in fear for their children while the bombing of Belgrade and Serbia continued. There is a sense of fear, helplessness and yet an uncanny drive for survival.
I think the hardest thing my American friends can understand is that much of Yugoslavia was developed and that many of these refugees are people who had the comforts of middle class life. I realize their living conditions in the Park Hotel are far from what they are accustomed to. Each floor shares one bathroom, which is so dirty that most of them don't even bother to take showers, but clean themselves instead with cloth and soap.
Their whole existence now centers around finding out where to receive aid and rations and when they cam return home. They spend most of the day talking and smoking. Politics and personal stories seem to be favorite topics for discussion.
My cousin seems so different. She is a medical doctor and a very book-smart person. But in this environment she is like a yo-yo, bouncing around topics, unable to hold a thread of thought for more than few seconds. It suddenly hits me that the most damaging aspect of being a refugee is that mental ambivalence and losing any vision for the future.
The second day I want to bring up interviews. I know it will be difficult to make them understand the importance of having their stories recorded. They have a poor opinion of the media in the United States, so that makes my job even more difficult. Perhaps so does my Zagreb accent. My cousin mediates conversations so that trust will remain between the other refugees and me. They are all receptive to my questions but they categorically refuse to say anything on camera.
So, I think at least I will have my cousin tell me her story in front of the camera. But that too seems to be wishful thinking. Olja tells me that I can tape their regular activities and we would talk later about an interview. So that is exactly what I do. I follow Olja around town as she shops for food and other necessities. I want to show her everyday life in exile. The footage comes out great. In the hotel, I film Olja packing for an organized return home. Sanja is curious about the camera and keeps jumping on the bed and watching herself in the reflection of the camera lens.
Even though she is only four years old, Sanja is already experiencing what it feels like to be foreign. One day, we go to the park. The Hungarian kids try to make conversation with her about toys. Unable to understand them, she just looks into space and pretends she cannot hear them. It is very sad for me to see her in that situation. People think that a child of that age cannot remember the traumas of being a refugee. But that's not true at all. Olja's mother had been a refugee during World War II. At the time, she was about the same age as Sanja She still remembers all of her hardships in exile.
Now the time comes when I ask Olja for an interview in order to support the pictures with a voice. She is quiet and tells me she is not sure she wants to do this. I am getting a little irritated but I understand that she is full of fear. I guess that fear is justified. I ask her if I could ask her some questions off-camera so that she could know what questions I will ask. She seems to be most concerned about being asked some political questions.
We do an off-camera interview and she is comfortable with it, so I suggest doing the same thing in front of camera. The answer is no. She said that she is going back home to Belgrade and whatever she says could be used against her. This is my first encounter with this form of control: fear.
As Leon deals with the mixed emotions he feels about see
ing his family living a refugee existence, he welcomes the distraction of meeting up with his crew, Rob Shire and Sandra Stojanovic.