An Entry in Mama's War Diary- 1943- Munich
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An Entry in Mama's War Diary- 1943- Munich
“au –veritable ist die Strass nicht ausgekommen” hopelessly sounded into the quiet, late morning.
Oh God, it is already 10 am and I slept soundly like in the middle of the night. I look around- everything keeps spinning in my head- war, academy, Brussel, UNRRA, chateau, police, wind, opera, university- what a pity- what a silly idea those professors have -an idea that students should keep working during the holidays. I am sitting on the bed, looking around: that annoying Munich – that crazy university- how did I end up here. Cigarette butt is staring at me from the ashtray, the alarm clock stopped- well done, I trained it well, it knows that Olinka hates getting up. Empty cans are quivering on the table, oh excuse me, they are not empty, tiny worms are doing their morning exercise in them. My first award is lounging on the sofa, I know you are jealous, the one and only general gave it to me – I keep saying this: the university will pull through (and not like a street car)- but he wasn’t getting it, I tried to convince him that the university is just a small community with a goal to keep students busy, so they don’t have time to get in trouble, travel across the borders, so they pay for tickets, and don’t cause any embarrassment. Oh sorry, it is hard to understand, let me explain. There is a museum in Munich in Ludwigs Bruche which was repurposed as UNRRA University. Yesterday I was cutting pictures from the newspaper, so I don’t have to take pictures myself. You know, back in a day in Brussels I didn’t have that much time to drive or to fly to take pictures of the “shed” and even so, it wouldn’t be original- and then they kept adding brick after brick and the building was growing and growing. OK, this book is something else because I will not and I don’t want to write things in order, that is like a punishment, everyone has to sort it out, sort it out... yes, it’s all sorted out.
And when the professors, cherishing every step, every tiny brick, declared that it is big enough, they moved in liters of ink first, hundreds of type writer to brace for the flood of students- those poor students- may be half of them actually registered- thousands of forms were issued, those poor students with empty pockets- I don’t know why I write it all, I’m tired of this, I have to, the oberstudent got stuck in my head today- I am warning you, it is at your own risk to read this. Here and there a person appears, feeds you a word- cigarette, chocolate, or sugar, more and more mysterious. Czech students are known to lounge at the other side of Isara, complaining about the world. Last time I walked by- it was right before the exams- they changed their routine and were studying anatomy, whining they had only 30 minutes before they flunk the grade.
I had to take the wooden crocks- they were louder than my artistic thoughts- to be honest, tears, I prefer to walk around the block to avoid the fallen buildings, do you wonder why? Ssh, don’t tell anyone- it is life threating there, especially after dark, you must put your feet up to make it, the beautiful love.
My beloved mama, I was sitting on the front stairs of our house when he walked by. I haven’t known him that long, yet he made my life unsettling. He is a professor at the university, a composer, from Poland. He can ruin all my determinations and goals. I don’t know how he influenced me so much. He is an artist with his body and soul, he is bound to me as I am bound to him. He started to compose for me…..art is the most beautiful gift to give a person. After such a long pause, I miraculously got an urge to create, model, paint and write with my full heart, my hands went straight for a brush, a pencil- to write…
The UNRAA University of Munich was housed in the Deutches Museum