53SPRING 2010

www.benevolencija.eu.org/salon

BULLETIN OF JEWISH SOCIETY“THE FRIENDS OF LA BENEVOLENCIJA”

BILTEN JEVREJSKE ZAJEDNICE“PRIJATELJI LA BENEVOLENCIJE”

POZIV

THE BULLETIN IS SPONSORED BY JEWISH CARE

Ranije smo vas nekolikoputa pozivali da nam {aljetepriloge za SaLon. Uvijek namje drago kada nam se javljate.Ovaj put idemo i dalje pa vampredla`emo temu o kojoj bistemogli ne{to nap isat i: Va{omiljeni nastavnik. Sigurnismo da }e to kod vas evociratimnoga d raga, zabavna izanimljiva sje}anja. Pa za{to ihne bi podjelili sa nama? Da vamdamo malo podstreka izabralismo jedan odlomak iz knjige“Pri~a o ljubavi i tami” koju jenapisao Amos Oz, poznatiizraelski pisac.Gospodin Avisar, nastavnikgeografije, bi nas vodio sasobom na putovan ja punaavantura u Galileju, Negev,T r a n s j o r d a n i j u ,Mesopotamiju, do piramida ivise}ih vrtova Babilona, sve touz pomo} zidnih mapa ipovremeno pohabane laternemagike. Gospodin Najmanmla|i bi nam deklamovaobijes proroka u gromoglasnimkaskadama, nakon ~ega biodmah uslijedili blagi tokoviutjehe. Gospodin Monzon,nastavnik engleskog je ukivaou nas nepromjenjivu razlikuizme|u “I do”, “I did”, “I havedone”, “I hve been doing”, “Iwould have done”, „I shouldhave done, i “I should havebeen do ing”: „^ak i kraljEngleske li~no!“ Grmio bi onkao Gospod sa Sinajske gore,„~ak ^er~il! [ekspir! GariKuper! – svi po{tu ju ovapravila jezika ne t ra`e}iispriku, a samo ste vi, uva`enigospodine Abulafia, o~iglednoiznad zakona! [ta, zar ste iznad^er~ila? Jeste li iznad[ekspira?! Da li ste iznad kraljaEngleske? Sramota!Vi stesramotni! Sada molim da cijelirazred obrati pa`nju na ovo,zapi{ite i neka bude ispravno.

To je sramota, alivi, veoma uva`eni gospodineAbulafia vi ste sramotni!“Ali je meni najdra`i nastavnikbio gospodin Mikael i,Mordehaj Mikaeli, ~ije su mekeruke uvijek mirisale kao da subile ruke plesa~a, a lice mu jebilo smeteno, kao da se uvijekne~ega stidio; obi~avao je dasjedne, skine {e{ir i stavi ga nakatedru ispred sebe, namjestisvoju kapicu, pa mjesto da nasbombarduje znanjem provodioje sate pri~aju}i nam pri~e. OdTalmuda bi pre{ao naukrajinske narodne pri~e, aonda bi se iznenada bacio nagr~ku mitologiju, beduinskepri~e i Jidi{ „slepstik“, pa binastavljao dok ne bi stigao doBra}e Grim i Hansa KristijanaAndersena i do svojih vlastitihpri~a koje je sastavljao, kao ija, dok ih je pri~ao.Ve}ina dje~aka u mom razreduje koristila dobrotu irastresenost slatkog gospodinaMikaelija pa bi zadrijemali nanjegovom ~asu, glavanaslonjenih na ruke naklupama. Ponekada bi jednidrugima dodavali ceduljice ilibi ~ak bacali loptice papiraizme|u klupa.Gospod inMikaeli to nije primje}ivao, ilimu mo`da nije ni bilo stalo.Ni meni nije bilo stalo. Menebi dr`ao prikovanog svojimklonulim, dobrodu{nim o~imai samo je meni pri~ao svojepri~e. Ili samo nekolicini naskoj i ne bi skidali o~i sanjegov ih usana, koje suizg ledale kao da stvaraju~itave svjetove pred na{imo~ima.Redakcija

INVITATIONOn several occasions in thepast we invited you to send usyour contributions for SaLon.As ever we would be happy tohear from you. This time wewould like to suggest a themefor your writings: Your Favour-ite Teacher. We are sure thatthis brings back many fond,enjoyable and entertainingmemories. Why not share themwith us? To start you we haveselected a passage from a “Taleof Love and Darkness” byAmos Oz, a well known Israeliauthor.Mr Avisar, the geographyteacher, would take us with himon adventure-laden trips toGalilee, the Negev, Trans-Jor-dan, Mesopotamia, the pyra-mids and the hanging gardensof Babylon, with the aid of wallmaps and occasionally a bat-tered magic lantern. Mr Neimanjunior declaimed the fury of theprophets at us in thunderouscascades, followed at once bygentle rivulets of comfort andconsolation. Mr Monzon, theEnglish teacher, hammered intous the eternal difference be-tween “I do”, “I did” “I havedone”, “I have been doing”, “Iwould have done”, “I shouldhave done” and “I should havebeen doing”. “Even the King ofEngland in person!”, he wouldthunder like the Lord fromMount Sinai, “even Churchill!Shakespeare! Gary Cooper! – allobey these rules of languagewith no excuses, and only you,honourable Sir, Mister Abulafia,are apparently above the law!What, are you above Church-ill? Are you above Shake-speare?! Are you above the

King of England?! Shame onyou! Disgrace! Now please notethis, pay attention all the class,write it down, get it right: It is ashame, but you, the Right Hon-ourable Master Abulafia, youare a disgrace”.But my favourite teacher of allwas Mr Michaeli, MordechaiMichael, whose soft handswere always perfumed like adancer’s and whose face wassheepish, as though he was for-ever ashamed of something; heused to sit down take off hishat and put it on the desk infront o him, adjust his little skull-cap, and, instead of bombard-ing us with knowledge, hewould spend hours telling usstories. From the Talmud hewould move on to Ukrainianfolk tales, and then he wouldplunge suddenly into Greekmythology, Bedouin stories andYiddish slapstick, and he wouldgo until he came to the tales ofthe Brothers Grimm and HansChristian Andersen and hisown stories, that he composedjust like me, telling them.Most of the boys in my classtook advantage of sweet MrMichaeli’s good nature and ab-sent-mindedness, and theydozed through his lessons withtheir heads resting on their armson the desk. Or sometimes theypassed notes around or eventossed a paper ball between thedesks: Mr Michaeli did not no-tice, or perhaps he did not care.I did not care either. He fixed mewith his weary, kindly eyes andtold his stories to me alone. Orjust to two or three of us, whodid not take our eyes off hislips, which seemed to be creat-ing entire worlds in front of oureyes.Publishing Board

Ljudske aktivnosti mogu seizvoditi: svjesno, nesvjesno ipodsvjesno . Podru~jepodsvjesnog je va`no uist ra`ivanj ima i teorijamaSigmunda Frojda (psiho-analiza) i drugih nau~nika.^ovjek ne{to radi, zastupa,osje}a, a ne zna ili mu nijejasno za{to, koji su motivi,korijeni tih aktivnosti, stavova,pogleda, itd. U stvari, osnova-kori jen je skriven u na{ojpodsvjesti, pa o tome nismosv jesn i. Prodori u na{upodsvijest mogu biti raznido`ivljaji, uticaj pojedinaca,grupe, djelovanje propagandeitd. Poznata je tvrdnja; kadaneko pet puta ponovi istu la`,{esti put i sam povjeruje dagovori istinu. Antisemitskapropaganda je surova,neljudska, svirepa la`, kojanaj~e{}e navodi da su Jevrejiro|eni lihvari , sebi~n i,gramzivi, prljavi, nemilosrdni,{krti, nedru{tveni, pohlepni zazlatom i novcem itd.

Neki ljudi, nesvjesni svojihpostupaka, {to mo`e bi tiprodukt podsvjesnog, bivajuna antisemitskim pozicijama,iako su svjesno pro tivant isemitizma, ~ak i o{troosu|uju antisemitizam. Takvepojave mogu biti uslijed raznihsituacija, uticaja propagande,pol iti~kih zbivanja, pa ineznanja.

U tom svijetlu iznijet }u nekeslu~ajeve mog susreta satakvim antisemitizmom.

SLU^AJ 1. p rije mnogogodina u na{im bosansko-hercegova~k im novinamapro~itao sam ~lanak, otprilikeovog sadr`aja: lijepa, mladacrnokosa djevojka, arapkinja,plavih o~iju kao bistro nebo,raspjevana kao pro lje}e,vra}ala se ku}i poslije rada kaou~iteljica. U blizini njene ku}eiska~u pripadnici MOSAD-a isa niz metaka iz automata ubijuto mlado l ijepo l judskostvorenje. Iz ku}e je dotr~aonjen otac i nad mrtvim tijelomsvog djeteta , van sebe od tuge,nije mogao progovoriti nijednu rije~, samo je bolnojecao. U tom ~lanku navodi semjesto doga|aja i ime tedjevojke. Poslije nekogvremena do{la je u posjetumoja rodica iz Izraela i odmah

sam joj pokazao navedeni~lanak i up itao je da li jemogu}e da je navedenoistinito. Odgovoreno mi je daje sve istinito , samo n ijenaveden razlog ubistva. Tadjevojka, iako je u~iteljica,podmetnula je bombu uautobus kojim su prevo`enadje~ica Izraela u obdani{te. Zarnije tako napisan novinski~lanak stravi~an, nekorektan,antisemitski akt? Ovo nijeprodukt podsvjesnog, pa ninesvjesnog, ve} tendenciozno-svjesno napisano sa prljavimpoliti~kim ciljem!

SLU^AJ 2. Studirao sam naRijeci na Fakultetuindustrijske pedagogije.Prilikom studi jaoformljena je neformalnagrupa, kojoj sam i ja

pripadao. Zajedno samnom bila su i dvaZagorca, iz zabitog dijelaHrvatske. Jednomprilikom jedan Zagorac jerakao drugome: 'Kaj si prljavko @idov!' Ja nisam bio siguranda sam dobro ~uo pa nisamreagovao. Drugom prilikom jeisti taj rekao svom drugu: 'Kajsi bedast ko @idov!'. Sad sambio siguran da sam sve ta~no~uo. Tada sam mu rekao:'Kolega, pa ja sam @idov, da lisam ja prljav ili bedast?'. On sezapanjio, postidio i rekao:'Nemre to bit, ustvari ja i neznam ko su @idovi, ja nikadanisam videl @idova. U momkraju, sve kaj je lo{e, kaj nevalja, pripisuje se @idovima'.Rekao je da ne zna razlog niizvore odakle i od kada poti~utakve tvrdnje (dogodilo se to1955 godine). To je o~itoproizvod sistematskean tisemitske propagande

propagande tokom II svjetskograta, koja je ostavila duge iduboke korijene! Mnogo seizv injavao i sasvim jepromijenio mi{l jenje o@idovima.

SLU^AJ 3. Na istoj {kolizajedno sam radio sanastavnikom mojih godina.Dobro smo se slagali i dru`ili.Jednom prilikom pozvao me jeu svoju ku}u na kafu, {to samprihvatio. U ku}i smo zateklinjegovog oca koji je b ioprili~no star, rado je pri~ao isvom govoru p ridavao jeveliku va`nost. Opisao nam jestanje tridesetih godina

dvadesetog vijeka kada jebila ekonomska kriza.

Morao je izvr{iti nekuup latu , a nije imao

novaca. Postojala jeopasnost da mu

bude oduzeta ku}a

i du}an ako ne izvr{inesretnu uplatu. Tra`io

je pozajmicu na svestrane, ali navodno niko

nije imao (ili nije htio) da muu toj situaciji dade novac nazajam. Sjet io se trgovca,kom{ije Davida Koena i do{aokod njega sa molbom zapozajmicu. David mu je rekaoda on nema toliko novaca, alida}e mu garantno pismo sakoj im t reba da ode kodpoznatog mostarskogbogata{a, a njegovog prijatelja[aina i on }e na osnovunjegove pismene garancije datitra`enu pozajmicu. Tako se idogodilo. Tada je rekao: 'Divniplemeniti David Koen, spasiome je od st ra{ne nesre}e,vje~no sam mu zahvalan'!

Poslije nekog vremena po`aliose sinu da mu ne{to sa strujomnije u redu . Sin me jepreporu~io da ode u preduze}eElektro-Hercegovinu kod

Cipra Erne, ona }emu poslati nekoga daotkloni kvar. Na to je on saga|enjem rekao: 'Je li kod one]ifutke'? Ja sam bio spremanda reagujem, ali kada sam vidiomoga kolegu, ne samo da jepoblijedio nego je o~ajni~kibuljio u mene, odustao sam odbilo kakavog komentara. Tadaje i otac uvidio kakvu je gre{kuizrekao, probao se je dostanespretno opravdati. Iako jesmatrao Jevreja Davida Koenanajplemeniti jim ~ovjekomMostara, antisemitska propa-ganda uspjela je u njegovupodsvjest unijeti odbojnost, pai ga|enje prema Jevrejima.

SLU^AJ 4 . Prisustvovao samjednom pril ikom nekojsl ikarskoj izlo`b i. Posli jeodre|enog vremena formiranesu grup ice koje su vodi leraznolike diskusije. U na{ojgrupi bio je nepoznati mla|islikar koji je insistirao daispri~a vic. Evo tog vica: Zavri jeme II svjetskog rata,nejevrej kom{ija pristane dasakrije u svoj podrum jevrejskuporodicu a da oni plate tuuslugu zlatnim dukatom svakoodre|eno vrijeme (Jevreji suUVIJEK puni zlata,dukata??!!). Tako je tajgra|anin zahval juju}iskrivenim Jevrejima, odnosnodukatima, odli~no `ivio. Kadase zavr{io rat, on je i daljerasko{no `ivio. Na pitanjekom{ija odakle mu sadasredstva za tako dobar `ivotodgovorio je: 'Pa nisam lud daim ka`em da se je rat zavr{io'!Kroz moju svijest prohujala susje}anja na strahote koje samli~no do`ivio tokom tog rata.Stravi~ne do`ivljaje opisane udnevniku Ane Frank, skrivanjei stradanja mnogih Jevreja,strahote stalnog `ivljenja upodrumu uz neprestani strah dali }e biti otkriveni i ubijeni itd.Na `alost, neki iz grupe su senasmijali tom vicu a ja samljutito rekao: 'Kakva gadost,fuj ' i napustio izlo`bu uz~u|enje glupavog slikara.Na `alost i danas su prisutni umnogim dijelovima svijetaan tisemitizam, vjerska,nacionalna, rasna itd. mr`nja,netrpeljivost, pa ~estitim,humanim, razumnim ljudima sename}e potreba i obavezaakt ivnog i energi~nogsurotstavljanja tom zlu.

Cezar Zadik Danon

MOJI SUSRETI SA ANTISEMITIZMOM

Human activities might be con-scious, unintentional or sub-conscious. The subconsciousstates of mind were very impor-tant in the researches and theo-ries of Sigmund Freud (psy-choanalysis) and other scien-tists. A man does, advocates,or feels something not know-ing or not being aware of theunderlying motives for suchactions, attitudes or positions.Actually the origins - the rootsare hidden in our subconsciouswithout us being aware of it.Our subconscious can be pen-etrated by various events; un-der the influence of individualsor groups, or by propaganda.It is well known that when some-body repeats the same lie fivetimes, he believes it when hedoes it for the sixth time. Theanti-Semitic propaganda is acruel inhumane and brutal liethat almost always states thatthe Jews are usurers by birth,that they are selfish, dirty, ruth-less, mean, non-social, greedyfor gold and money etc.Sometimes, even though theycondemn anti-Semitism as such,people take anti-Semitic posi-tions unaware of the fact, be-cause that might be the prod-uct of their subconscious. Thismight be the result of varioussituations; the effect of propa-ganda; political events andeven lack of knowledge.Keeping this in mind I will men-tion a few cases of my encoun-ters with such anti-Semitism.CASE No 1: Many years ago Ifound in our Bosnia andHerzegovina papers an articlewhich read something like this:a beautiful young Arab girl withblack hair and eyes like a clearblue sky, her song like the bestday of spring was coming backhome from school where shewas a teacher. Close to herhouse Mossad members jumpout from hiding and with a fewbullets killed that beautifulyoung human being. Her fatherran out of the house. Besidehimself with sorrow, he was notable to utter a word over thebody of his dead child. He onlysobbed. The article mentionedthe name of the place where ithappened and the name of thegirl. Some time later my cousinfrom Israel came to visit me. Ishowed her the mentioned arti-

cle asking her whether it reallywas true. She answered thateverything was true. The onlything missing from the articlewas the reason for the killing.Although a teacher, that girlplanted a BOMB on the bus onwhich Israeli nursery childrenwere travelling. Is not an articlewritten in this way a terrible,incorrect anti-Semitic act? Thatwas not subconscious or unin-tentional but consciously writ-ten on purpose with a dirty po-litical intention.CASE No 2: I was a student atthe Faculty for Teaching in In-dustry in Rijeka. I joined an in-

formal group which was estab-lished during my studies. Twoyoung people from a remote partof Croatia belonged to thegroup as well. On one occasionone said to the other: “Look atyou, you are as dirty as a Jew!”I was not sure that I heard itcorrectly and thus did not re-act. On another occasion he saidagain: “You are as stupid as aJew!” Then I was sure of what Iheard and I said: “I am a Jew,mate. Am I dirty or stupid?” Hewas stunned and embarrassed:“It can’t be so; actually I do notknow who the Jews are: I havenever seen a Jew. In my part ofthe world anything bad is at-tributed to Jews”. He said thathe does not know the reasons

or the origins for that. (This tookplace in 1955). It was obviouslythe result of systematic anti-Semit ic propaganda duringWorld War Two with deep andlong-lasting roots. He apolo-gized a lot and completelychanged his mind about theJews.CASE No3: I got well with acolleague at the school that Iwas teaching. I accepted oncethe invitation to have coffee athis house. There was his fatherwho was quite old at that time.He was a willing talker andthought much of what he said.He described the situation dur-ing the economic crisis duringthe thirties of the last century.

He had to pay for something buthad no money to do so. Therewas a danger of loosing bothhis house and his shop if he didnot make that unfortunate pay-ment. He tried to get a loan fromwhoever would give it to him,but allegedly nobody had (ordid not want) to give him themoney in such a situation. Heremembered his neighbourDavid Koen, the shopkeeperand went to him to ask for aloan. David told him that he didnot have the money but waswilling to give him a guaranteeletter to take to his friend [ain,the well known rich man ofMostar. And so it was. Then hesaid: “This great, generousDavid Koen saved me of a grave

misfortune, I amgrateful to him for-ever!”A while later he said to his sonthat he had some problems withthe electricity at his house. Theson told him to go to Erna Cipraat the Electrical Utility Companyand that she would send some-body to remove the problem. Inanswer to this he said with dis-gust: “Is her that dirty Jew?” Iwas on the verge of saying some-thing, but when I saw that mycolleague turned completely palewhile gazing at me with despair Ichanged my mind. At the samemoment his father realized themistake and awkwardly tried tofind an explanation. Although heconsidered that the Jew DavidKoen was the most generous manof Mostar, the anti-Semitic propa-ganda managed to penetrate hissubconscious creating repulsionand disgust with Jews.CASE No 4: After viewing an ex-hibition people formed chattinggroups. I joined one of thesegroups in which a young un-known painter told us the follow-ing joke: During World War Twoa non Jewish neighbour agreedto hide a Jewish family in hisbasement and they were to payfor this service with a goldencoin at certain intervals (Jews areALWAYS packed full ofgold??!!). That is how this citi-zen had a comfortable life thanksto the hidden Jews, actually thegolden money. When the war wasover he went on with the lavishlife. When asked by his neigh-bours where did he get the moneyfor such luxuries he answered: “Iam not a fool to tell them that thewar is over!” At that moment allthe horrors of the war that I expe-rienced went through my mind. Iremembered the dreadful eventsdescribed in Ana Frank diary, thehidings and the sufferings ofnumerous Jews, the misery ofcontinuous life in a basement ac-companied by fear that they willbe discovered and killed. Regret-fully, some people in the grouplaughed. I said angrily: “How dis-gusting!” and left the exhibition.The stupid painter was puzzled.It is disappointing that anti-Semitism, religious, national andracial hatred and intolerance stillexist nowadays in many parts ofthe world so that all the honest,humane and sensible peopleworldwide feel that it is neces-sary to actively and vigorouslyconfront this evil.Cezar Zadik Danon

MY ENCOUNTERS WITH ANTISEMITISM

Front page of the “Protocol of the wise men of Zion”

Kad je Vankuver dob ioorganizaciju XIX OlimpijskihIgara radovao sam se kao ive}ina sugra|ana. Zna~ilo je toda }e par godinagrad b iti jednoveliko gradili{te ali}emo poslije togaimati jo{ ljep{i i~ovjeku primjerengrad. I stvarno gradje do~ekaotakmi~are i brojnegoste u re|en iumiven sa novimavenijama i novomlinijom gradskogmetroa ko jidjelimi~no ide nadzemljom adjelimi~no podzemljom a zove se'Sky Train'. Malosam bio zbun jent o mkoincidencijom dagdje god se jan a s t a n i morganizuje sezimska olimpijada. Kako jeSarajevo nakon olimpijadepro{lo kroz ratni pakao, zatrenutak pomislih na taj slijeddoga|aja, olipijada - rat, alibrzo odagnah zle misli i vratihse nostalgi~nim sje}anjima nadane kad je Sarajevo bilo centarsvijeta.Biv{e Sarajlije, danas gradjanisvijeta, sje}aju se sa sjetom alii ponosom onih dana prije 26godina kada je Sarajevo bilocentar svi jeta. Ne samoskija{ka borili{ta na Jahorini ,Bjela{nici i Igmanu, arene naZetri i Skenderiji nego i cijeligrad, sarajevske ulice, kafi}i,restorani, izgledali su takolijepo dotjerani. Sje}am se te

atmosfere, tog uzbu|enja,Sarajevo je bilo kao i svakidrugi Evropski grad, punostranih takmi~ara i turista, svinasmijani, veseli razmiljeli sepo Ba{~ar{i ji u potrazi zasuvenir ima, u`ivaju u

arhitekturi sudara Istoka iZapada. Sje}am se sve~anogotvaranja na stadionu Ko{evo,valjda jedine zimske igre ~ijeje otvaranje bilo na fudbalskomstadionu, kada jegradona~eln ik SarajevaUglje{a Uzelac kao prvi mahaoolimpijskom zastavom {to sukasnije preuzeli i drugigradona~elnici.Sje}am se tih dana u februaru1984. godine, a naro~i topredve~erja i no}i kad smotumarali gradom od Ba{~ar{ijedo Skenderije, podjele medaljana platou ispred Skenderije,posebno one no}i kada jejed ini na{ olimpijac Ju reFranko dobio srebro za slalom.

Vidio sam transparent «VolimoJureka vi{e od bureka» {to jekasnije preuzeto kao slogankojim smo skandirali bodre}ina{e olimpijce.

Nisam sportski tip, nikad se

nisam aktivno bavio nekimsportom, ali i pored toga ja jakovolim sport. Na sarajevskojolimpijadi gledao sam samojednu hokeja{ku utakmicu .Sre}a je da postoji televizijatako da ljudi poput mene, kojiiskreno vole sport, mogu bar dapasivno u~estvuju. Tek poslijeol impi jade oti{ao sam naJahorinu da u`ivo vidim ono{to sam pratio na televiziji.Prekrasan sun~ani dan, nebovedro, plavo, snijeg blje{ti dase ne mo`e normalno gledati.U Rajskoj do lini mno{tvoskija{a, spu{taju se polaku ucik caku niz padinu o~i tou`ivaju}i u trenutku. Nekisamo stoje, sun~aju se i kao na

OLIMPIJADA nekoj revi jipokazuju novuskija{ku opremu. Tusmo moj kum Mo{e Altarac(takodje cijepljen za sport,)od jeveni potpunoneprimjereno u gradskaodijela, bez ikakve skija{keopreme kao da smo zalutali naneku sve}anost na koju nismopozvani. Nas dvojica, uva`eniin`enjer i drug profesor, ve}ozbiljni sredovje~ni ljudi aliskloni razli~itim {eretlucima,sjednemo na plasti~ne keseumjesto sanki i spustimo se nizpadinu. Naravno bilo je dostanegodovanja skija{a u ~emu seposebno isticala MirjanaJan~i}, TV spikerica uprelijepom svijetlo ljubi~astomskija{kom odijelu. Danas se

~esto sjetim tog vikenda i sa`aljenjem konstatujem da mojkum i ja nismo patentirali na{izum. Sad se u Vankuverumogu kupit i “sanke”napravljene samo od jedneplasti~ne plo~e savijene malou polukrug sa prednje strane.

Uglavnom sam dobropripremljen do~ekaoolimpijske igre u Vankuveru;nekoliko kartona Heinikena inovi (plain) tanki televizor od37 in~a. Za ostalo, mislim za“meze support” brinula segospo|a supruga. I tako dobropripremljen kao mladpenzioner gledao sam ba{ svaolimpijska takmi~en jauklju~uju}i i currling. Gledaosam sve~ano otvaran je(zastavom je mahao na{gradona~elnik g. Robertson) isve~ano zatvaranje, jo{sve~anije dodjele odli~ja ali iprenose sa ulica Vankuvera.

Like many other fellow citizensI was glad when Vancouver wasawarded the organisation of theXIX Olympic Games. It meantthat the city would be a hugebuilding site for several yearsbut after that we would have aneven more appealing city moreadequate for human living. Andindeed, the immaculately tidiedup city welcomed the athletesand the numerous guests withits new avenues and “The SkyTrain” - the new undergroundline which runs partly under-ground and partly over ground.I was baffled a bit by the coin-cidence that Winter OlympicGames were being organizedwherever I settled. The fact thatthe hell of the war fell uponSarajevo following the OlympicGames just fo r a momentbrought to my mind the orderof events: Olympic Games –War. Nevertheless, I quicklydrove away these bad thoughtsand went back to the nostalgicreminiscences of the days whenSarajevo was the centre of theworld.Former citizens of Sarajevo,now citizens of the world, rec-ollect both with longing andwith pride the days of twentysix years ago when Sarajevowas the centre of the world. Notonly the skiing venues onJahorina, Bjela{nica and Igmanmountains, the Zetra andSkenderija arenas but the wholecity, Sarajevo streets, cafés andrestaurants were all in top form.I still can remember the atmos-phere, the enthusiasm. Like anyother European city, Sarajevowas full of foreign competitorsand tourists; all of them laugh-ing and happily wanderingthrough Ba{~ar{ija looking for

souvenirs and en-joying the architec-ture of the buildings on whichEast met West. I can rememberthe Opening Ceremony atKo{evo Stadium, probably theonly Winter Games with theOpening Ceremony performedon a football stadium. Uglje{aUzelac, the mayor of Sarajevowas the first to wave the Olym-pic flag, a gesture taken on laterby other mayors. I can remem-ber those days of February1984, especially the eveningsand nights that would take usstrolling from Ba{~ar{ija toSkenderija to be present at theawarding of the medals at theplatform in front of Skenderija.The highlight was the nightwhen Jure Franko, our only Ol-ympian won his silver for Sla-lom.I am not a man of sports. I nevertook active part in any of thesports. Nevertheless I likesport. During the Sarajevo Ol-ympic Games I watched onlyone hockey game. Luckily forpeople like me who genuinelylike sport, there is the televisionenabling us to passively takepart. Only after the Olympicsdid I go to Jahorina to see thevenue for all the events that Isaw on TV. It was a beautifulsunny day with clear blue skiesand it was not possible to lookat the glimmering snow. Themost popular valley wascrowded with skiers joyfullyzigzagging down the slopes.Some of them were just stand-ing and sun bathing and as if ata catwalk they showd their newskiing gear. Only MosheAltarac, my best friend (alsonot into sports) and I were com-pletely inadequately dressed inour formal outfits and looked as

OLYMPICSMnogo moji sarajevskiprijatelji, gradjani, rasuti {iromsvijeta, gledaju}i TV prenosetra`ili su me ne bi li me ugledalime|u publikom. Uzalud imtrud; nisam bio ni na jednomtakmi~enju, cijene ulaznica subile takve da si to nisam mogao“affordati” .

I tako , sjede}i p red TVekranom zapitam se kakva jemoja prednost kao gra|aninaVankuvera, dakle doma}inaigara, u poredjenju sa mojimprijateljima londonsk imsarajlijama koji takodje sjedepred ekranima a hiljadamamilja udal jeni od centrazbivanja. Nije valjda jedinarazlika {to oni konzumirajuGinis. Peti ili {esti dan, sad

svejedno, odlu~im da si|em udowntown (centar) Vankuverai da svojim vlastitim o~ima i~ulima, vidim i osjetim u`ivo,olimpijsku atmosferu uVankuveru i eventualnonapravim neko poredjenje saSarajevom.

Danima pred olimpijadu su nasgradski oci upozoravali da zavrijeme Olimpijade ne idemou downtown kolima bez velikenu`de te da koristimo publictransportation. Tako sam stigaopodzemnim skytrainom udowntown i odmah se uklju~io.Stotine hi ljada ljudi naulicama, idu, guraju se u svimpravcima. Jedva se probijamprema mjestu gdje plamteolimpijske baklje (pet komada).Svi sa digitalnim kameramasnimaju jedan drugog i sveuokolo, snimaju mene a bogmei ja njih. [arenilo boja majica itrenerki. Na nekoliko mjesta ugradu ogromne pozornice sa“live music” gdje se smjenjuju

rok grupe a ispred se ljuljaju uritmu h iljade mladih..Woodstock. Neko od ovda{njihreportera je napisao da se uVankuveru svake ve~eri odvijaparti za 500.000 ljudi.

Sve je u Vankuveru bilo nekakouve}ano, veliko i podimenzi jama i po brojuu~esnika, gostiju i turista mahomju`nih susjeda. Suveniri, majicetrenerke, {alovi i druge |in|uvekupovani su ne na komad negona tuce. Tako je na primjer glavnisuvenir, crvene vunene rukavicesa olimpijskim znakom prodanu vi{e od milion primjeraka.Uspio sam, prije nego {to surasprodane, da po{aljemnekoliko pari kao sje}anje nekimsarajl ijama u Sarajevu i

sarajlijama- {irom svijeta.

***

Olimpi jada je mal i gradSarajevo, smje{tenog izvanglavnih evropsk ih puteva,pribli`ila Evropi. Mada je i ranijebilo iskoraka iz Sarajevu napolju privrede, zabavne muzikei filma, tek je Olimpijada u~inilaSarajevo Evropom. Vankuver,multietni~ki, multi kulturalni,multi konfesionalni megapolisodjednom je sa Olimpijadom.

A postao i kanadsk i.Vakuver~ani , kao da su saol impi jadom otkril i svojnacionalni identitet. Moglo se tovidjeti po navijanju na svimtakmi~en jima, uklju~uju}i icurrling, gdje se zdu{no navijaloza nacionalne boje i za javorovlist.

Kao novi kanadjanin, priklju~imse iz moje fotelje sa ”Go Canada,go! “ A srce , ono je ostalo uSarajevu.

Albi Papo

though we crashed into some-body’s party. The two of us, arespected engineer and univer-sity professor, already sinceremiddle aged people but still in-clined to larking about sat ontoplastic bags and went sledgingdown the slope. Many skiersrightly complained about thatof course; notable among themwas Mirjana Jan~i}, a TV pre-senter in a stunning light pur-ple skiing gear. I think often ofthat week end now and regretthat my friend and I were notclever enough then to take outa patent for our invention.Nowadays it is possible to buy

“sledges” made of a plasticsheet bent slightly at the frontend.I would say that I was well pre-pared for the Vancouver Games:several boxes of Heiniken anda new plasma 37 inch TV set.The rest, here I refer to “snacksupport” was the responsibil-ity of the lady of the house.Equipped well as I was I, theyoung pensioner watched allthe events without exception,including curling. I saw theOpening Ceremony (the flagwas waved by Mr. Robertson,our mayor) and the Closing Cer-emony; I saw the awarding ofmedals ceremonies but also re-ports from the streets of Van-couver. Many of my friends andfellow citizens from Sarajevonow scattered all over the worldwatching the TV broadcastssearched for me among the pub-lic. Their efforts were in vain; I

was present at not even onecompetition. The prices of thetickets were such that I couldnot afford them. Sitting so infront of the TV screen I askedmyself what is my advantage asa citizen of Vancouver, the hostcity as compared to my friends,the London “Sarajevans” alsositting by their TV sets thou-sands of miles away from thecentre of the happenings. Is theonly difference the fact thatthey drink Guinness instead?On the fifth or the sixth day Ihad decided to go to Vancou-ver downtown and actually seeand feel the Olympic atmos-

phere of Vancouver and if pos-sible to compare it to what I hadexperienced in Sarajevo.For many days before the Ol-ympics we were told by our cityfathers not to go to downtownby cars except in urgency butto use public transportation.Thus, using the undergroundsky train I reached the down-town and joined the crowd im-mediately. Hundreds of thou-sands of people were on thestreets – walking and pushingin all directions. With difficultyI pressed on towards the placewhere the Olympic torches wereburning (five of them). Usingtheir digital cameras everybodywas taking pictures of the oth-ers and of their surroundings;they also take my picture but Icertainly take their pictures aswell. The sweatshirts and thetracksuits show a melange ofcolours. There are huge stages

in several places in the city withlive music performed by rockgroups appearing one after an-other while thousands ofyoungsters in front of themmove by their rhythm.

Woodstock. One of the localreporters wrote that 500,000people party in Vancouver eachnight. Everything was some-how inflated in Vancouver, withenlarged dimensions and in-creased numbers of partici-pants, guests and tourists –mainly our southern neigh-bours. Sweatshirts, tracksuits,scarves and other similar sou-venirs were not sold by piecebut by dozens. Thus for in-stance the sale of red woollengloves with the Olympic sym-bol – the principal souvenir ofthe games surpassed one mil-lion. Before they were sold outI managed to buy several pairsand send them to people inSarajevo and Sarajevo peopleworldwide.* * *

The Olympic Gamesbrought Sarajevo, asmall city away frommain European routs, closer toEurope. It is true that even be-fore Sarajevo stepped forward

at times in the domain ofeconomy, easy music and film,but only the Olympic Gamesmade Sarajevo part of Europe.Vancouver on the other hand, amulti-ethnic, multi-cultural,multi-religious megalopolisonly with the Olympic Gamesbecame a Canadian city. As ifduring the Olympic Games theVancouver citizens discoveredtheir national identity. This wasclearly indicated by the supportgiven during all the events, in-cluding curling, when zealoussupport was given to the na-tional colours and the mapleleave. As a recent Canadian Ijoined in from my armchair with“Go Canada, go!” And the heart– it stayed back in Sarajevo.Albi Papo

Ponekada nam se de{avaju stvari koje nismo mogli predvidjeti,ponekad, prosto neobja{njivo, nabasamo na informacije onama poznatim osobama, o doga|ajima i epizodama iz njihovih`ivota koje nam nisu bile dostupne desetinama godina. I na`alost, ponekad su te epizode dramati~ne, pa i tragi~ne. Desilose ne{to tako na{em ~lanu Dejanu Stojni}u koji je neo~ekivanonai{ao na ispovijest svog djeda Monija Altarca, koju je ovajdavne 1955 i1956 g. ispovijedao u pisa}u ma{inu Dejanovogoca Slobodana Bode Stojni}a. Redakcija SaLona je uzDejanov pristanak odlu~ila da objavi ova sje}anja u ~etirinastavka, kako su i zabilje`ena. @estok razlog za ovu odlukuredakcija je imala u ~injenici da se radi o li~nom svjedo~enjupre`ivjelog jedne od najsurovijih zlo~ina~kih epizoda IISvjetskog Rata, epizoda kada se ~ovjek najvi{e udaljio odhumanizma, mo`da i vi{e od onoga kuda je zagazio njema~kinacional-socijalizam. Ovo zbog toga {to ovdje zlo~in, masovnizlo~in, nije bio industrija liziran, ve} je bio li~an ipojedina~an, unato~ svojoj masovnosti. Ta epizoda se zoveJasenovac. Za one koji ne znaju ili koji su premladi, pa imniko nije ispri~ao, Jasenovac je gubili{te nezamislivesurovosti, koje su hrvatski ekstremni nacionalisti – rukamasvojih d`elata – Usta{a, ustanovili i u kome su po~eli svojuzlo~ina~ku rabotu jo{ 1941 g, dakle prije ma{inerijanacisti~kih logora istrebljenja, sa ciljem kona~nog razra~unasa Srbima, Jevrejima, Ciganima, ali i rodoljubivim Hrvatima.Ukupni broj `rtava se izra`ava 6-to cifrenim brojkama. Ovepriloge treba shvatiti kao protest protiv svih onih poku{ajakoji su dolazili i koji }e vjerovatno dolaziti sa samog vrhanove dr`ave Hrvatske, da se veli~ina tragedije umanji, pa ~aki da se izjedna~e zlo~inac i `rtva.

SALOMON MONI ALTARAC:SJE]ANJA IZ JASENOVCA

- OKOVI -Bila je prva nedelja hiljadudevet stotina ~etrdeset i drugegodine.U logoru je vladala strahovita,nezapam}ena g lad. Ranije,nikada u svom `ivotu ja nisambio gladan. A tada sam biotoliko gladan da bih dao svojgoli `ivot samo da sam semogao najesti.Borio sam se o~ajni~ki sa njom,sa gla|u. Borio sam se sa onomalo svijesti koju glad još nijeuspjela da zamra~i. Kona~no,nisam više mogao da izdr`im.Predao sam se.Krenuo sam da tra`im Isidora.Isidora Maestra.On je bio kuvar u oficirskojustaškoj kuhinji. Ovih danakuvao je topla jela. Mogao jedo beskraja da u`iva u njima, unjihovim mirisima. Nekad smobili dobri prijatelji Maestro ija. Sada smo oba bili uJasenovcu. Ja ve} t ri i pomjeseca na nasipu, sa okovimana nogama, sa okovima naranama. Gvozdene ivice alkibile su jako oštre, a moralo sekretati, raditi. Nisu pomagaleni krp ice kojima samomotavao ivice alki, jer bi oneuskoro bile sasje~ene. Isidornije nosio okove, nije radio na

nasipu i nije bio gladan. Da li}e me razumjeti, pomo}i?- Isidore !Okrenuo se brzo prema meni.Kada su nam se pogledi sreli, unjegovim o~ima sam ugledaostrah. Pogledao je brzo uokolo.Ne, bili smo sami nas dvojica.Onda je spustio o~i ka zemlji ilice mu je postalo mrko. ekaoje.- Isidore, prijatelju, ti znaš daja nikada u `ivotu nisam biogladan !Rekao sam to tiho i - teško.Rekao sam to i u}utao.- Znam - odgovorio je Isidor.- A, znaš li ti Isidore da sam jasada toliko gladan da bih dao isvoj goli `ivot samo da mi senajesti?- Šta bi htio? - ka`e mi on.Ja bih te molio da mi iz oneba~ve u koju bacaš ostatke zanapoj, daš jednu porciju, eto,da mi se najesti ....- Jesi li ti lud, Moni - govorioje Isidor tihim glasom. - Ja ne}ustavljam svoj `ivot na kockuradi jedne porcije spirina, tiznaš da je zato~enicima strogozabranjeno da se kre}u u bliziniustaške kuhinje, ti to znaš !Da, ja sam to znao. Ali nisamviše htio da znam. A sada smo,

evo, sami i on bi mi mogaopomo}i, a da o tome niko ništane sazna. Treba imati samomalo hrabrosti. I malo samilosti.- Isidore !- Moni !- Isidore, ti se plašiš !- Da, Moni, ako nas uhvate,znam šta ~eka i tebe i mene.Da, i to sam znao. Ali šta je višesmrt i ovdje predstavljala! Gladju je sada bila nadja~ala. Rekaosam:- Svejedno ti je Isidore, ili teubili danas ili sutra. Što tiIsidore toliko ~uvaš svoj ivot?Da, svejedno je - ponovio je zamnom Isidor, ali ne kao da meniodgovara, ve} kao da sam sebigovori, i lice mu se još višesmra~ilo, kao da je naglo,mnogo, ostario. Onda je rekao:- Slušaj! U jedan sat do|i kodkuh inje, Tamo }u ti , umetranskim drvima, ujednoj odšupljina, ostaviti porciju ....- Hvala, Isidore ....Bilo je negdje oko deset satikada sam ovo sa Isidoromrazgovarao. A on mi je rekaoda do|em tek u jedan. Kakoizdr`ati to, kako do~ekati tajsat!U pola jedan krenuo sam premadrvima, prema porciji. Drhtaosam idu}i ka ustaškoj kuhinji,zv jerao okolo da koga neugledam. Vukao sam se polako,teško i oprezno, nastoje}i daugušim šum lanaca na nogama.Kona~no, bio sam tu, kod drva,

i ugledao sam porciju. Ipak sise pokazao kao ~ovjek, Isidore!Pru`io sam ruku da iz rupeizvu~em porciju. Ali nisamstigao da to u~inim. ^uo samkorake, i kada sam se okrenuo,vidio sam kako ravno premameni ide jedan ustaški oficir.Ravno prema meni ! Bilo jenemogu}e ma šta pametnosmisliti, ma šta poduzeti. Biloje nemogu}e pobje}i i - ostatitu. Ali sam tu bio i ostao takonepokretan, samo sam osjetiokako su mi se noge podsijekle

i ruke po~ele dadrhte. Ubi}e me,ovako, ovdje, predciljem, gladnog !Naslonio sam se le|ima na onomjesto u drvima gdje je bilaskrivena porcija. Naslonio samse da bih je skrio - i da ne bihpao.Koraci su se sve višepribli`avali. Spustio sam o~iprema zemlji. Onda su koracistali. Ja sam gledao u ~izme~ovjeka meni još nepoznatalika. U elegantne, ~iste, odli~ne~izme. To mi se nije svidjelo.- Šta tra`iš ti ovdje?Bio sam prisiljen da dignempogled prema njemu.Predamnom je stajao mlad~ovjek, oštra lika, sa malim,crnim, br~i}ima. Postavio jeovo teško pitanje i promatraome upitno. Osjetio sam kakostvar kre}e r|avim putem. Biosam se smeo.- Gospodine natporu~ni~e, jasla`em drva.Znam, da sam smišljao la` dani no}, ne bih je gluplju mogaosmisliti. Drva su bila slo`ena, abila je nedelja. Zato~enicimaje pristup ovdje bio strogozabranjen. Ali, nisam znao štada odgovorim. Mislio sam da}e me ovdje, na licu mjesta,ubiti.- Reci mi šta si tra`io, ovdje,kod kuhinje ?Ja sam }utao.- Poznaješ li ti mene ?

Ovo je bi lo teškopi tanje. Ali tonkojim ga je ustašapostavio, n ije sesalgao sa njegovimz a s t r a š u j u } i msmislom. To me je jošviše zbunilo. A štaako se on to samo samnom izigrava ? Dali ga poznajem ! Akoga ne poznajem,onda }u ga upoznati.Neki dan se draoLjubo Miloš: vi }etemene ve} upoznati,bando `idovska,b a n d ok o m u n i s t i ~ k a .

Ponije}ete moj lik sa sobom uzemlju. Bando ! Bando ! ....- Ne gospodine, ja vas nepoznajem.- Otkada si ti ovdje ?- Tri i po mjeseca.- Jesi li ti tada okovan ?- Da, gospodine.- Zar ti ne radiš u mehani~kojradionici ?Ne, gospodine.- Hajde sa mnom.Krenul i smo. Iza mene, udrvima, ostala je porcija. Ali,ja više nisam mislio na nju.Teška mora tištala mi je dušu.

Ovo je posljednji dokumenat koji nam je stavljen naraspolaganje, o dramati~noj i tragi~noj pri~i upisanoj onakokako je ispri~ao Salomon Moni Altarac, pre`ivjeli izJasenovca. Ako su vam dostupni sli~ni dokumenti koje bihtjeli objavit, molimo vas da nam se javite

Kako sam ~inio ko rak zakorakom, srce mi se sve višestezalo. Jedva sam se vukao.Išli smo prema Savi.Strašna ri jeka tekla jepolagano, ogromna, mutna,prljava. Mislio sam da je tokraj. Bilo mi je `ao.A onda smo naglo skrenuli.Sava je ostajala iza nas. Ustašame je vodio prema lan~ari. Tu,gd je sam p rvog dana b iookovan. Tu, gdje su se praviliokovi za desetine i stotinehiljada zato~enika.Ušli smo u lan~aru. Ustaša jedozvao sebi kova~a UrošaMileti}a. Naredio mu je:- Otku j ovom zato~enikuokove !Uroš je prišao s majzlom u ruci.Udario je dva puta i okovi subili razbi jeni. Nepokretni,okovi su le`ali na zemlji.U tom trenutku osjetio samkako mi na o~i naviru suze. Nidanas, poslije toliko godina, nebih umio objasniti kako mi seto desilo. Znam samo da samse trudio, ali ih nisam mogaozadr`ati . Mo`da je to b ilaradost što su mi okovi pali snogu, ili mo`da `alost da }uoti}i u smrt, u Savu. Ili, mo`danešto tre}e što nisam v išemogao razumom shvatiti, alisam to nejasno osjetio, i suzesu potekle.Pita me ustaša:- Zašto pla~eš ?- Ne pla~em - ka`em ja.- Pla~eš !- Ne p la~em, gospodine -ponavljam ja. I stvarno, nisamplakao, samo su mi suze tekbile potekle.- Hajde, sa mnom !I, ponovo me vodi. Vodi meprema izlazu iz logorske kapije.A preko puta nje nalazio seGranik. Granik sa koga suhiljade i hiljade nesre}nikaotišli u Savu. Opet mi se ste`esrce. A suze su prestale da teku.Pred o~ima mi se mra~i. Idemopuštene glave, o~iju uprtih uzemlju. Ne vidim ustašu, ali seupravljam prema njegovimkoracima.- Hej, kuda ?Digao sam glavu. Ustaša je bioskrenuo od Granika. A ja samse nesvjesno i dalje kretao kanjemu.- Ovuda !Okrenuli smo lijevo, premaoficirskim ustašk impav iljonima. Po~eo samponovo da razaznajem stvarioko sebe. I, bilo mi je lakše.Ušao je u prvu oficirsku baraku.Ja za njim. Vodi me u jednusobu. Bila je prazna. Daje mistolicu.- Sjedi, - ka`e,

Sjedam. Nasuprot meni sjeda ion. Gleda me. Gledam ja unjega. I, tako, }utimo jednovrijeme. Onda ponovo pitanje:- Zar ti mene ne poznaješ ?Gledam u njega upitno. Ne, nesje}am se ovog lica. Nikada u`ivotu nisam ga vidio.- Ne, ne poznajem vas.- Sje}aš li se kada si moga oca,ko ji je bio mašinovo|a,bolesnog iz Trnova prevezaodo Sarajeva ?Da, sje}am se toga. I ovoga~ovjeka ovdje, preko putamene. I nije to bilo davno kadasmo se upoznali, svega su dvijegodine prošle od tada. I tri i pomjeseca, ovdje, u ovom logoruuništenja. Za te dvije godinenisam zaboravio ljude sakojima sam se poznavao. Alisam zaboravio za ova tri i pomjeseca.Da, gospodine ustaškinatporu~ni~e. Sad vas sesje}am. I sje}am se kada smose upoznali. Bio sam šofer uSarajevu i imao sam svoja kola.Bio sam taksi šofer. Bilo je ve~ei ja sam stajao kraj svojih kolana štandu u Koševu.Tad ste naišli vi. Prilazili ste minesigurnim korakom.Primijetio sam da se ustru~avateda me nešto upitate.- @elite nešto, gospodine ?- Da, `elim da vas neštozamolim. Ako me mo`eteshvatiti i ako biste htjeli da mipomognete. I ja sam šofer,kolege smo po zanimanju.Našao sam se u teškoj neprilici.Imam bolesnog oca u Trnovu itreba hitno da ga prevezem uSarajevo da bih mu spasio`ivot. Imam samo toliko daplatim benzin, više nemam.Imao sam tu neke prijatelje,šofere. Zamolio sam ih da mipomognu. Nisu htjeli, odbili sume. Bili su prijazni sa mnom,al i su me odbi li. Vas nepoznajem. Nikada u `ivotunismo se vidjeli. Ne znam šta}ete mi re}i. Ali sam prisiljenda vas zamolim da mi u~initetu uslugu. Mo`da }u vam sekasnije odu`i ti. Ako mivjerujete ....Rekli ste to i u}utali. Iz rije~ivam je izbijala nevjerica i o~aj.A ja vam ni jedno pitanje nisampostavio. I nisam se, djeteta miubijenog ovdje u Jasenovcu, ni~asa premišljao. Otvorio samvrata od kola:- Sjedite !Znam, htjeli ste u tom trenutkunešto da mi ka`ete, da mi sezahvalite. Ali, to niste u~inili.Samo ste mi pru ili ruku i reklisvoje ime. Tada sam vaše imeupamtio, sada ga se više nesje}am. Tada to za mene nijebilo va`no. Kao što nije bilo

va`no za vas kako se ja zovem,kojim jezikom govorim, i kojesam narodnosti. I da li uopšteimam narodnost. Tada sve tonije bilo va`no. Radilo se otome da se spase jedan `ivot.@ivot vašeg oca koji je le`aoteško bolestan u Trnovu inepokretan o~ekivao od vaspomo}.Vozili smo se prema Trnovu.Pri~ali ste mi malo o sebi. Daradite kao šofer na teretnomSaureru kod pilane Rivolta uBosanskom Brodu. Jadali stemi se da tu nema kakve zarade,da se teško `ivi.Stigli smo pred vašu ku}u.Sje}am se, vašeg su oca iznijeliu komadu ponjave. S njim jeišla vaša starica majka, koja jeponijela sa sobom nekolikošerpi nagorjelih od ~a|i. Pravoda vam ka`em, kada sam vidiotu tešku sirotinju, smu~ilo mise u glavi. I nije mi bilo ao štosam se namu~io ove no}i.Doveo sam vas na stanicu uSarajevo. Sje}ate se, zajednosmo iznijeli iznemoglog starcai smjestili ga u restoran.Naru~io sam za njega i staricu~aj, a nama po jednu rakijicu.Onda sam rekao da sam, eto,u~inio svoje i da je vrijeme dakrenem.Vi ste se digli. Rekli ste:- Prijatelju dragi. Ne znam kakoda vam se za sve ovo zahvalim.U~inili ste mi mnogo, mnogoste mi u~inili. @ao mi je štomogu da vam platim samo ben-zin. Dozvolite, koliko vamdugujem?A ja sam ve} ranije bio donioodluku. U onom trenutku kadasam vidio da vašeg starog ocaiznose u ponjavi. I vašu staricumajku kako nosi nagorjelešerpe.- Dozvolite, da vam ništa nenaplatim. Eto, jednom kadanai|em kroz Brod, mo`ete mepo~astiti.Stegao sam vam ruku i krenuoka izlazu. A vi ste ostalinepokretni , sa otvoren imnov~anikom u rukama. Mislim,u tom momentu, niste mogli dashvatite da i tako nešto mo`eda se desi. A ja, prije nego štosam izišao iz restorana, zatrenutak sam se osvrnuo. Vi stei dalje stajali onako kako samvas ostavio, samo ste, kada sunam se pogledi ponovo sreli,malo podigli ka~ket sa glave.

U znak pozdrava izahvalnosti.I, mislim -poštovanja.Vodio sam ovaj nijemi dijalogu sebi. A onda sam rekao:- Da, gospodine, sad vas sesje}am. Mnogo ste se izmijeniliod one no}i. A, - i mene sumnogo izmijenili ....I - u}utao sam. Neka ogromnatuga obujmila me je svega. Nebih znao re}i zbog ~ega. Mo`dašto sam se sjetio starih dana. I,na jedan trenutak, na jedanstrahov ito mali trenutak,zaboravio na logor.Podigao sam pogled premaustaši. Ali, on me više nijeposmatrao. Podnimljen na objeruke, o~iju uprtih u sto, on je}utao.Tada, prvi put kako smo sedanas sreli, progovorio sam, ada mi nije bilo postavljenopitanje:- Htjeli ste da znate zašto sambio kod ustaške kuhinje. Sadavam to mogu re}i ....Glas mi se prelomio. Osjetiosam kako mi se naglo grlosteglo. Ali, ne od straha. Ja ga uovom trenutku više n isamosje}ao. Osje}ao sam tugu i -glad.- Ne, nije potrebno.Izvadio je olovku i notes. Pisaoje. Zatim mi je pru`io cedulju.Bez rije~i.„Šefu ustaške kuhinje,Zato~eniku broj 375 dajte mojru~ak i ve~eru“.I potpis.Krenuo sam teško. udno. Trii po mjeseca nosio sam okove ibio sam se ve} tako navikao nanjih da mi se ~inilo kao danjihovu te`inu više ne osje}amna nogama. Sada, kada samkrenuo, osjetio sam kako miokovi teško ste`u noge, okovikojih tu više nije bilo.Na vratima sam zastao. Samojedan trenutak. Ali se nisamosvrnuo. Izišao sam napolje.Bila je nedelja i neka ~udnatišina u logoru. Trebalo je sadada krenem u kuhinju. Ali, u štada primim hranu?Na jedno dvadesetak metara odkuhinje le`ala je jednaogromna kamara gvo`|a. Tu jebilo nabacano hiljade posu|asvih mogu}ih boja i oblika. Odhiljada Cigana ubijenih ovdjeu logoru.Uputio sam se prema kamari.

Sometimes things we could not predict happen to us; inex-plicably sometimes we come upon information about per-sons known to us and about events and episodes from theirlives not accessible to us for decades. Regretfully also, theseepisodes are sometimes dramatic and even tragic. One suchthing happened to our member, Dejan Stojni}, who unex-pectedly discovered the recollections of Moni Altarac, hisgrandfather as told into the typewriter of Slobodan BodoStojni}, Dejan’s father back in 1955 and 1956. The editorialboard of SaLon has decided, with Dejan’s consent, to pub-lish these memories in four instalments, reflecting the waythey were recorded. A compelling reason for our decisionwas the fact that it is a personal testimony by a survivor fromone of the most brutal criminal episodes of World War Two,where the distance of man from humanity was the greatest,probably even greater than the distance to which the Ger-man National-Socialism stepped in. It is because the crime,the mass crime, was not industrialized here but personal andindividual in spite of its immensity. The name of that episodeis Jasenovac. For those who do not know what it means orfor those who are too young and nobody has told them yet:Jasenovac is a place of execution of unimaginable crueltyestablished by Croat extreme nationalists – by the hands oftheir executioners – the Ustashas, where they started theircriminal actions already in 1941, namely before the Naziextermination camps machine started;The purpose of Jasenovac was the final face-off with Serbs,Jews, Gypsies and patriotic Croats. The total number of vic-tims is stated in six figures. The episodes published in SaLonshould be understood as a protest against all the attemptsthat have been coming from the very top of the new state ofCroatia to diminish the size of the tragedy and even to equatethe criminal with the victim.

SALOMON MONI ALTARACRECOLLECTIONS FROM JASENOVAC

- CHAINS -It was the first week of nineteenforty two.The camp experienced an ex-treme unprecedented famine.Before that I was never hungryin my life. But then I was sohungry that I would have givenmy life just if I could have some-thing to eat.I desperately fought it – thehunger. I fought it with the littleconsciousness that the hungerdid not get to black out. Even-tually I could not bear anylonger I gave up. I went tosearch for Isidor. Isidor Maes-tro.He was a cook in the Ustashaoffices’ kitchen. When cookinghe could endlessly enjoy thearomas of the cooked food. Weused to be good friends – Maes-tro and I. Now both of us werein Jasenovac. I was on the em-bankment for three and a halfmonths already, with chains onmy legs, with chains on mywounds. The iron edges of theshackles were very sharp andone had to move and work. The

rags that I wrapped the edgesof the ring did not help eitherbecause they would soon becut to pieces. Isidor did nothave chains and he was nothungry. Will he understand andhelp me?- Isidor!He turned quickly to face me.When our eyes met I saw fearin them. He looked hastilyaround. No, the two of us werealone. Then he cast his eyes tothe ground and his face dark-ened. He waited.- Isidor, my friend, you knowthat I was never hungry in mylife.- I know – he replied.- And do you know, Isidor, thatI am so hungry now, that I wouldgive my life to have somethingto it?- What would you like?- Would you please give me aportion from the tub into whichyou threw the leftovers forslops?- Are you crazy, Moni – he saidin a low voice – I do not want to

risk my life for one portion ofslops. You know that the pris-oners are forbidden to comeclose to Ustashas kitchen, youknow that!Yes, I knew that. But I did notwant to know any more. And,here, we are alone now, and hecould help me so that nobodywould learn about i t. Oneshould have just a bit of cour-age; and a bit of pity.- Isidor!- Moni!- Isidor, you are afraid!- Yes, Moni. Should they catchus, you know what awaits bothyou and me. Yes, I knew that as well. Butwhat death meant here. Hungerwas stronger here. I said,- It is all the same Isidor whetherthey kill you today or tomorrow.Why do you care so much foryour life?Yes, it is all the same, he re-peated, but not if he were talk-ing to me but as if he were talk-ing to himself, and his face dark-ened even more, as if instantlyhe grew much older. He thensaid:- Listen! Come close to thekitchen at one o’clock. There ina hollow among the piled woodI will leave you a portion …- Thank you, Isidor. …It was about ten o’clock when Ihad this conversation withIsidor. He told me to come atone. How will I keep on till thathour!I set in the direction of the woodpile and the portion at half pasttwelve. I was trembling on myway to Ustashas kitchen all thetime looking around and check-ing whether there is anybodyin the vicinity. I was draggingon slowly, heavily and cau-tiously, trying to lessen thenoise of the chains on my legs.I got finally to the pile of woodand saw the portion. You havebehaved like a man, Isidor!I stretched my hand to get holdof the portion. But I did notmanage to do it. Some foot-steps were approaching. Turn-ing around I saw an Ustashaofficer coming straight to me! Itwas impossible to think of any-thing to explain the situation orto do anything clever or to runaway. I stayed still there; myknees turned to jelly and myhands shaking. He will kill mehere, almost at the target – buthungry!I leaned with my shoulder onthe place in the pile where theportion was hidden. I leaned in

order to hide it, andalso not to fall down.The steps came evercloser. I cast my eyes to theground. Then the stepsstopped. I was looking at theboots of the man whose facewas still unknown to me. Theboots were elegant, clean andof excellent quality. I did not likeit.- What are you doing here?I was forced to look up. I saw ayoung man with sharp face andsmall black moustaches. Askingthis hard question he looked atme inquiringly. I realized that thesituation is heading in thewrong direction. I was per-plexed.- I am piling up the wood, firstlieutenant sir.I knew that the lie I just utteredwas the most stupid one thatone could think of. The woodhas been piled up, and also itwas a Sunday. The prisonerswere strictly forbidden to bethere. I did not know how toanswer. I thought that he willkill me on the spot.- Tell me what were you lookingfor here, near the kitchen?I was silent.- Don’t you know me?That was a difficult question.However the tone how theUstasha has pronounced it wasnot consistent with its terrify-ing significance. This confusedme even more. What if he onlyprovoked me? Do I know him?!If I do not know him I will get toknow him. Ljubo Milo{ wasshouting: you Jewish banditsand you the communist ban-dits, all of you will get to knowme. You will take my featuresdown there, Bandits! Ban-dits!…- No, sir, I do not know you.- When did you come here?- Three and a half months ago.- Were you put into chainsthen?- Yes, sir.- Don’t you work in the me-chanical workshop?- No, sir.- Come with me.We started going; the portionstaid behind me in the pile ofwood. I did not think about itany more. Other dark thoughtswere on my mind. With everystep my heart was sinking; I wasstraggling to walk.We walked towards Sava River.The huge horrifying river wasmoving slowly. It was dirty andmuddy. I thought that it was theend and I was sad.

But then we suddenly changedthe direction. Sava stayed be-hind. The Ustasha was takingme to the chains workshop. Itwas the place where I was setinto the chains on the first dayof my arrival. It was the placewhere they were making chainsfor tens and hundreds of thou-sands of prisoners.We entered the workshop. TheUstasha called the blacksmithUro{ Mileti} to come. He or-dered him:- Release the chain from thisprisoner!Uro{ approached with a majzlin his hand. He hit twice and Iwas freed of the chains. Mo-tionless the chains were layingon the ground.At that moment I felt tears com-ing to my yes. Even today, somany years later, I cannot ex-plain why. I know only that Itried, but failed, to suppressthem. It might have been my joyto be released from the chainsor my sorrow to go to my deathto the Sava River. Or even some-thing else that I could not com-prehend but could only vaguelyfeel. And I started sheddingtears.- Why do you cry? – TheUstasha asked.- I am not crying. – I said.- Yes, you do!- No, sir, I do not – I repeated.And really I was not crying, itwas just my tears coming downmy face.- Come with me!And he led me again. He led meto the exit gate from the camp.Opposite the gate was theGranik where from thousands ofthe unfortunate ones werethrown into the Sava. My heartstarted sinking again. I had nomore tears. My sight becameblurred. I walked with my headdown looking at the ground. Ido not see the Ustasha but fol-low his steps.- Where do you go to?I lifted my head. The Ustashawas not going in the directionof Granika any more. Instinc-tively I did.- This way!We were heading to the left, inthe direction of Ustashas offic-ers residences. I started recog-nizing things round me againand I felt better.He entered the first officers’barrack and I followed. He tookme to a room. It was empty. Heoffered me a chair.- Sit down. – He said.I sat. He set opposite me. Hewatched me and I watched him.We were silent for a while. Thenhe repeated the question:- Don’t you know me?

I looked at him enquiringly. No,I could not remember the face. Inever saw him before in my life.- No, I do not know you.- Can you remember when youtook my ill father, the train engi-neer, from Trnovo to Sarajevo?Yes, I did remember the event;and that man who at that mo-ment was sitting opposite me.Not so long ago did we meet.Only two years went by. Andthree and a half months in thiscamp of destruction. Over thosetwo years I did not forget thepeople that I knew. But I didforget over these three and ahalf months.Yes, I did remember when wemet, the Ustasha first lieuten-ant, sir. I was a driver in Sarajevoand I had my car. I was a taxidriver. It was evening and I wasstanding by my car at the standin Ko{evo.Then you came along. You wereapproaching with an uncertainpace. I noticed that you hesi-tated to ask me something.- How can I help you?- I would like to ask you a fa-vour. Would you, please, try tounderstand me and help me? Iam also a driver. We are col-leagues by profession. I am in adesperate situation My fatheris ill in Trnovo and in order tosave his life I have to transferhim urgently to Sarajevo. I haveonly enough money to pay forthe fuel. I had some friends -drivers here. I asked them forhelp. They did not want to helpme, they turned me down. Theywere nice but they turned medown. I do not know you. Wehave never met before. I do notknow what you will say. But Iam forced to kindly ask you todo me that favour. I might re-ciprocate later. If you believeme…You said that and fell silent.Your words expressed doubtand despair. I never asked youa question. I swear by the nameof my child who was killed herein Jasenovac that I never hadsecond thoughts about it. Iopened the door:- Do sit!I know that at that moment youwanted to tell me something.But you did not do it. You onlyoffered me your hand and ut-tered your name. I did remem-ber your name at that time. I donot remember it now. It was notimportant to me then. Just thesame as it was not important foryou what my name was, whatlanguage did I speak or whatwas my ethnicity; or whether Ibelonged to an ethnic group atall. It was not important then.The issue was to save a life.

The life of your father who wasvery ill in Trnovo and not ableto move he was waiting for yourhelp.We were on our way to Trnovo.You said a few things aboutyourself – that you were a driverof a Saurer truck for Rivolta saw-mill at Bosanski Brod. You werecomplaining about your lowearnings and your hard life.We got to your house. I remem-ber that your father was carriedout of the house in a piece ofan old rug. Your old mothercame with him. She took withher a few pots black with soot.To tell you the truth I felt faintseeing that extreme poverty. Idid not regret my effort thatnight.I brought you to the station inSarajevo. Do you remember?Together we carried out the ex-hausted old man and took himto the restaurant. I ordered teafor him and the old lady and forthe two of us a brandy each.Then I said that I did what Icould and that it was time forme to go.You got up and said:- Dear friend. I do not know howto thank you for all this. Youhave done a lot for me, really. Iam sorry that I cannot pay morethan only for the fuel. Howmuch do I owe you?I already made a decision be-fore – at the moment when I sawyour father carried out in thatrug and your mother taking thesoot blackened pans:- Allow me not to charge youanything. Once, when my waytakes me to Bosanski Brod youcan buy me a drink.I shook your hand and was onmy way to exit. You stayed mo-tionless there with an open wal-let in your hand. I think that atthat moment you could not un-derstand that something likethat could happen. Before leav-ing from the restaurant I lookedback. You were still standingthere as I left you, only whenour eyes met again you movedyour flat hat a bit up your fore-head. As a sign of gratitude and- esteem I think.This silent conversation tookplace only in my mind. Then Isaid aloud.- Yes, sir. I remember you now.

You havechanged a lotsince thatnight. And I have been changeda lot. …I fell silent. A great sadnesssized me. I could not say why.It could have been because Iremembered the old days. Andfor one moment only, a fright-fully short moment I had forgot-ten the camp.I lifted my eyes to the Ustasha.But he was not watching meany more. Leaning on both hisarms, gazing at the table, he didnot speak.Then for the first time since ourmeeting that day I spoke outwithout being asked before:- You wanted to know what Iwas doing near the Ustashaskitchen. I can tell you now.My voice broke down and I gota lump in my throat. It was notfear. At that moment I did notsense it. I sensed only sadnessand – hunger.- No, there is no need.He took out a pen and a note-book. He was writing some-thing. Then he gave me thepiece of paper. Not saying aword.“To the Head of the UstashaskitchenGive my lunch and dinner toprisoner number 375.And his signature.I started with a heavy pace. Forthree and a half months I hadthe chains on and had got usedto them so much that it seemedto me that I did not feel theirweight. But when I started thenI felt the chain pressing heavilyon my legs, the chains that werethere no more.I stopped at the door. Just for amoment. But I did not look back.I went out.It was a Sunday and there wasa strange stillness in the camp.I had to head to the kitchennow. But I had nothing to takethe food in.Some twenty meters from thekitchen there was a huge pile ofiron. Thousands of pans andpots of all sizes and colourswere laying there. They werethrown by thousands of Gip-sies killed there in the camp.I was heading to that pile.

This is the last document presented to us of the dramatic andtragic story as told by Salomon Moni Altarac, a Jasenovacsurvivor. If you had access to similar documents and wouldlike them published, please get in touch.

Obilje`iti po~etak Pesaha iprisustvovati Seder ve~eri una{oj sarajevskoj Op{tinipostalo mi je “navika”, jer evove} drugu godinu zaredomzati~em se u vrijeme Pesaha uSarajevu. Iskreno, od srca sam

se radovala da }u ponovovidjeti drage ljude i zajedno sanj ima u`ivati u sve~anojatmosferi praznika.Od oko 1000 Jevreja, kolikootprilike danas broji Op{tina,iskupilo se vi{e od 120 daobilje`i prvu ve~er Pesaha.

PESAH 5770 U SARAJEVU

“@enska sekcija” pod budnimokom Nele Levi i Cickonaravno, danima su kupovali,spremali, organizovali da bikona~no, u savr{enom redu, nakristalno ~ist im b ijel imsto ljnjacima, p red svak im

~lanom bio ritulani tanjir sasvim simboli~nim obilje`jimaSeder ve~eri. Maces urednostavljen sa strane zamotan usalvetu, v ino i ~a{e li jepoaran`irane tako da je u saliprepunoj stolova, zaistaizgledalo veoma sve~ano.

Seder je vodio, kako to i prili~i,gostuju}i Rabin Eliezer Papo.Uz malo {ale za na{im stolomda li smijemo da naspemo josjednu ~a{u vina preko reda i uzogromno po{tovanje i radostzajedn i~kog ob ilje`avn japraznika, uz zadivl juju}ete~no ~itanje na hebrejskompodmlatka sarajevske Op{tine

i uz neizbje`nu “Dajenu”, ve~erse privela kraju. Opu{teno,li jepo , nekako lagodno,neoptre~avaju}e, ali saspecijalnim osje}ajem da seobilje`io po~etak Pesaha i jo{jednom pro`iv jelo , kroz

~itanje Hagade,d a n a ss i m b o l i ~ n ozna~en je oslobo|enja odropstva i izlazak iz Egipta.I na kraju Seder je zavr{en satradicionalnim rije~ima:Le{ana habaa bi Jeru{alajim -Dogodine u Jerusalemu.Svi su podigli ~a{e, nazdravili

i zaista se osje}ali druga~ije.I jo{ na kraju koristim prilikuda se zahvalim “raji za stolom”koji su me tako lijepo i srda~noprimili i sa kojima je biloizuzetno zadovoljsvo provestitu ve~er.Darija Stojni}

IZDAVA^ <> PUBLISHER Jevrejska Zajednica “Prijatelji La Benevolencije” London <> Jewish Society “The Friends of La

Benevolencija” London ADRESA <> ADDRESS

Shalvata - Jewish Care, Att Mr Branko DanonParson Street - Corner of Church Road

London NW4 1QAEmail: salon@benevolencija.eu.org

REDAKCIJA <> EDITORIAL BOARDBranka Danon, Branko Danon, @elimir Ku~inovi}, Sveto Ga}inovi}, Vesna Domany-Hardy, Dragan Ungar

TEHNI^KI UREDNIK I KOMPJUTERSKA OBRADA <> DESIGN AND COMPUTER PROCESSING .

Dejan Stojni}Logo: Daniel Ovadia

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UVOD Poziv / Redakcija ...................................................1 Invitation / Publishing board ..................................1

ANTISEMITIZAM / ANTISEMITISMMoji susreti sa antisemitizmom / . Cezar Zadik Danon ......................................2My encounters with Antisemitism / . Cezar Zadik Danon ......................................3

DOGA\AJI / EVENTS

Olimpijada / Albi Papo ........................................4,5Olympics / Albi Papo ...........................................5,6

SVJEDO^ENJA / TESTIMONIES

Jasenonovac: Okovi / . Salomon Moni Altarac ...............................7,8Jasenonovac: Chains / . Salomon Moni Altarac ............................ 9,10

POSJETE / VISITS

Pesah u Sarajevu / . Darija Stojni} .............................................. 11Seder Night in Sarajevo / . Darija Stojni} ..............................................12

SADR@AJ / CONTENTS Marking the beginning ofPassover and attending theSeder in our Sarajevo JewishCommunity became my “cus-tom”, because this is alreadythe second year in a row that Ihappen to be in Sarajevo dur-ing Passover. I was really veryglad to see again people dearto my heart and to enjoy the fes-tive atmosphere of the holidaytogether with them.

Out of the 1000 Jews makingtoday the Jewish Community ofSarajevo, more than 120 gath-ered to mark the first Passoverevening. The Women Sectionunder the watchful eyes of NelaLevi and needless to say Cickowere organizing, buying andpreparing things for days. Theultimate result was a ritual platewith all Seder evening symbolsplaced in front of every mem-ber onto radiant white table-cloth. Matzah wrapped in nap-kins was set aside; the wine andthe glasses were in pretty ar-rangement so that the hallpacked with tables had a veryfestive appearance indeed. TheSeder ceremony was performedas it should be by the visiting

rabbi Eliezer Papo. Jokes at ourtable were about the wine andwhether we were allowed tohave extra glasses not called forby the order of the evening, butwe all were happy to be able tohonour together the holiday.The young members surprisedus with their fluent reading inHebrew. Eventually, singing to-gether of the unavo idable“Dayenu”, the evening was ap-proaching its end. Everythingwas relaxed and pleasant butwith a special feeling that thebeginning of Passover wasmarked and that by reading theHaggadah, the now symbolicmeaning of liberation from slav-ery and the exodus from Egypthad been experienced yet again.The traditional words: Le ShanaHabaa be Yerushalayim – Nextyear in Jerusalem marked thevery end of that Seder evening.Raising our glasses we all drankto it and really felt different.I would like to thank here thecordial “friends at the table”who made my evening a highlyenjoyable one.

Darija Stojnic

SEDER NIGHT 5770IN SARAJEVO