#PERIOD AFTER Jasmina Tesanovic - 28/04/1999- Belgrade


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April 28th, 99
Last night my friend came over to my place, we were sitting and planning how to go on with our Feminist Publisher 94: the last book we published was "The Origins of Totalitarianism" by Hannah Arendt, two days before the bombing. What would Hannah Arendt say of being published by feminists in the middle of a war again in Europe! We got nervous, it was 1.a.m. and there was no alarm: we didn't know what to do, as many people in Belgrade I heard; it is called the alarm neurosis. But the explosions immediately came: very strong, the windows were opening, the building shaking, fireworks in the air. The Yugoslav aircraft responded heavily and then the thunder and lightening with heavy rain. I think it was also full moon. We all went to bed together, to one big bed with children's toys and many cushions and we went to sleep. I guess you can call it candid semblance of death... The cleaning lady came late this morning: she said, no buses, no petrol, I've spent all night in the shelter but I don't believe anymore we will win this war. My friends child said: Hurrah: "We have no music classes anymore, our teacher has became a sniperist." I remember the young man, a great talent he was in the music academy. My friend's son serving the regular army phones regularly: he is afraid and cold, but alive. He takes tranquilizers and smokes cigarettes. She stopped eating and laughs all the time. Then the news this morning: we cannot understand what was hit, we understand that NATO made another mistake in a village of South Serbia: again collateral damage, this time children in a "safe" shelter... I wonder how many people in Belgrade go to the shelter, I still see groups of them in front of it every night, smoking and drinking, but I wonder if it is by now socializing or still true fear... Petrol rations, 20 liters per month: market full of items of all kinds, of people selling and buying, cash still available... this kind of war economy we have mastered, all these years and many before in ex Yugoslavia... Petrol on black market costs only twice more... Only now my father tells me what was hit last night: the so called Marshall's house: I don't even know what it is, what is it for, I know it is next to the White Palace, the working place of kings, presidents... One good news: on BBC I see that probably the Hungarians will be putting up a refugee camp near Budapest: this time for Serbs, even though they are treated officially as tourists. I feel safer now, if we have to leave I don't want to go in somebody' s country, somebody's place, on somebody's back... I don't want my child to be looked upon with fear or her to look back with fear. Nobody's land with other people in the same situation, children playing in the dust, eating together, speaking openly of their fears... That is the only decent solution for us who have suffered somebody else's war. All kinds of people, intellectuals, street sellers, taxi drivers are speculating on what is going on in high politics: who will surrender, who will win, inside the country, outside in the big world. I guess it is a situation of interregnum, so everybody maybe right even he doesn't know it yet. My friends from Belgrade and all over the world ask for my diary, daily, so they can cry: that is what most often they say... I just had a phone call, a friend telling me that an ecological catastrophe is on its way: no more salads, vegetables, fruits... Only tinned food and bottled water...What will happen to the market, the only vital place in the war? Many papers have been circulating on email, collected evidence of poisoning of air and water... A young friend of mine decided to have an abortion because she believed all that: she's been crying for days now... The alarm again, it is daytime: my daughter phones immediately, she is coming home. That is our deal: until the war is over we will stay together all the time...
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