Zlata's Diary (12 page)

Zlata

Dear Mimmy,

I've been walking my feet off these past few days.

I'm at home today. I had my first piano lesson. My teacher and I kissed and hugged, we hadn't seen each other since March. Then we moved on to Czerny, Bach, Mozart and Chopin, to the étude, the invention, the sonata and the “piece.” It's not going to be easy. But I'm not going to school now and I'll give it my all. It makes me happy. Mimmy, I'm now in my fifth year of music school.

You know, Mimmy, we've had no water or electricity for ages. When I go out and when there's no shooting it's as if the war were over, but this business with the electricity and water, this darkness, this winter, the shortage of wood and food, brings me back to earth and then I realize that the war is still on. Why? Why on earth don't those “kids” come to some agreement? They really are playing games. And it's us they're playing with.

As I sit writing to you, my dear Mimmy, I look over at Mommy and Daddy. They are reading. They lift their eyes from the page and think about something. What are they thinking about? About the book they are reading or are they trying to put together the scattered pieces of this war puzzle? I think it must be the latter. Somehow they look even sadder to me in the light of the oil lamp (we have no more wax candles, so we make our own oil lamps). I look at Daddy. He really has lost a lot of weight. The scales say twenty-five kilos, but looking at him I think it must be more. I think even his glasses are too big for him. Mommy has lost weight too. She's shrunk somehow, the war has given her wrinkles. God, what is this war doing to my parents? They don't look like my old Mommy and Daddy anymore. Will this ever stop? Will our suffering stop so that my parents can be what they used to be—cheerful, smiling, nice-looking?

This stupid war is destroying my childhood, it's destroying my parents' lives. WHY? STOP THE

WAR! PEACE! I NEED PEACE!

I'm going to play a game of cards with them! Love from your Zlata

Dear Mimmy,

Tomorrow night people will be seeing out the old year and ringing in the new all over the world. I remember previous New Year's Eves, I wonder what they are like in the normal world. And here???? In Sarajevo???

In Sarajevo we're ringing in the New Year so that we can forget the old as quickly as possible, in the hope that the New Year will bring us peace. That's all we want. When there is peace, then it's a good and happy year. That is what we the (innocent) people of Sarajevo wish. And just because we are innocent, our wish should be answered. We don't deserve to suffer like this anymore.

Zlata

Dear Mimmy,
HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!

May this year bring us peace, happiness, love, reunited families and friends.

Now let me tell you how we saw out the old year and rang in the new.

Yesterday we (Mommy, Daddy and I) first went to Melica's for her birthday. We had lunch there. Melica gave us ajar of pickled carrots as her New Year's present.

We came home. Mommy went to fetch the water, and Daddy and I stayed in the house. When Mommy got back we sat around for a while, made sandwiches with margarine (the package of winter food supplies Mommy got at the office included margarine), cream cheese and liver sausage. “Fantastic” sandwiches! Yum-Yum!

Around eight o‘clock we started getting drowsy. Then Auntie Boda burst in, got us onto our feet and we all went to their place, where we had “turkey” (a can of beef) and real Emmenthal cheese. Around ten o'clock we all started getting drowsy again, and then somebody remembered to turn on the radio. And on the radio were the Nadrealisti [Surrealists, a Sarajevo comedy group]. We all woke up. And so, bit by bit, the New Year came round. Zika opened a bottle of champagne (he had been saving it for the end of the war, but since the end isn't in sight he opened it now), and we all kissed (Grandma, Žika, Boda, Mommy, Daddy, Cici and I). Nedo was missing, but he had gone off with his friends. Mommy and Daddy gave me a comb and barrette, the Bobars gave me a musical egg (it has a light sensor) and Slime. They gave Mommy some nail-polish remover, and we gave them some potatoes, onions and sour cabbage. Oh, wow!

And that's how we spent the evening until 1:30 in the morning. We were dead tired when we got home. It was 2:00 A.M. before we got to bed. We slept like babies.

Once again, Mimmy, Happy New Year to you and all the people of Sarajevo.

Love,
Zlata

Dear Mimmy,

Today we received a package from Neda in Zagreb. It came through the Adventist Church. It was full of all sorts of things. It made us happy, but also sad. I liked the tangerines, chocolate bars and “Nutella” best.

Auntie Irena, my summer school teacher, is still looking out for us. She brightened up our days at the summer school, while it lasted, and now through UNICEF [United Nations International Children's Fund] she's managed to get us thermal underwear. She brought them over today. The underpants are red, and the top has red and white stripes. Thank you Auntie Irena. Thank you

UNICEF.

Ciao,
Zlata

Dear Mimmy,

It's freezing. Winter has definitely come to town. I used to love and enjoy it so much, but now it's a very disagreeable guest in Sarajevo.

Our flowers have frozen. They were in the rooms we didn't heat. We live in the kitchen now. That's the only room we heat and we manage to get the temperature up to 63.4°F. Cicko is with us. I'm afraid he might get sick, because birds are sensitive to winter.

We moved the mattresses into the kitchen and now we sleep here. (Don't make me tell you how many sweaters and pullovers we wear over our pajamas.) The kitchen is now our kitchen and our sitting room and our bedroom and even our bathroom. We have an unusual way of bathing. We spread out the sheets of plastic and then—the basin becomes our bathtub, the jug our shower, and so on.

Daddy's got frostbite on his fingers from cutting the wood in the cold cellar. They look awful. His fingers are swollen and now they're putting some cream on them, but they itch badly. Poor Daddy.

Tomorrow I'm probably going to Grandma's and Granddad's. They have gas heating.

Zlata

Dear Mimmy,

In Geneva “all three warring sides” are trying to reach some agreement. I don't think it will amount to anything. I don't believe anyone.

Still no electricity or water.

Tomorrow, Mimmy, I'm going to my old teacher (she's retired now) for a math lesson. Mirna is coming with me. The two of us practiced a little today but we seem to have forgotten everything. We'll see tomorrow.

And tomorrow Mommy and Auntie Ivanka are going to the Holiday Inn to see about the Slovenian convoy. Maybe we'll leave on it.

Now for the main thing. Yesterday Auntie Boda received a letter from Maja and Bojana. YIPPEE, HOORAY! I read it today. Everything is really super. They live in a big house—700 square meters. They go to school, too. They've been eating all sorts of wonderful things—tomatoes, Pi-Pi orangeade, Camembert ... YUMMY-YUMMY! Their thoughts are with us and they are sad for us.

Zlata

Dear Mimmy,

They killed Vice-Premier Hakija Turajlić, my workshop teacher's husband. Everybody says he was a wonderful man. What a shame.

My math lesson at my teacher's was a success. We learned three new lessons. The arithmetic mean, ratios and percentages.

No electricity, no water.

Zlata

Dear Mimmy,

It's snowing. A real winter's day. The snowflakes are huge. If only I could go out sledding, since I can't go to Jahorina. But, there's a war on, Zlata! The war won't allow it. You have to sit in the house and watch the snowflakes play, and enjoy yourself that way. Or get your enjoyment from remembering the good old days, before the reality of war brings you back to earth.

I watch people lugging water. They are using sleds for that now. We left ours at Jahorina, so we have to borrow Auntie Boda's.

Thank God we didn't have to stay in the cellar for long. The shooting wasn't that bad. Otherwise we would have frozen stiff down there. Are they thinking about us after all????

Zlata

Dear Mimmy,

Just so you know, the war is still on. But I'm sick, Oohhh! Yesterday I had a sore throat but no temperature. Last night I got a cream for my throat and it doesn't hurt anymore, but I have a temperature: 99.5°F or 100.4°F or 101.3°F. A temperature, and I've got math tomorrow! SNIFFLE!!!

Mirna came to see me today. She kept her distance from me.

Zlata

Dear Mimmy,

I'm over my little flu. I went to my math class yesterday. It's going well.

And now listen to this. Electricity has returned to the city, but only for priority consumers, and that's not us. But it is one of our neighbors. He gives us a little through a cable, so we can get some warmth, use the stove to cook something, and watch TV. It's great! And there's water too. How little we Sarajevo people need to make us happy.

Ciao,
Zlata

Dear Mimmy,

I'm getting ready to go to Nejra's birthday party. I'm wearing black tights (thick, of course), a red turtleneck under a white blouse, a kilt and red cardigan sweater. As you can see, I've dressed up.

The party was nice. We gave Nejra a bunny. The old crowd from the neighborhood was there.

Mimmy, I've noticed that I don't write to you anymore about the war or the shooting. That's probably because I've become used to it. All I care about is that the shells don't fall within 50 meters of my house, that we've got wood, water and, of course, electricity. I can't believe I've become used to all this, but it seems I have. Whether it's being used to it, fighting for survival or something else, I don't know.

Ciao,
Zlata

Dear Mimmy,

It's February. In three days it will have been ten months of hell, blood, horror. Today is Kenan's birthday. We can't go, because they're shooting again. God, I keep thinking this is going to stop, but the war just goes on and on.

Zlata

Dear Mimmy,

Today we celebrated Zika's and Bojana's birthdays. (Today is actually Bojana's birthday. Zika's was on February 2.) I just wonder how Bojana celebrated it in Austria. Probably not like us, with an oil lamp, beef and Feta cheese sandwiches, rolls, tea, marzipan made of flour and wartime
hurmasice
cakes.

It's been a long time since we heard from Maja and Bojana. I hope they're all right. Right now I'm doing my math and practicing on the piano. Mirna can hardly wait to finish the fifth and sixth grade in school so she can move on to the seventh. She thinks she'll feel older. I don't know what I would like??? I just know that the war is stealing years of our life and childhood from us.

Along with Braco Lajtner, we also have Seka (Bokica's sister) here. She has no heating so she stays here with us until dark and then goes home. She spent the night here a few times too.

Zlata

Dear Mimmy,

Bajo and Goga are coming. They're our friends. Their daughter Tia is sixteen. She's in Czechoslovakia. They're alone. They sometimes talk to Tia through ham radios, but they rarely get letters from her. It makes them sad. Letters are something very precious here, they bring joy, even though they also bring tears. Bajo's brother sends them packages from Belgrade and they always bring something over for me; it's a real treat for Mommy and Daddy when they bring cigarettes and some coffee.

Your Zlata

Dear Mimmy,

Again there's no electricity, not even for priority cases. We're back to the dark and chopping wood again. I was looking forward to spending time with my music, with Mozart, Bach and the others, but now I can't. It's freezing in the piano room. The room has become “dangerous” again??? I really don't feel up to all this.

Mirna was here today. We practiced math a bit and later played with our Barbie dolls.

Zlata

Dear Mimmy,

Yesterday was Haris' birthday party. It wasn't bad. There were lots of people. In fact it would have been perfect if the grown-ups hadn't started talking politics. I'm sick to death of politics. YUCK!

Well, Haris' birthday ends this string of February birthdays. Never mind. I like them so much because they remind me of peacetime (provided there's no shooting, of course) .

Your Zlata

Dear Mimmy,

Something tremendous happened yesterday. We had real live French people in the house. Aha, yes we did, French people.

They asked me some questions and in the end told me they'd be doing a report on me. It's supposed to be filmed at the Vijecnica University Library. That will be interesting, to see the library (it's burned down), and a real film camera.

Zlata

Dear Mimmy,

Nothing came of the report about me. There's no electricity, no cameraman and it can't be filmed. So I don't get to see the library. I'm really disappointed. But, it can't be helped.