“Two
Donauschwaben
Sisters”
or “How
we understand
each other”
by
Dragan
Gegenbauer,
Novi Sad, April
2011
Edited by Rose
Vetter,
published at
DVHH.org 12 Sep
2011
by Jody McKim
Pharr.
There is
a
saying
that describes
what kind
of
human beings we
are:
"Those who
are
not
hungry
cannot
believe that
others are
hungry."
In this respect,
this is
the story of
my
grandmother.
Maria Wolf was
born
in Ruma in 1911.
She married
my
grandfather
Wilhelm
Gegenbauer
and they
lived
in Petrovaradin
(Peterwardein).
In 1944 Maria’s
parents,
three
sisters
and
brother
fled from
Ruma, but
Maria
remained
in
Petrovaradin
with her husband
and their
four children.
However, the
whole family was
forced out of
their home and
interned in the
Petrovaradin
fortress.
Maria and the
children were
released after a
few months, but
her husband had
to stay and was
later moved to
another camp at
Pozarevac, which
he survived, but
with lasting
effects.
But despite the
difficult times
they had
endured,
my
grandparents
did not want
to leave their
home.
Many years
later…
In the years
1992-1993
there was
a terrible
crisis in
Serbia, the
former
Yugoslavia.
Inflation was
rampant and
people
were
literally
starving.
Shops
were
empty;
there were no
medicinal
drugs, no
electricity and
no
money.
These were the
conditions my
grandmother
Maria had
to struggle with.
Her younger
sister
Helen in
Germany
felt
that she
should
help.
She
sent
parcels to Maria
containing
slippers
and dust cloths,
sometimes
underwear.
Unfortunately
the customs fees
my grandmother
had to pay for
each
package
were higher than
the value of the
contents.
Often she
complained to
me, "I
really
love
my
sister
and
I am glad that
she’s thinking
of me in
difficult times,
but how can
I
explain
to her
that
this is not
necessary?
The packages are
not worth the
trouble of going
to the post
office.”
At
that time
Maria
was already
an old
woman,
and it
was difficult
for her to make
the trip to the
post office.
Although
Maria was
grateful
to her sister
for her efforts
and
willingness to
help,
she did not know
how to explain
to her that she
did not want her
to send any more
parcels.
Not wanting to
offend Helen,
she finally
assured her she
was doing well.
Many
years
earlier . .
.
It was in 1968.
For the first
time since
the end of
World War II,
Helen came to
Yugoslavia to
visit
Maria, who by
then was a widow
living
a modest
life on her
husband’s
pension in
Petrovaradin.
She
had
a
dog by
the name of
Benny, a mutt
not requiring
too much care,
in
the
avlijer* (yard).
Helen was
touched by
how
skinny Benny was
and
bought
wiener sausages
for him
every
day.
Helen
complimented
Maria for
keeping her
figure slim and
fit, to which
Maria wryly
nodded “yes”.
Little did Helen
realize that
Maria’s slim
figure was not
due to her
efforts to be
fashionable, but
rather because
of a lack of
money to buy
enough food.
In that sense,
both Maria and
Benny, the dog,
shared the same
fate, namely the
fact that they
were both hungry
and
malnourished.
Unfortunately Benny
ended up
at the vet, as
his
stomach
could not
digest
the
extra amount of
food.
And
Maria ended up
with a
headache, as
Helen,
in her
eagerness
to
"help”,
had pressured
her sister
to
go
to the
hairdresser
in order to
improve her
appearance.
Maria was
not used to the
combination of
wet hair,
chemicals and
sitting under
the hair dryer.
My grandmother
died in 1994 on
a cold October
day. Due
to power
shortages, the
streets in
Petrovaradin
were in total
darkness.
While returning
home, wearing a
black coat, she
crossed the road
and was struck
by a car whose
driver did not
see her.
Maria was never
able to explain
to Helen how she
felt.
Rather than
complain about
her hard life,
she accepted her
fate. And
Helen never
fully realized
the difficult
circumstances
her sister had
to struggle with
- that when you
are hungry, the
last thing you
need is a dust
cloth, a trip to
the hairdresser
or a wiener for
your dog.
But in her
unconditional
love for her
sister, Maria
understood and
forgave Helen
for failing to
appreciate the
hard life she
had to endure.
Helen
is
still
living
in Germany.
And
I still
use the
cleaning
cloths
she sent.
German quality.
*Avliya is a
Turkish word for
yard
