Dienstag .23
A strange person, who has experienced too much for her years. The education in Austria seems to have improved. This girl, Ulina, had apparently a poor educations + is of a poor family, left school at 16, + worked 6 years in England. Has a strong grudge against the Jews, on whose account she left Austria; she reads the Stürmer from one end to the other daily and I wonder she doesn't become mad. She longs to return to England, where she had many posts good + bad, + where she received good pay. Unfortunately, under the present economical conditions it is not an easy thing for her.
(It is well known that many Austrians were previously employed in England, now they have been called back to Austria to live under the new Regime.)
She hates the Austrian food. I sympathise. Just now it is very bad. Clean + eatable, but so little fruit + everyone has the right to complain. She told me a most peculiar story (of which I remember little) concerning a family who employed her in Scotland. Apparently they were Spiritualists + behaved most peculiarly - especially on Monday + Tuesday when they dressed in special blue clothes + had the sitting room also furnished in blue + hung the blue curtains. The husband had particularly impressed her by wearing a garment similar to that worn on certain occasions by Jews.
She was indeed convinced that he was a Jew. I wonder. Her mind seems to be quite corrupted from her misfortune in having to leave England + from hatred of the Jews. The conversation took place in the kitchen + lasted until half 10. By this time I thought of my washing and letters which I had not attended to + as we were already on good terms I was allowed to wash in the kitchen + hang my things up in the bathroom.
Tuesday, October 25, 2005
Wednesday, October 19, 2005
Not Severed
The first day - Sunday; most of the children, on account of it being Muttertag, had gone home. I went into the Bury Kappelle (church) and peace was restored to my soul. Peace surfed, wafted and settled within me. I came back, along the wet, shining streets a new person. In the afternoon Dela telephoned + I knew our friendship was not severed.
Life here is well ordered. Breakfast, 7. Mittagessen 2:30. Abendessen 7.
Yesterday I betook myself off at 8 in the morning in the rain to explore the new district, it is near the Kai, the oldest part of town, with many narrow alleys + steps twisting round corners between the houses from one level to a higher one. There I found a quaint wee cjircj lmpwm as Ruprechbehurch - the oldest in Wier, older even than the Stephausdom, a nearby onlooker informed me. I bought a repecimemtel (edit - sp?) + a real leather tasche + came joyful home at 11:30 + settled down in the charmingly though simply furnished waiting room.
After dinner, I went up to the Klub, but not meeting anyone in particular, went straight to the Kus. As usual I was too early, but it didn't matter as I was able to learn a poem - the Konig in Thule from Goette which was set as homework.
Life here is well ordered. Breakfast, 7. Mittagessen 2:30. Abendessen 7.
Yesterday I betook myself off at 8 in the morning in the rain to explore the new district, it is near the Kai, the oldest part of town, with many narrow alleys + steps twisting round corners between the houses from one level to a higher one. There I found a quaint wee cjircj lmpwm as Ruprechbehurch - the oldest in Wier, older even than the Stephausdom, a nearby onlooker informed me. I bought a repecimemtel (edit - sp?) + a real leather tasche + came joyful home at 11:30 + settled down in the charmingly though simply furnished waiting room.
After dinner, I went up to the Klub, but not meeting anyone in particular, went straight to the Kus. As usual I was too early, but it didn't matter as I was able to learn a poem - the Konig in Thule from Goette which was set as homework.
Sunday, October 16, 2005
Mus
Mus is a home for school children. There are fifteen children here of all ages up to 17. They attend various schools, Volksschule, Mittelschule, Hochschule and Handelschule. There is also a Danish girl here. The children are watched over by an Erzieherin, an excellent person. I sleep in a room with 2 German girls who attend Handelschule. As yet, we don't know each other very well, as they are always in bed before I am & in the morning they have lessons and must leave early.
I am very contented with everything, only one thing disturbs me, that is, I must always go through the children's room at night to get to my bed; the door has an unpleasant habit of sticking. One pushes + heaves + it bursts open with a shattering bang + wakes up the whole house. Then I must grope about in the dark and there is sure to be something in the way to fall over. Lastly, concerns my bedroom slippers; unfortunately they also have an unpleasant habit of getting at the back of my cupboard where I don't easily find them + must go sometimes barefooted on the cold stone floor of the bathrooms. The result is one side of me is cold + the other warm in bed.
I am very contented with everything, only one thing disturbs me, that is, I must always go through the children's room at night to get to my bed; the door has an unpleasant habit of sticking. One pushes + heaves + it bursts open with a shattering bang + wakes up the whole house. Then I must grope about in the dark and there is sure to be something in the way to fall over. Lastly, concerns my bedroom slippers; unfortunately they also have an unpleasant habit of getting at the back of my cupboard where I don't easily find them + must go sometimes barefooted on the cold stone floor of the bathrooms. The result is one side of me is cold + the other warm in bed.
"Freedom, Freedom is the best of life"
On Saturday afternoon I arrived in a taxi at the Schulerheim with my 2 suitcases, one rather dilapidated, the other less so. It was a fearless farewell, and I am glad, glad, the affair is over, and I know now it was right to come here; after much doubt it was right, and I am happy + god be thanked I still have my friends in the HorianigaBe. But freedom, freedom, is the best of life. I love this life of freedom (My English is somewhat corrupt owing to the influence of the German language), but I live, I live.
Was mene Leben (May 20th 1939)
On Saturday the 20th of May, das mene Leben (edit: sp?) began. I call it the new life for so it was for me after several weeks of inner disturbance and restlessness of soul. My surroundings were changed from the life in a German family to that of a German Schulerheim. How this happened? It was entirely my doing - after sleepless nights and many unhappy hours, I made the decision. But that was a sad story and better to be forgotten. Now everything is peace again and life flows, bringing with it many new interests.
On Friday I spent the loneliest day + I think that the unhappiest of my life alone at home, in the HorianigaBe at home, though no longer at home. There was little left for me to eat, and I longed for some fruit and searched up, down to find a fruit shop. Nothing, nothing at all but figs + dates + O joy, lemons. I bought some, and with the addition of sugar, made me a fruit salad. This made a good meal with a first course of bread and cheese!
In the morning, I had dealt with the police and the post office etc - i.e. I had announced my intention to change my address. I bought flowers and decorated the rooms. In the afternoon I packed, and then waited the return of the family. I could not work. It was hot and I was restless for the next day.
On Friday I spent the loneliest day + I think that the unhappiest of my life alone at home, in the HorianigaBe at home, though no longer at home. There was little left for me to eat, and I longed for some fruit and searched up, down to find a fruit shop. Nothing, nothing at all but figs + dates + O joy, lemons. I bought some, and with the addition of sugar, made me a fruit salad. This made a good meal with a first course of bread and cheese!
In the morning, I had dealt with the police and the post office etc - i.e. I had announced my intention to change my address. I bought flowers and decorated the rooms. In the afternoon I packed, and then waited the return of the family. I could not work. It was hot and I was restless for the next day.
Feb 4th 1939
Sleep late. Eat breakfast, write and generally settle in. After lunch am taken by Dr. Schimak to see a bit of Wien.
The University, Ice Rink.
Professor Trojan's evening - Faschingszug (edit: "Carnival course"?) - picture.
(edit - my grandmother made a note at the foot of this part, saying "The diary seems to peter out somewhat at this point - I will have to resort to memorising and hope for the best." There are no other pages from this part of her visit, and she did not add to the typed page from this point on. What will follow are diary entries that never made it to her second draft.)
- i. A wide-spread out city, wide streets and large well built houses
- ii. Poverty and primitiveness still in existence.
- iii. Beggars.
- iv. Not the smart, gay Wien of old.
- v. Very few people about.
The University, Ice Rink.
Professor Trojan's evening - Faschingszug (edit: "Carnival course"?) - picture.
(edit - my grandmother made a note at the foot of this part, saying "The diary seems to peter out somewhat at this point - I will have to resort to memorising and hope for the best." There are no other pages from this part of her visit, and she did not add to the typed page from this point on. What will follow are diary entries that never made it to her second draft.)
Frozen on the Train
I woke up later to find myself very cold, and everyone else feeling the same - frost quite thick on the windows. I discarded my coat as a pillow and used it as a blanket instead and managed to sleep a bit longer.
Very soon, it seemed it was getting light. To my surprise, there was very thick ice on the inside of the windows. I have never been so icy cold before, but it was the same for all. Everyone shivered and looked blue. There was no heating whatsoever - at least it was quite ineffective. About seven, we stopped at Nuremberg. It was a pity that the view was blocked. For the next few hours everyone was occupied scraping and "hurring" on the glass to melt the ice and make themselves a peep-hole.
I went to the "wash room" to clean up the traces of travel. Not a drop of water was to be had. Everything was frozen; even the floor had a thick covering of ice and at each lurch of the train, you were shot violently backwards and forwards.
I ate a roll or two, secured some coffee, donned both coats, gloves and felt better. When the heat was actually put on, it really was stifling. The ice on the windows melted and streamed down as water, making the pane very smeary but easier to see through. During the morning we passed through snow covered country. At Passau - formerly on the Austrian frontier, difference in appearance of the houses - low roofs, very bright and gay looking above the snow.
After Linz the snow thinned out. Broad flat valley - somewhat barren - farmed - wooded hills. At first I was disappointed in the approach. Getting nearer Wien (edit: this is the German name for Vienna) however, things improved - more hilly, trees and generally picturesque countryside.
You may imagine what a relief it was to step out onto the platform into beautiful fresh air after 29 hours of travel. And very good to get to a nice house and have a good wash.
Very soon, it seemed it was getting light. To my surprise, there was very thick ice on the inside of the windows. I have never been so icy cold before, but it was the same for all. Everyone shivered and looked blue. There was no heating whatsoever - at least it was quite ineffective. About seven, we stopped at Nuremberg. It was a pity that the view was blocked. For the next few hours everyone was occupied scraping and "hurring" on the glass to melt the ice and make themselves a peep-hole.
I went to the "wash room" to clean up the traces of travel. Not a drop of water was to be had. Everything was frozen; even the floor had a thick covering of ice and at each lurch of the train, you were shot violently backwards and forwards.
I ate a roll or two, secured some coffee, donned both coats, gloves and felt better. When the heat was actually put on, it really was stifling. The ice on the windows melted and streamed down as water, making the pane very smeary but easier to see through. During the morning we passed through snow covered country. At Passau - formerly on the Austrian frontier, difference in appearance of the houses - low roofs, very bright and gay looking above the snow.
After Linz the snow thinned out. Broad flat valley - somewhat barren - farmed - wooded hills. At first I was disappointed in the approach. Getting nearer Wien (edit: this is the German name for Vienna) however, things improved - more hilly, trees and generally picturesque countryside.
You may imagine what a relief it was to step out onto the platform into beautiful fresh air after 29 hours of travel. And very good to get to a nice house and have a good wash.
Saturday, October 15, 2005
Shipping and Training
In the middle of the afternoon we came to a patch where much shipping seemed to be in action. 11 were blasting their fog horns to the greatest capacity. Soon the cause became apparent - a wreck, the funnels still above water. It appeared to be a passenger steamer, and we hoped all had been rescued.
Now and again land loomed into view, houses clustering together under the white-ish cliffs - windmills...
We were once more on land at 16:45. The customs were rapidly dealt with and soon we were on the train once more. A long wait - representative of Dutch casuality - then off we go. The train was certainly very well heated, and there was no need to freeze. Indeed, we took off our coats and opened the windows wide.
Before nine (Dutch time) we arrived at the frontier. The two English ladies had to suffer a thorough examination; particularly with regard to money. They had a good hunt in our suitcases too, but found nothing - not that there was anything for them to find. About 11:30pm, we reached Koln, where I had to wish my friend Goodbye. I seated myself once more and enjoyed the cool night air which came in and the familiar view of the Hotel Viktoria advertising "Dortmund Bier".
(I am not a great drinker as a rule, but Deutches Bier can be very refreshing after a long hot walk.)
Once more we were on our way. By now, it was too dark to see much of the outside world. I ate my supper. A Hungarian woman, and also a German, had come in at Koln, their windows were promptly shut as tight as possible. I made a pillow out of my spare coat and stretched out on the seat which I was lucky to have all to myself. I should not like to recommend such a bed for anyone without padding. All the same, I slept quite comfortable.
Now and again land loomed into view, houses clustering together under the white-ish cliffs - windmills...
We were once more on land at 16:45. The customs were rapidly dealt with and soon we were on the train once more. A long wait - representative of Dutch casuality - then off we go. The train was certainly very well heated, and there was no need to freeze. Indeed, we took off our coats and opened the windows wide.
Before nine (Dutch time) we arrived at the frontier. The two English ladies had to suffer a thorough examination; particularly with regard to money. They had a good hunt in our suitcases too, but found nothing - not that there was anything for them to find. About 11:30pm, we reached Koln, where I had to wish my friend Goodbye. I seated myself once more and enjoyed the cool night air which came in and the familiar view of the Hotel Viktoria advertising "Dortmund Bier".
(I am not a great drinker as a rule, but Deutches Bier can be very refreshing after a long hot walk.)
Once more we were on our way. By now, it was too dark to see much of the outside world. I ate my supper. A Hungarian woman, and also a German, had come in at Koln, their windows were promptly shut as tight as possible. I made a pillow out of my spare coat and stretched out on the seat which I was lucky to have all to myself. I should not like to recommend such a bed for anyone without padding. All the same, I slept quite comfortable.
Harwich
We arrived in Harwich in very good time. It was a strangely deserted scene, obviously one expectant of few travellers. At first there appeared to be no porters about, so we loaded our gear out ourselves; after some minutes however, one appeared in the distance, vaguely floating towards us. A very amiable chap who said he would convey our goods to the boat in due course.
We had yet some time to spare, there appeared to be no one about. We did not, at first, have to show our passports. On the quay were piles of imported goods, timber, young evergreens and so on. The only sign of life appeared to be a small brown man with a wrinkled face, and a snub nose plumped in the middle of it, who was busily doing the last bit of polishing on board (rather late in the day we thought, but - Dutch casuality).
We walked up and down and sat in the sun; it was really a beautiful day, with bright sunshine in a blue sky. At last a few signs of life; we went to the enquiry office, it was shut, but there was someone inside anyhow, so we asked about trains from Wissingen (Flushing) to be sure that we knew where to change. The man was Dutch but spoke English. He came out onto the platform and sat down on the seat with us, and produced a timetable, long out of date. It was not much help, so we asked him what he did with himself and had quite an interesting conversation, until someone else came and told us we could show our passports.
That over, we went on deck to watch things. The whole place had suddenly sprung to life; there were porters everywhere, goods were being loaded and unloaded. A few straggling passengers appeared, just off a London train. There were indeed only a few passengers altogether. Black smoke was pouring from the funnels, ropes being loosened, a slight movement, and a good pull and swing round, and we were off - actually moving at last.
We had a wonderful crossing; sunny, calm and comparitively warm for February. Land gradually faded out of sight, till all was sea and sky. We settled down to read.
We had yet some time to spare, there appeared to be no one about. We did not, at first, have to show our passports. On the quay were piles of imported goods, timber, young evergreens and so on. The only sign of life appeared to be a small brown man with a wrinkled face, and a snub nose plumped in the middle of it, who was busily doing the last bit of polishing on board (rather late in the day we thought, but - Dutch casuality).
We walked up and down and sat in the sun; it was really a beautiful day, with bright sunshine in a blue sky. At last a few signs of life; we went to the enquiry office, it was shut, but there was someone inside anyhow, so we asked about trains from Wissingen (Flushing) to be sure that we knew where to change. The man was Dutch but spoke English. He came out onto the platform and sat down on the seat with us, and produced a timetable, long out of date. It was not much help, so we asked him what he did with himself and had quite an interesting conversation, until someone else came and told us we could show our passports.
That over, we went on deck to watch things. The whole place had suddenly sprung to life; there were porters everywhere, goods were being loaded and unloaded. A few straggling passengers appeared, just off a London train. There were indeed only a few passengers altogether. Black smoke was pouring from the funnels, ropes being loosened, a slight movement, and a good pull and swing round, and we were off - actually moving at last.
We had a wonderful crossing; sunny, calm and comparitively warm for February. Land gradually faded out of sight, till all was sea and sky. We settled down to read.
The Beginning
It was a great event when, on the 7th of Feb 1939, I left home to stay with some friends in Vienna, where I was to learn the language and, mainly to satisfy my own curiosity, to study the people and their manner of living.
I arrived in the middle of their afternoon, and my friends were there to meet me. At first it was quite bewildering standing on the simple countrified platform of this great city, and drinking in the fresh smokeless air, for it is no pleasure to sit eighteen hours on a hard wooden seat with all ventilation shut off.
On the whole, it was a very comfortable and interesting journey; especially as I, unexpectantly, was accompanied by a friend of mine. She was going to Switzerland for three weeks skiing, so that we travelled together as far as Koln, where she was to change into another train for Bale.
(Incidentally, I heard later she had the misfortune to fall the first day on the ice and break her elbow, which put a sad end to a lovely holiday.)
I arrived in the middle of their afternoon, and my friends were there to meet me. At first it was quite bewildering standing on the simple countrified platform of this great city, and drinking in the fresh smokeless air, for it is no pleasure to sit eighteen hours on a hard wooden seat with all ventilation shut off.
On the whole, it was a very comfortable and interesting journey; especially as I, unexpectantly, was accompanied by a friend of mine. She was going to Switzerland for three weeks skiing, so that we travelled together as far as Koln, where she was to change into another train for Bale.
(Incidentally, I heard later she had the misfortune to fall the first day on the ice and break her elbow, which put a sad end to a lovely holiday.)
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