Zakelj Diary
Home Page: http://bbhhs96.dyndns.org/~zakeljdiary/
1/18/03
Life in the Refugee Camps
1947
By Anton Žakelj, translated and
edited by John Žakelj
Wednesday, January 1, 1947
From 3 - 4 a.m. this morning, it was our barracks' turn to pray in the camp
chapel. We all went - except Mire. At dawn I wished everyone a happy New Year,
even Breznikar. He never says anything; even today, he barely replied.
This evening, my sister Mici cooked a special New Year's dinner in our room
- meat and eggs. After dinner, everyone went to bed.
We've been refugees for a year and a half now, and our situation looks more
hopeless than it did a year ago: many people think we will have to languish
here for many more years. For most of us, there is no hope for a safe return
home. There may be a little hope that we could move to America. Some people
hope that we will be saved by a revolution in Yugoslavia.
This spring, it will be two years since we left Slovenia. At one time, I had
hoped that we could return home in two years. Now I can see that won't be
possible. Maybe after 20 years?
Friday, January 3, 1947
Janko Demšar returned from Feldkirchen after 14 days. My brother Joze, who
has been living there, came with him, bringing potica, flour, klobase, clothes,
180 cigarettes, 15 little boxes of Swiss sugar and other good things. He also
brought me 500 dinars from my brother Ciril in Slovenia.
Saturday, January 4, 1947
Our friend Silva had sent us some ration cards from the Karinthian region of
Austria. Today, I took those to a number of stores in Judenburg, but at first I
couldn't find a store that would accept them. Finally, I found one that agreed
to sell me some bread and meat for them.
Sunday, January 5, 1947
As we always did at home on the evening before Epiphany, we did a procession
around our barracks this evening and prayed all 15 decades of the rosary. It
was very cold outside. After dinner, we played "spank the judge."
Monday, January 6, 1947
Today is Epiphany, the holy day of the three kings who came to adore the baby
Jesus. It's very cold outside -31C below zero (-24F)!
Wednesday, January 8, 1947
Craftspeople from our refugee camp met at Vrtacnik's barracks from 2 - 4
p.m. this afternoon. We decided to form a union, but we couldn't decide who
should be president. Somebody nominated Šepin, but he refused and instead
nominated me. However, a number of people wanted "opposition"
candidates; they thought I was too aligned with the leadership.
We met again at 8 p.m., and this time Vrtacnik the tailor was voted as president. My sister Mici was elected to the board. People are hoping this union will help us gain autonomy for our camp. The Ukrainian camp has only 9 craftspeople, the Croatian camp has 30, while our Slovenian camp has 70. That means the Slovenians contribute most of the work, but UNRRA (the United Nations Relief and Rehabilitation Administration) requires all proceeds from the sale of craft items to be divided into 3 equal parts, one to each camp. Vrtacnik and Zupan will be our leaders in our fight for a fair share.
Saturday, January 11, 1947
My brother Joze returned to Feldkirchen today after staying here with us for
a week. There is a train which runs from here to Feldkirchen twice a day. Joze
had planned to take the 2:30 train, but it was 3 hours late.
Sunday, January 12, 1947
I went to the pastry shop with Cilka and Mici this afternoon. We each got
two cups of tea and some potica.
Tuesday, January 14, 1947
We received a package today which our friend Silva had sent before
Christmas. It contained 10 pounds of flour, for which we are very grateful.
Our barracks has two groups of men who work as lumberjacks each day. Janko
Demšar, Karel Erznoznik and a few others work in Bretstein. The Kokelj
brothers, Mire and a few others work in Lind at Scheifling's.
Because she may be pregnant, Cilka received permission to receive a little
extra food in the children's dining room. The quality and amount of food we
receive changes frequently, but it's usually poor quality and not enough. Right
now, it's better than it used to be. Each person receives about half a loaf of
bread per day. In the morning, we get coffee (very weak without sugar or milk).
For lunch, we get a soup which contains peas, potatoes and some meat. For
dinner we get sauerkraut, stew and other things. The Austrians, especially the
communists, think we are fed too well and that we should be forced to leave. We
hear there was an international conference in Vienna, at which the Russians
argued that food should no longer be provided to refugees.
[Editor's note] To help you understand the situation, the following are
excerpts from Mark Wyman's book, "DPs, Europe's Displaced Persons,
1945-1951."
In 1946 and 1947 ... Austrian authorities began to seek support from any
occupation power, or from all, to oust the DPs. ... The Austrian Parliament
protested vigorously in May 1946 when the Allied Council for Austria assessed
the country's taxpayers 56 million Schillings to aid the DPs. (page 170)
Many UNRRA leaders, occupation authorities, and, increasingly, Austrian
politicians pushed for reducing or eliminating any activities that encouraged
DPs to remain where they were. (page 71)
In 1947, the UNRRA's chief for DP Operations bluntly urged all refugees
to go home. The UNRRA could not aid forcible repatriations, he admitted,
"but to remain behind is to face the most dark and doubtful of futures.
... Seize this opportunity - now," he exhorted. "Your relatives, your
friends, your country wait for you."(page 70)
Behind their fears of repatriation, in the inner recesses of each DPs
memory, were experiences under communism. Outsiders lacked such experiences.
(page 78)
It is undisputed that the fate of many returning DPs was death. Western
Allies learned little of this for years. (page 81)
Thursday, January 16, 1947
I don't know what's wrong with Franc Demšar. He's usually a very hard
worker, but now he stays in bed all day, doesn't eat, and doesn't talk. Last
month, he did some work in Sršen's shoemaking shop, but even that was
irregular. (I 
didn't
write anything about this in my diary, but I recall that Miha Sršen somehow
managed to set up a shoemaking and shoe repair shop in the refugee camp. He was
very resourceful and hard working. The shop did so well that he was soon able
to set up a bigger and better equipped shop outside the camp.)
Friday, January 17, 1947
In honor of my father's nameday, we went to Mass, and we cooked dumplings
for dinner.
Saturday, January 18, 1947
I finally received a payment from UNRRA for the lace we had delivered to the
UNRRA crafts store in Judenburg. But it was only 423 Schillings. They're
selling very little. People are saying the prices are too high.
Sunday, January 19, 1947
Cilka was crying this evening, but she wouldn't tell me why. For the first
time, I realized how hard it will be if we don't understand each other. I don't
know why she's not happy. She probably wishes I could get a better paying job.
I've asked for work in many places, but without success. I help our women sell
their lace, but that doesn't pay much. I wonder if she thinks I should be more
like her brother-in-law Mire, who travels a lot, buying and selling on the
black market. He doesn't really have anything to show for his work either.
Monday, January 20, 1947
I received a number of letters from home.
We weighed ourselves in the kitchen. Cilka weighs 132 pounds, I weigh 151,
and Mici is 174.
Wednesday, January 22, 1947
I developed a new price list for our bobbin lace. I reduced the prices
because we are paying less for thread, and my lacemakers are producing lace
faster than I expected. I included in the prices the time I spend designing the
patterns, selling the lace and obtaining raw materials. I figured my time at the
same hourly rate as the lacemakers.
( I did not include anything in the price for bad 
debts,
and I learned later that I should have. A former Nazi in the Croatian camp
asked me for samples of our bobbin lace. I gave him a number of samples because
he had a brother in Switzerland who was a merchant, and I hoped he would sell
our lace in Switzerland. But I never received any orders and he never returned
our samples. When I asked for payment, he said samples are always free.)
Friday, January 24, 1947
Since the UNRRA store has been doing so poorly, they are allowing me to
again do my own selling in the neighboring towns. I went to Weisskirchen today,
but sold only 73 Schillings worth of bobbin lace. UNRRA still requires me to
turn over to them everything I receive. They will keep something for camp
administration and then return the rest for me and my lacemakers, but we don't
know when.
Again we have some commission collecting information about everyone in the
camp. They want to know when we left Yugoslavia and why. Today, they asked to
talk with Cilka and Mire.
Saturday, January 25, 1947
Last year, I had convinced UNRRA to provide extra food rations for me and my
lacemakers. (They normally provide extra rations for people who have jobs.) It
was only a small amount of extra food, but we were so hungry, it was very
important. They eliminated my extra rations in December, and have been
gradually eliminating the extra rations for my lacemakers. Two more lost their
extra rations today. Out of 16 lacemakers, only 8 get extra rations now.
It's very cold again - 22F below zero.
Monday, January 27, 1947
We had music in our room last night to celebrate Janko's nameday.
Today I went to the Hochmetz restaurant and sold 170 Schillings worth of lace
based on the new price list. (The regional government had approved my proposed
new price list without any delay.)
This afternoon I cut and chopped wood till I was exhausted. Franc, Vinko and
Cene don't bother cutting any wood. Mire sells whatever he brings from the
woods. The Kokelj brothers and Janko Demšar bring wood to heat our barracks.
People say we will be moved to Stuttgart, in the Russian zone in West
Germany. That means we could wind up being forcibly relocated by the Russians
back to Yugoslavia.
After
7 weeks, I finally received an extra food ration card for my work with the
lacemakers. The lacemakers also got extra cards.
Tuesday, January 28, 1947
Miha Sršen fired Franc Demšar because Franc was becoming too undependable,
and not following orders.
I've been reading German and English newspapers all day. They say that an
agreement has been reached in London regarding the future of the refugees.
Very cold again - 13F below zero.
Levicar is bothering my sister Mici again, but Mici gets mad at me when I
tell her to stop seeing him. I don't want her to marry him. I don't think he
would be a good husband.
Thursday, January 30, 1947
Levicar bothered Mici again while she was working, so I reminded him to act
more like a gentleman. He became upset and stopped talking. Then he played
chess with Natlacen for a while, and he finally left - with the chess pieces.
Friday, January 31, 1947
I hear that, while I was gone from the room, Levicar came by and spoke very
angrily about me.
Saturday, February 1, 1947
UNRRA paid me 530 Schillings for lace I had provided to the UNRRA store.
They deducted 99 Schillings. I don't know what they use the deduction for.
Wednesday, February 5, 1947
This afternoon, the crafts union elected a new committee to supervise prices
for refugee products. My sister Mici is representing the lacemakers.
Thursday, February 6, 1947
I received a letter from my brother Ciril, who was recently married (in
Slovenia). Many people at the wedding signed the letter. I wish I could have
been at his wedding.
Mici finished an exceptionally beautiful lace collar to fill an order I had
obtained from a woman in Neue Siedlung. She made it from a design I drew which
was based on the size specified by the woman. We had agreed on price, but when
I delivered the lace today, the woman wanted a higher than normal credit for
the thread which she had provided. (Since thread is so hard to obtain, we
usually require people who place orders to provide us with the necessary
thread.) So I charged her more than we had agreed, and then she refused to
accept the lace. I don't know if I handled this correctly. (Many years later, I
brought this piece of lace with us to America and then sold it to Anna Jesenko.
I still think it was our most beautiful piece.)
Friday, February 7, 1947
I went to see Podhorsky because I haven't been receiving the extra food
ration card I was promised. He made some excuses and said he thought I didn't
want it, but finally gave me the smallest ration card.
Saturday, February 8, 1947
I received a letter from my brother Joze in Feldkirchen, saying that he had
received a letter from our mother in Slovenia. She writes that a group of
soldiers and tanks have camped out in the field across from Joze's house, and
their officer has moved into Joze's house. Joze's wife Francka is also still
living there, and our mother is worried that something may happen which will
destroy Joze's marriage. Joze has decided he needs to return home immediately,
regardless of the risks he may face.
Sunday, February 9, 1947
I received a telegram from Joze, saying that he is coming here tomorrow, and
that he wants to take our sister Mici back home with him on Tuesday. Mici has
become friends with Levicar, and we think it would be very bad for her if she
married him. He often bothers her, and she has turned him down when he asked
her to marry him. But she still seems to like him and may reconsider his
proposal. I don't think he would treat her well.
Monday, February 10, 1947
This afternoon, we waited for some members of the British Parliament, who
were supposed to visit our new lacemaking workshop. But they never showed up.
UNRRA had asked that our lacemakers begin working in a separate workshop,
but this isn't working well. If they work in their own barracks, they can fit
the lacemaking in with their normal household chores and get much more done.
Joze arrived from Feldkirchen at 3 p.m. He immediately asked Mici to go back home with him, but she said she would like to think about it. He replied, "You don't need to think about anything! Just pack your things and come with me!" Joze feels responsible for Mici, and he wants her to stay with him.
I
didn't get involved in the argument between Mici and Joze. Mici is our best
lacemaker, and I don't want anyone to think I would encourage her to stay here
just so she could continue to be part of our lacemaking business. (A year
later, all the single women in our camp were sent to work as maids in private
homes in Canada. Mici would not have been happy in that kind of situation, so
it's good she didn't stay with us.)
Tuesday, February 11, 1947
This morning I received permission from the regional authorities to travel
to Feldkirchen with Joze and Mici, and to buy some thread for our lacemakers.
Mici didn't go see Levicar today, because she knew he might keep her from
leaving. Around 3 p.m., we all went to the train station. Cilka, Mire, Vinko,
Milica (Zonta), and Miss Vercic went with us to see us off. Many of us cried.
We have no idea what will happen to Joze and Mici when they return home, and we
may never see them again.
At 8:15 p.m., Joze, Mici and I arrived in Celovec (Klagenfurt) and headed
for the temporary quarters of Mr. and Mrs. Jobst, where we will stay for the
night. Mr. Jobst was the organist in our home village, but the communists
forced him into exile. We had tea and talked, and then went to sleep on their
kitchen floor. Mr. and Mrs. Jobst still have children back in our home village,
and they want to go back home to them.
Wednesday, February 12, 1947
At 8:30, we went to the Kunsthaus and bought some presents for Joze and Mici
to take back to our families in Slovenia. Then we found Cilka's brother Rupert,
who has been living in this area, traveling from place to place, sewing clothes
for people who could afford to pay. Rupert says he will soon return home also.
We found out that Mici needs permission from UNRRA to return home. With this
news, Mici became hopeful that she might have to return to the refugee camp.
But Joze immediately went to the post office and sent a telegram to a higher
ranking bureaucrat in Judenburg, who quickly replied that everything would be taken
care of. At that, Mici's hopes were dashed and she again became despondent.
Around noon, we visited Mr. and Mrs. Dellafior. Joze had worked with Mr.
Dellafior when he was the regional administrator for home industries, and they
had become good friends. At one point during the war, it looked like the
Germans would draft Joze to serve in the German army, but Mr. Dellafior (who is
much older) offered to go himself and made arrangements so Joze didn't have to
go. During the war, Mr. Dellafior's offices were bombed, but he survived.
Today, I reached an agreement with Mr. Dellafior for sale of our bobbin lace
in Celovec (Klagenfurt). Around 3 p.m., we said goodbye to the Dellafiors and
boarded the train for Feldkirchen. The train moved so slowly that Joze wanted
to get off and walk the rest of the way - despite the rain. But we all stayed
on, and we arrived in Feldkirchen at 7:30. Mici went to spend the night with
our friends Tomaz and Dora, and I went with Joze to his apartment.
Thursday, February 13, 1947
We stayed in Joze's apartment today, preparing for his (and my sister's)
return home. Joze looked for his official papers while Mici baked a potica. It
appeared Joze might have an opportunity to get a ride with an Englishman, but
that didn't work out. We were up till midnight helping Joze pack. He is
convinced that the next few days are critical for his future, and that he must
get back home to his wife as quickly as possible.
Friday, February 14, 1947
We got up at 5 a.m., finished getting everything ready and left Joze's
apartment with 5 suitcases at 6:30. He is even taking his bicycle with him. But
he asked me to take his radio and a box of flour and cloth.
I accompanied them to the border crossing at Beljak (Villach). The police
had some questions about the radio. Joze told them I need to take it with me
for repairs.
At 9:30 we said good-bye at the train station. Mici cried. She was still
hoping that we might let her return with me to the refugee camp, but Joze
insisted she had to return home with him. Even I had tears in my eyes. This may
be the last time I see any member of my family. I will be the only one from my
family outside Slovenia. I never wanted to leave home, but now I've been cast
out to the world, alone.
By late afternoon, I arrived back at the refugee camp, back to what is now
my home, to my wife Cilka, who is now my only family.
Saturday, February 15, 1947
A letter arrived at the camp from our mother for Mici. We also received two
letters from our friend Silva with ration cards for 12 pounds of flour and 2
pounds of meat. Cilka baked a potica.
Sunday, February 16, 1947
I wrote letters to my mother, to Mici, and others. I also listened to Joze's
radio. It's a very good multi-band radio, but it does need some repair.. The
reception was also interrupted by frequent outages in our camp's electricity.
Monday, February 17, 1947
I put together a 10 pound package for my family in Slovenia. I send any
extra clothes and food that I can obtain here. I know the shortages there are
as bad, or worse, than here in the refugee camp.
Tuesday, February 18, 1947
Mire finally returned to work with the loggers today, after resting for a
week. They threatened to fire him if he didn't return. Today is
"Pust," the last day before Lent. We had some special food to
celebrate. In the evening, we attended a play put on by fellow refugees, but it
was boring and poorly done.
I took the radio in for repairs. I received another package from Silva -
coffee and corn flour.
Wednesday, February 19, 1947
We had special prayers in the chapel from 1 - 2 a.m.
Franc Demšar (one of our roommates) is talking with other people now, but
not with me or Cilka, I don't know why.
Thursday, February 20, 1947
The radio is fixed - for 25 Schillings and 10 British cigarettes. Due to
rumors about a required exchange of Austrian money, the value of cigarettes has
almost doubled. Some people prefer to be paid in cigarettes. British cigarettes
are worth twice as much as the local brands.
This afternoon I cut firewood. Everyone in our room is supposed to help
obtain and cut firewood (to heat our room), but some of them manage to evade
that responsibility.
Everyone in our room received mail today, except Janko and Pavle. I received
letters from my sister Julka and my friend Škofic. Julka went to Škofic to
retrieve some shoemaking leather, shoes and other things I had left with him
when Cilka and I had to leave as refugees. Škofic says the communists took
everything he had, including the things I left with him. They even took his
land.
Saturday, February 22, 1947
I
took some lace to Weisskirchen today and obtained 4 pounds of rye bread and 3
pounds of white bread.
Friday, February 28, 1947
This evening I sold 274 Schillings worth of bobbin lace at the hospital.
After we pay our expenses (including the other lacemakers), Cilka and I
divide our income into three parts: we keep one-third for ourselves, we send
one-third to our families in Slovenia, and we reinvest one-third in producing
more lace.
Saturday, March 1, 1947
This morning I sold 175 Schillings worth of lace at the public health
offices.
Cilka, Mire and I have now saved enough food to provide adequate supplements
to the camp food for 3 months. With the constant changes in the amount provided
by the camp, it is very important to have a backup supply. Right now the camp
food is very bad - mostly watery soup.
[Editor's note] Here is an excerpt from Mark Wyman's book "DPs" to
help you understand what the camp food was like:
Horrible food seemed universal at times. Some camps became infamous for
unpalatable provisions, and this reputation helped steer DPs away. By common
consent, however, one frequent item in the UNRRA menu was so distasteful and so
frequently offered that the mention of it today causes former DPs to wrinkle
their noses: split-pea soup. Latvian DPs called it ... "green
horror." One Latvian recalled that a major problem with split-pea soup in
the camps was its lack of meat - there was usually no meat whatsoever. As they
entered the dining area, the cry went out: "Are we getting the 'green
horror' again?" A Slovenian echoed this, remembering with disgust that
split-pea soup was served twice a day in his camp for some time: "I said
'I will never eat that again.' "
Sometimes there were other items, such as cabbage soup, potatoes and
bread, but the usual problem was simply too much of one thing. That was one of
the drawbacks with split peas, but it occurred as well with beans and corn
bread, among other items. ("The corn bread would be weeks old; we had to
soak it to use it. We would get nothing but corn bread for months; then all
split pea.") Visitors said that such a diet could do nothing but maintain
"a lusterless sort of physical life - it gives the DP look, which is not
as gaunt and starved as it is tired and bloodless." (page 54)
Sunday, March 2, 1947
This afternoon, we attended the solemn blessing of the new Stations of the
Cross in the camp chapel.
Monday, March 3, 1947
I received my first letter from my sister Mici in Slovenia. When she wrote
the letter, she and my brother Joze had not been able to get all the way back
to our home village yet. She says they were stopped by snow in Škofja Loka.
Other than that, she says she is well.
Tuesday, March 4, 1947
Mire lost his logging job. Cilka will no longer receive her supplemental
food ration. We are getting only about 1,000 calories a day from the camp
kitchen (2,000 is the average that is recommended for adults). Cilka is cooking
our own food in our room 1 - 2 times a day to supplement the camp food.
Wednesday, March 5, 1947
After many delays, UNRRA finally paid me back 2,000 Schillings out of the
3,000 I had turned over to them from my sales of bobbin lace. (I am required to
hand over all proceeds from my sales. They keep far too much for camp
administration, and then I use the rest to pay our lacemakers and buy raw
materials. I pay myself and Cilka at the same hourly rate as everyone else.)
Thursday, March 6, 1947
I received a letter from my sister Mici - her first letter after she and my
brother Joze arrived back home in Slovenia. She writes that she arrived sick.
There are shortages of food, cigarettes, clothes and other things, but people
are allowed to speak a little more freely.
Monday, March 10, 1947
Today the Red Cross took me to Salzburg to see a doctor about new false
teeth. The false teeth I have were made for me many years ago, when I still had
a few of my own teeth. Last year, I lost the last of my own teeth, and now my
false teeth don't work well. The doctor here says I may be getting ulcers
because I can't chew my food.
The ride in the Red Cross auto was long and difficult. We left Judenburg at
8 a.m. and arrived in Salzburg at 4:30 p.m.. But the scenery was beautiful,
especially the Salzach valley, including Schladning and other places. We
crossed a mountain pass that had so much snow that we barely made it through. I
got motion sickness in the car and was throwing up..
At 6:30 p.m., I was measured for new teeth. Then they drove me to a camp to
stay overnight.
Tuesday, March 11, 1947
Today I was allowed to walk around Salzburg. I visited friends of Vinko
Krzišnik (one of our roommates back at our camp). They gave me some food ration
cards. Then I went to Majer's, where I sold 300 Schillings worth of bobbin
lace. Majer showed me a large lace tablecloth which had been made by Vinko's
cousin, Marijana.
The city of Salzburg does not seem to have been damaged much by the war. I
saw many large American cars. In the clinic, I saw Hungarians, Poles and
Ukrainians.
Wednesday, March 12, 1947
From
11 a.m. to 2 p.m., they did more measurements for my new teeth. Then we left
for Judenburg, and arrived back at our camp at 10 p.m. Today I ate more and
felt better than I did going to Salzburg on Monday.
Thursday, March 13, 1947
Our daily ration of bread has been cut almost in half.
Friday, March 14, 1947
The Makovec and Ovijac families left the camp today to return home to
Slovenia. I worked on bobbin lace designs. I also went to town and bought 5
pounds of apples.
Saturday, March 15, 1947
UNRRA paid me only half as much as I had expected for lace we had given them
for sale.
We received ration cards from our friend Silva for 6 pounds of bread and 2
pounds of meat.
Sunday, March 16, 1947
I wrote letters to my brothers Stanko and Janez, and to my sister Mici. In
the afternoon, Cilka and I went to the pastry shop.
Monday, March 17, 1947
Mire was very pleased to receive a package from his relatives in America -
400 cigarettes and a can of meat.
Tuesday, March 18, 1947
We each received 13 pounds of apples. We also got shots to protect us from
typhus.
I had an argument with Büchsel, the head of the UNRRA work office. He says
we're not making enough bobbin lace for them.
Wednesday, March 19, 1947
I put together four packages for family members and friends in Slovenia.
Since we live with shortages here ourselves, we know how difficult that can be.
So we send our families anything we can find that we don't need here - we go to
stores, garbage dumps, anywhere. We send them thermos bottles, pieces of old
cloth, sacks, anything that might be useful. We hear that our family members
have to give the post office part of everything we send. If they don't, things
like thermos bottles get broken or lost.
This afternoon, we went into Judenburg to see a display of refugee
handcrafts. The British staff at UNRRA chose the best items in each of three
categories. For the first category, art, they chose a painting of Judenburg by
Filipic. In the second category, practical art, they chose some of our bobbin
lace and a quilt tablecloth. For the third category, practical items, they
chose a horsehair brush and an ironing board made by Jozef Zorko.
UNRRA director Daintree made a speech, congratulating us and promising to
deliver prizes tomorrow. He also advised everyone to make plans to return to
our homes, because there are no other countries willing to take us.
Thursday, March 20, 1947
Mire dug ditches around our barracks to drain the rainwater.
Cviljušac (another employee in the UNRRA office) asked me how many meters of
bobbin lace can be made in one hour. Director Daintree wants 21 meters of a
certain style of lace border, but he thinks the price we are asking is too
high. I told him it takes a good lacemaker one day to make 3/4 of a meter.
Cviljušac didn't believe me, so he asked one of the lacemakers, and she told
him the same thing.
Cviljušac is worried we will be accused of selling lace at too high a price
on the black market. I'm not worried about that - I've followed all the rules.
Everyone else sells on the black market, but I have been aboveboard and legal
about everything. People think I must be rich because I have so many lacemakers
working for me, but I get paid at the same hourly rate they do.
Friday, March 21, 1947
Three more families - Klopcic, Naret(?) and Vodnik left our camp to return
to Slovenia today. Vodnik is an amazing man - he could make or fix anything. In
the camp, he made boots, clothes, parts for sewing machines, and other things.
Every evening, he would line up his family, and each member had to report what
they got done that day.
Saturday, March 22, 1947
I received a letter from my sister Mici. It's been about a month now since
she returned home from our refugee camp. She still regrets leaving the camp,
mostly because she had to leave her friend Levicar. But our brother Joze seems
satisfied so far, especially happy that his wife stayed faithful to him, even
while the officer from the tank unit was living in his house. (I heard later
that his wife was very upset when she heard some of the rumors that had been
spread about her.)
Sunday, March 23, 1947
This afternoon Cilka and I went to the pastry shop. Some of their prices are
very reasonable.
Tuesday, March 25, 1947
I mailed Easter packages to my mother and Cilka's mother in Slovenia. The
packages include small amounts of coffee, chocolate, candy, combs,
handkerchiefs, and other things which we had bought using money we earned from
selling bobbin lace.
This evening, the refugee group "Oven" put on a play called
"The Chain." It was very well done. The UNRRA director spoke
afterwards and encouraged everyone to make plans to go back home. He said that
not more than one-fifth of us (only single, healthy workers) will be accepted
for resettlement by other countries and even that will take years.
We finally received the prizes we were promised last week at the craft show
- each person received 20 cigarettes, a bar of soap, shaving soap, and a chocolate
bar.
Wednesday, March 26, 1947
This afternoon, we made 4 pounds of marmalade out of 10 pounds of apples. We
received 30 pounds of apples during the past week, and they are quickly going
bad.
Thursday, March 27, 1947
Cilka baked apple strudel.
We said goodbye to Miss Russon, who is leaving for work elsewhere. She has
been the UNRRA welfare worker at our camp. Sometimes she seemed unfriendly, but
she worked very hard for us. She had no patience for long-winded Croatians. The
best way to get things done with her was to say one word: "Bread!" or
"Thread!" When she drove her jeep to Trieste, she would usually bring
us back raw materials such as thread for bobbin lace, multi-colored yarn for
knitting, paint (which I gave to Slavko Smole, who used it to paint the
children's dining room), and so on. I don't think the new welfare worker will
be as helpful.
We gave Miss Russon three heart-shaped pieces of bobbin lace as a sign of
our gratitude for her work. She was very thankful for our gift.
I received a letter from my sister Mici, written on the back of a design for
bobbin lace. She's sick and still regretting that she returned home. She says
our father is in the hospital, but doesn't say why.
Friday, March 28, 1947
Mire returned from a week-long trip to Celovec (Klagenfurt) (probably buying
and selling on the black market). Marjan Kocmur came with him, bringing about
60 pictures which he had developed since the last time he visited our camp. A
number of pictures of my sister Mici were included. When Kocmur visits a camp,
he takes pictures of everyday life and then asks people if they want to buy
copies. Usually, I pay him for an entire batch and then I distribute the
pictures to individuals at a small markup. Sometimes, I lose money because some
people change their mind and decide they don't want the pictures.
Vrtacnik, the tailor, and his family left the camp today to return to
Slovenia.
We listened to a British official speak in the camp hall. He urged everyone to
return home. That prompted a heated debate.
Saturday, March 29, 1947
I went shopping in Judenburg to buy things for everyone in our room. (Cilka
made me a large canvas and leather backpack for these shopping trips.)
Sometimes I have so much stuffed in my backpack, I look like a pack mule. It
makes sense for me to do the shopping for our roommates: I know German better
than the rest, I have the time, and I am good at buying and selling things.
It's a lot of work without any rewards. The worst part is that my roommates
have at times questioned whether I kept some of their money for myself. My only
reward - and the best reward - is when I see their satisfaction.
This morning, we concluded a week of special religious exercises, led by Dr.
Robic. Every day from 6 a.m. to 8 a.m. we prayed and meditated.
Dr. Erman brought me a postcard which my sister Mici had sent to the camp,
addressed to Janez Telban but clearly intended for Janez Levicar. I can see
that she still misses him. But I think he would not have treated her well, and
I am glad they didn't get married.
I also received a letter from my father, who is in the hospital for his
eyes.
Sunday, March 30, 1947
I wrote letters to my sister, my father and mother, my brother, and to a
couple friends. In the afternoon, Cilka and I walked to the pastry shop.
Monday, March 31, 1947
Our roommate Franc Demšar left yesterday on a trip to the surrounding
countryside to sell shoes, but he hasn't returned yet.
Mire began working at the Zeltweg airport, where the British are clearing
out the German flight training facilities. He likes the job because they give
him a good lunch with a fourth of a loaf of white bread. The British are
burning the furniture and the paperwork which the Germans had left. Amongst all
the old papers, Mire found an American military document (marked
"Secret") with pictures taken by American fighter planes when they
attacked our home village during the war. (At that time, we were under German
occupation.) One of the pictures clearly shows our village church of St. Martin
from the warplane's viewpoint. Four people died in our village that day.
The British are finding large quantities of German bombs and munitions. They
transport these bombs across the river to a wooded area where they have
excavated a large hole in the ground. They put the bombs into the hole and
detonate them. People are saying that we can expect to see trainloads of
American bombs arriving, to be destroyed in the same manner.
We finished a large quantity of lace border which the UNRRA director (an
Englishman) had requested, but now he is offering to pay only for the value of
the thread. Was he expecting us to work for nothing? What a miser! The British
are all the same: they all expect to get things for free, none of them want to
pay. (Fifty-six years later, we still have that lace border!)
Tuesday, April 1, 1947
We received a very welcome package of food from our friend Silva.
We heard that our roommate, Franc Demšar, is in jail, apparently because he
was more than 10 kilometers (6 miles) from the camp, without official
permission.
Wednesday, April 2, 1947
I worked all day on 3 broken bicycles which belong to people in our room. I
hoped to make at least one good one out of the 3, but I couldn't find two good
tires.
Friday, April 4, 1947, Good Friday
Cilka woke at 5 a.m. to bake a potica for Easter.
I visited Franc Demšar in jail. Since the jail provides very little food for
prisoners, I brought him 9 pounds of apples, 2 pounds of bread, a little bit of
butter and sugar, and 10 cigarettes. I read in the paper that he was arrested
because he was riding his bike at night without lights. When he was arrested,
he was carrying 13 pounds of bacon and 15 pounds of flour, probably food he had
obtained as payment for shoes he had made or repaired.
Saturday, April 5, 1947
I couldn't fall asleep till 1 a.m. last night, due to the rain leaking
through our roof. We've tried patching the roof with sheet metal, but nothing
seems to work.
I used a friend's bicycle to go to Weisskirchen, to sell lace and obtain
some treats for Easter, but without success.
This afternoon, Cilka, Mire and I each received 3 letters. At 4 p.m., we
went to the camp chapel for the traditional Easter blessing of food. Cilka took
potica, sausage, eggs, apples and horseradish - special food which we had
earned through our sale of bobbin lace. We had a good dinner. At 6:30 p.m.,
everyone in the camp went to a solemn Easter procession. With Racic, Cec and
Zupan, I helped carry a new canopy at the head of the procession. The singing
and the weather were beautiful.
Mire helped with the ringing of a new bell which Gosar and Košir had made
out of damaged airplane aluminum specially for this occasion. Next to the
chapel, we have a 6-foot wooden tower where we had previously hung a steel rail
for a bell. For Easter, they removed the steel rail and installed the new
aluminum bell. Unfortunately, it didn't sound as good as the steel rail. The
bell had sounded alright when they were working on it in the workshop, but when
they hung it in the tower, it sounded like tin.
After the church service, we listened to my brother's radio in our room. The
reception was unusually clear. For the first time, we were able to hear radio
Ljubljana.
Sunday, April 6, 1947, Easter
We went to Mass at 6 a.m. and 8 a.m. The singing was beautiful, and we were
inspired by a sermon about Christ's resurrection, and the hope that justice
will someday prevail.
For lunch we had a good soup from the camp kitchen and Cilka baked some
potatoes and meat in our room.
In the afternoon, our friends Tomaz and Dora arrived on a visit from
Feldkirchen. It was a nice warm afternoon. We walked to the church at Maria
Buch. In the evening, we had a good dinner of pork and macaroni.
We are very happy with the way we were able to celebrate Easter today. We
had good food, and enough of it - a stark contrast to last year, when we were
literally starving.
Friday, April 11, 1947
Our roommate Franc Demšar has been sentenced to 1 - 3 months in jail. The
camp informed us that we will no longer receive food rations for him. I brought
him a large package today: bread, apples, bacon, cigarettes, clothes, and so
on. The jailer wouldn't let me talk with him. I heard they may move him to
Graz, which is about 40 miles away.
For the rest of the day, I worked on a bobbin lace design to fill an order
from Dr. Potokar.
Saturday, April 12, 1947
I sold 170 Schillings worth of bobbin lace at the hospital today.
My brother's radio worked well for a week after I had it repaired, but today
I took it in for repairs again. I think it's breaking down because of the
constant variation in our electric voltage. The electrical transformer for the
camp is overloaded and often shuts down. We have been asked to not use electric
hot plates in the evening, but nobody pays any attention. The wire which runs
through our room to Zupan's room glows all night. When will it start a fire?
Mire returned from his job at Zeltweg in a bad mood; he injured his arm
while doing heavy manual labor.
Sunday, April 13, 1947
The camp kitchen made polenta and goulash for lunch. In the evening, we
cooked potatoes and goulash in our room. In the afternoon, our roommates walked
to the church at Maria Buch, while Cilka and I stayed back and wrote letters.
Cilka and I are finding differences between us: We think differently about
money. I like to go for long and fast walks. She likes to go for walks in
nature, but then she gets tired quickly. She was crying about our differences
today. I don't know what to do.
Monday, April 14, 1947
Mire and most of his coworkers refused to go to their jobs in Zeltweg today,
to protest their poor working conditions (only 10 out of 40 went). The British
seem willing to make some changes.
One of the refugees in our camp sold some white flour to some Serbians. They
told the authorities that it was stolen flour. The police talked to the person
who sold it, and he said that one of our camp leaders, Dr. Est, was involved in
obtaining the flour. The police arrested both of them.
Wednesday, April 16, 1947
I went to Fohnsdorf and got orders for 420 Schillings of bobbin lace.
The Austrian police searched barracks 13 and 16 and arrested 6 people,
including Rudolf Primozic, probably because they found some leather drive belts
in his room. He had probably bought them so he could make something out of the
leather, but apparently they had been stolen.
A total of 16 people from our camp are in prison now. A particular policeman
seems intent on making life difficult for us.
Thursday, April 17, 1947
Mire returned to work at Zeltweg.
UNRRA has now repaid me most of what they owed me for lace sales. They still
keep part of what we sell, but they really have no expenses. I do all the
selling myself, while other people take their products to the UNRRA store and
wait for UNRRA to sell them.
Dr. Est, Štrukelj and J. Zupan were all sentenced to a month in jail for schwarzhandel
- buying and selling on the black market.
[Editor's note:] Mark Wyman has some interesting comments about the black
market in his book "DPs, Europe's Displaced Persons, 1945-1951" (page
116):
A Ukrainian DP recalled that "food was number one" in his
camp's black market, with forays into the countryside to illegally barter with
German farmers. The acquisition of bread, sugar, flour, vegetables, fruit and
similar items helped enrich the dismal diet of the camps. When investigations
were conducted into black market activity at the ... DP camps, the extent of
illegal trade was discovered to be enormous. "Blankets issued to the
refugees, food from their kitchens and articles of clothing ... all find their way
into the illicit trade," the New York Times reported in January 1946.
Efforts to thwart the illegal trading made little headway on a continent
where millions were participating in it - most notably the occupying troops.
... UNRRA authorities were sensitive to the continuing complaints that DPs
controlled the black market, and in November 1946 the organization's director
ordered drastic steps to suppress DP black marketing ...
Friday, April 18, 1947
I went to Rauscher's to pick up the repaired radio. It was fixed by J.
Jeric, who told me he was asked to take over one of the camp's paid leadership
jobs, but he refused. The radio works well now.
Saturday, April 19, 1947
This morning, I was summoned to meet with the camp's new welfare officer to make plans regarding repatriation (returning home to Slovenia.) I told her I cannot return to Slovenia. If the UNRRA camps are dissolved, Cilka and I will stay in Austria.
.
Sunday, April 20, 1947
This morning, I wrote letters to my mother and my brothers and sisters in
Slovenia. In the afternoon, Cilka and I walked to the castle ruins on the
nearby hillside.
Our roommate Cene put together a package for his relatives in Slovenia, just
as he does every week. He included shoes, socks, clothes and other things. I
have sent things like that to my relatives, but now it's too risky. If the
authorities find a refugee sending materials like that, they suspect the person
of stealing or illegal trading. I told Cene I would not take his package to the
post office.
Monday, April 21, 1947
We hear rumors that 90 of the 120 craftspeople in our camp will no longer be
able to work in the camp. They will be required to get jobs outside the camp.
Babnik, Sršen and others will actually be expelled because they were too
critical of the camp leadership.
Tuesday, April 22, 1947
Mr. and Mrs. Oven are sick with diphtheria. The entire camp is under
quarantine; nobody is allowed to come or go.
Wednesday, April 23, 1947
More than 50 of our craftspeople received requests to report to the work
office. Most of the local jobs which are available to refugees are inhumane.
Our friend Mici Erznoznik cried when she learned that she and her husband Karl
would have to report. I went with them to the office to help interpret. She was
allowed to return to lacemaking in the camp, but Karl was assigned to a highway
construction crew in Fohnsdorf.
A total of 22 people from our camp were assigned to work on area farms,
including three of our lacemakers. When Hitler was in power, Slavic people were
assigned to German and Austrian farmers. The farmers were allowed to treat them
like slaves.
This afternoon, a representative of the Yugoslav repatriation commission was
in the camp again. This time, there were more people interested in talking with
him.
The diphtheria quarantine is not being enforced.
Thursday, April 24, 1947
This morning, I rode my bicycle to Fohnsdorf, where I sold 25 pieces of lace
for 372 Schillings.
Karl Erznoznik, Babnik, Košir and Šušteršic began working at Zeltweg today.
Helena, Anica and Mrs. Košir began working in a tree nursery.
Two days ago, the police searched barracks number 10, where they seized a
typewriter belonging to Cebašek. Today they searched barracks 7, but didn't
take anything. In barracks 36, they found some leather belonging to Zupancic.
Janez had to take it to the police station. Our roommate Pavle is very upset
about all this. He says he will fight rather than let them take anything from
him. His brother Franc tries to calm him down, but Franc is angry also; he says
he will leave the camp if they take anything from him.
Friday, April 25, 1947
UNRRA issued strict rules to prevent the spread of diphtheria and scarlet
fever. These are very dangerous diseases, especially for children. The school
and the chapel will be closed for 6 weeks. Nobody is allowed to leave the camp
without permission from a doctor. People with jobs will have to stay in the
camp.
Despite the quarantine, I went to Judenburg without permission to take food
to our friend Franc Demšar, who is still in jail. This time, the jailer allowed
me to see him, but he still wouldn't let me talk with him.
This afternoon, we were each given half a pound of fresh fish and some
frozen eggs. Since we have no way to refrigerate the eggs, we had to cook them
immediately.
The radio is working well - we listen to Slovenian broadcasts from
Ljubljana, Trieste and Belgrade.
Sunday, April 27, 1947
I wrote letters to my brother Stanko and my sister Mici. In the afternoon,
Cilka and I went to a nearby auto junkyard looking for things we could use.
Štefan Zorc and Joza Zalaznik were married in the camp today.
I tried making some wooden shoes for myself (since we can't get enough
leather), but they're really not useable.
Tuesday, April 29, 1947
I helped Cilka prepare leather uppers for the shoes she is making with a
master shoemaker in Judenburg.
Police searched Zupancic's barracks again.
The new welfare officer asked me if I had any lace to send to Miss Russon. I
told her I don't have any right now.
Wednesday, April 30, 1947
Today we each received new cigarette rations: 20 of the cheapest brand, 20
of a medium brand, and 10 of a more expensive brand. Since I don't smoke, I
will be able to trade these for food and other things.
We heard rumors that the communists will attack the camp tomorrow - on May
1. People from our camp have been assigned to stand guard through the night.
Thursday, May 1, 1947
Our "guards" walked around the camp all night, on the lookout for
a communist attack. At one point in the night, Vašl (one of our fellow
refugees) stepped outside his barracks to see what was going on. Ristic, one of
the "guards," yelled out, "Hände hoch!" (Hands
up!) Ristic realized it was not a communist, but he grabbed him, just to play a
joke on him. Vašl, barefoot and wearing nothing but underwear, thought he was
being attacked by communists. He began running around, yelling "Help!
Help!" Today we laughed all day about that. Even so, the guards stayed on
their lookouts, just in case of a real attack.
For the first time in 3 weeks, Cilka sewed shoes today at Russheim's, the
shoemaker in Judenburg. Lately, she has been sewing shoes mostly for Miha
Sršen, who has his own shop with a sewing machine for leather.
Our camp has organized guards to be on the lookout all night tonight. Almost
all the men are participating, except the men from my barracks. I'm not sure
why they didn't ask us to join them. Maybe because we said we didn't believe
there would be an attack? Maybe they wonder why so many men from my village are
still alive? Why didn't more of our men go back to Slovenia two years ago with
the Domobranci, to be tortured and killed?
Sometimes our barracks learns about "dangers" long after they were
supposed to occur. At least that means we sleep at night while everyone else
worries about the latest danger.
Friday, May 2, 1947
Another night passed without a communist attack.
At 7 p.m., we went to the camp chapel for May devotions, and again at 11
p.m. for additional prayers.
Sunday, May 4, 1947
This afternoon, Cilka and I walked with our roommate Cene to the nearby
towns of Aichdorf and Hetzendorf. Cene was happy to find an inn which had beer
(beer has been hard to find). Only one small glass of beer was allowed per
customer, so he ordered a beer for each of us and drank all of them.
Monday, May 5, 1947
I was working on a lace design at 9 a.m. today when five policemen arrived
to search our room. When they arrived, they said "Show us your typewriter,
we need to do an investigation! " I told them we had nothing to hide and
pointed to the typewriter on the table. Mire bought it for me a year ago with
our hard-earned money. They insisted it must be stolen and confiscated it. Then
they spent the next 4 hours going through our room and the neighboring barracks
(the laundry). They took some canvas that belonged to Mire, 18 cans of food
which the Kokelj brothers had received as payment for their logging work, and
50 pounds of flour. And they confiscated some English underwear, some auto
parts, and saccharin tablets - all on suspicion of being stolen or black
market. While they were going through everything, Cilka lay in bed, sick.
When Mire, Franc and Pavle returned from their jobs at 5 p.m., they were
very upset and immediately went to the police station. Franc was able to get
his cans of food back, but that was it.
I realized later that probably the reason why they came for my typewriter is
that I had used it to help a friend write letters to the UNRRA director,
alleging corruption among the camp leadership. Joze Zorko would come to me
every day and ask me to type letters for him in German. "My complaints
will be more effective if they are typed," he would say. He had evidence
to back up his allegations. I'm sure they matched the typing on those letters
with my typewriter.
The refugee camps are supposed to be "out of bounds" for the
Austrian police, but they come frequently, they do their searches, and take
whatever they want. I wouldn't be opposed if they took things that had truly
been stolen. But what can we do when they take food and other things that we
have earned with our hard work? To whom can I complain? To God?
The police say we couldn't possibly have so much extra food, it must be
stolen. But often, that is how our men get paid for their work - they get cans,
flour, and so on. The camp food is very unreliable, so we save as much of our
own food as we can - for those frequent days when the camp food is inadequate.
In the evening, we had no electricity, so we sat in our room in the darkness and talked. Cene said he won't work so hard any more. There's no point in saving anything - the police will just come and take it.
.
Tuesday, May 6, 1947
Franc obtained documentation from UNRRA that he and Pavle were each being
paid 3 pounds of flour per week for their work. He took that to the police to
prove that the 50 pounds of flour in our room was earned, not stolen, but the
police wouldn't return it. The police refuse to believe that Franc and Pavle
could have saved so much flour.
In the evening, the entire camp was dark, without electricity. A number of
people got into a heated argument.
Wednesday, May 7, 1947
I finished a beautiful lace design to fill an order from Miss Thompson, a
new UNRRA worker.
Thursday, May 8, 1947
Miss Thompson liked my design, but I can't get enough thread to make the
lace.
People are saying that we will all be required to quit lacemaking and get
regular jobs.
Today, I was feeling sick, just like Cilka a few days ago. Mire teased me,
saying I must be pregnant.
Three Ukrainians worked on the camp's electric wires, but our room continued
to be dark. Vinko (one of our roommate) ran a wire to our barracks from an
adjoining barracks that has electricity.
Friday, May 9, 1947
Two years have passed since we became refugees. How many more? 2 x 2? We
want to return home - if only our homeland were free.
Today I felt better, and worked on lace designs again.
Saturday, May 10, 1947
This afternoon, I went to the offices of the regional government and talked
with the commissioner for price controls, to make sure we are selling our lace
at legal prices. He said our prices are not too high and, in any case, I need
not worry because lace is considered a luxury and therefore its price is not
controlled.
Tuesday, May 13, 1947
Today, I traveled by train and bicycle to a large store in Wolfsberg, where
I sold 657 Schillings worth of lace, and took orders for $3,200 Schillings
more. They especially like my design #11 for a lace collar. We will have more
than enough work for the women in our camp who know how to make bobbin lace.
Wednesday, May 14, 1947
I received a request to report to the work office. One of the officials
there said I will be able to continue my lace work, but another said I will
have to get a regular job. Some people, such as Mire, are traveling 30 miles
and further, looking for jobs. I couldn't stand traveling that much every day.
Thursday, May 15, 1947
Today was the holy day of the Ascension. We went to Masses at 6:30 a.m. and
8 a.m. At 9 a.m., I went to Zeltweg with a group of men who are looking for
work, but there was nothing.
This afternoon I wrote to my mother for her birthday.
Friday, May 16, 1947
Lately, I've been successful in getting more orders from people in the
surrounding area wanting to buy our bobbin lace. But many of my lacemakers have
been required by UNRRA to get work outside the camp, and it looks like more
will have to go, which means I won't have enough lacemakers to fill the orders.
So today, I wrote to Marica Peternel in the Spittal camp to ask about women
there who could help fill our orders.
I talked with engineer Wollman, who had ordered a large quantity of lace. I
told him we will have problems filling his order because we are being required
to get jobs outside the camp. He replied: "Just keep working, I'll take
care of everything!" "My heartfelt thanks to you," I said.
Saturday, May 17, 1947
UNRRA continues to require me to hand over to the camp administration all
proceeds from sales of bobbin lace. They are supposed to return most of the
money, but that often takes weeks or longer. Their payment is late again
because their worker didn't get the paperwork done. I had promised my
lacemakers I would pay them today, but since UNRRA hasn't paid me, I had to
borrow money so I could pay the lacemakers.
Monday, May 19, 1947
The camp food has been so watery lately, it doesn't even provide a person
with enough energy to die. Cilka has been cooking potatoes in our room 4 times
a day to supplement the camp food, but we're still feeling hungry.
Today I drew designs for bobbin lace while I waited for Dr. Berezhansky, the
new head of the UNRRA work office, who wanted to review our work and our use of
thread for lace. He didn't show up.
Mire (Cilka's brother-in-law) is in a bad mood because he's run out of cigarettes.
I sold him 17 British cigarettes at 5 Schillings each, though I could have sold
to them to others at 40.
Wednesday, May 21, 1947
A number of people from our camp have applied to emigrate to Canada,
Argentina, Venezuela, England, Belgium and France. We hear that prospects for
emigration are looking better.
I repaired our barracks all day, trying to fix the rain leaks, or at least
channel the water so it runs to the outside after it gets into our room. We
just don't seem to be able to fix the roof.
Friday, May 23, 1947
I took 8 loaves of bread to our friends Hace and Bogataj, who were sentenced
to 14 days in prison for not cooperating with the investigation regarding the
leather and other items found in the neighboring barracks.
Cilka and I are thinking about applying for Canada or America. I bought an
English-Slovenian dictionary (by Dr. Kern) for 60 Schillings.
Saturday, May 24, 1947
For the first time in many months, I am broke and I have a cold, so I don't
feel well.
Mire would really like to send something to help his relatives in Slovenia,
but all he has is debts to pay. And we can't help him either.