TURNING POINT 23 JUL 1995 It was a beautiful warm summer night, that 23rd of July 1995. Close to midnight. The stars were bright and the Moon was hanging above our terrasse. Inside the apartment was a huge mess. Clothes, shoes, books, and open suitcases on the floor were everywhere. It was full of people. Our closest relatives and best friends were there. They were sitting and watching us in disbelief at how we are packing the last items in our suitcases. Only the closest people knew that we were immigrating to Australia. We were waiting three years for the visa. At that time male people were not allowed to leave the country due to the war. Luckily our city Subotica was only 10km from the Hungarian border. We did not need regular passports. Special border passes were enough. We were heading towards Budapest airport. Lots of people already left the country. We were a little bit too old, me 47, and my husband 45, for that kind of adventure. Even the Australian embassy did not encourage people over forty to do such a step. We sent the most precious things in advance. Seven heavy boxes comprised our professional books and dearest novels. I had tears in my eyes when more than half of them finished in the rubbish bin upon arrival. They were not relevant to the Australian professional world. One box contained my mum's memorabilia. The special was a big white porcelain bowl, which she inherited from her mum. I still have it. Today when I use it to make strudels I can see my Mum’s smiley face greeting me from the bottom of the bowl. Another thing I would not be able to leave is my great pressure cook. It was seven litters, with three separate compartments: for meat, vegetables, and soup. I used it every day. It was so much easier to think about the pressure cook than think about how we are going to settle down in that faraway land that we knew so little about. Those are my reapers to hold on to when I was down. We sold our apartment a month before our departure. We gave for free of charge furniture, a TV, a fridge, clothes, bicycles, books, chairs, and the rest of our belongings to those who were there to say goodbye. My best friend Mara was sitting there and watching. I heard her saying: “I did not know that you can get rid of things that you were collecting all your life so fast!” I was hardly aware of what she meant by that. I have been watching the clock not to miss the airplane. We were heading to Hungary to Budapest airport. We told people that we are going for dinner in Szegedin, the closest city in Hungary. We did that quite often since it was only 20km away. Only the closest one knew that it was a one-way ticket. We gave a last look at our apartment and left. A couple of cars with those most devoted followed us through to Budapest airport. When we crossed the Hungarian border, we stopped in Szegedin. We had to visit Frank's distant relatives who had the money from the sale of our apartment. How did our money end up there?
THE SALE OF OUR APARTMENT During that wartime, there were a lot of crimes around. When people sold their houses, they got calls inquiring about the sale. When sold, criminals came during the night, killed the whole family, and took the money. We sold our apartment three weeks before the departure. We calculated everything in German Marks. It was illegal but we did not have a choice. Inflation was around 1000% daily. The monthly salary which we got in the morning was enough for a loaf of bread in the evening. Every first day of the month, early in the morning we queued in the bank to take dinars and rushed on the street to find "tapcaros", people who had been selling German Marks for dinars. There were a lot of false banknotes around. When we sold our apartment, the lawyer came with the checking machine to be sure that the money was OK. We got a big pile of banknotes, most of them of small amounts. I was frightened that we will be targeted by criminals because of having that money in the house. I asked my husband to call his Hungarian relatives from Szegedin to come and take money to their place. We hardly knew those people but we were desperate. Our money has gone to foreign country and we stayed homeless and praying that the government will not close the borders. We could not put the money in the bank because they would confiscate it to support the war with the slim promise that they will return it after the war. There were many newly opened banks promising big interest rates. after collecting the money bank owners disappeared somewhere abroad. We thought that the safest way was to engage our Hungarian relatives. When we arrived at Szegedin we learn that they put our money in the bank earned little interest rate on it and got money in bigger banknotes easier to hide. It was such a good feeling that there are good people in this world. I placed money under the belt around my waist. Whenever someone touched me passing by I had an electrical shock. "Do not touch my money!" crossed my mind. In Budapest, our best friends Julika and Karcika were waiting for us to say goodbye. It was very emotional to leave so many dear people. Who knows when we will see them again? Australia looked so far, far away. At Budapest airport, we did not declare the money. They were not secure as well. There was the same situation as it was in our country.