the train that haunts me still

i remember the first time i took the train from lausanne to zurich. it was 1992 and i was returning home... i still get the chills when i take it alone at night. it's the beginning of a trip east, and it’s into darkness... i survived it (this time/again). the light at the end of the train tunnel was the idea of seeing a dear friend in austria, and he lives exactly half-way to home. but it was dark that night. the train climbs up the hill above the lake, slowly making its way through the vineyards that parallel the lake. and its so dark outside. i’m fifteen again, and not the positive fifteen that i had been recollecting earlier on this trip. this was a voyage that took my mind back to when there was a bus waiting for me by the zurich hauptbahnhof, a bus that would do its easy gaestarbeiter route through austria and part of germany, down through hungary and into the federal republic of yugoslavia. the war had already started, the students had their first protest. it was the beginning of a bad period that we in belgrade tend to forget when in belgrade, and one that should be written down so that we wouldn’t carry it around with us. it’s a heavy load. i was just awakening from the first wave of puberty, and the world around me was collapsing. i have fond memories of days of leisure in high school, but the fact is that it was a far cry from what i’d ever want my children to experience. i don’t know whether it made me stronger. for years i dreaded going abroad alone because on so many occasions during that time i traveled in fear that the situation might deteriorate overnight to such a low that i wouldn’t be able to come back. too many summer holiday bags included my school transcripts and elementary documents. this is something i could never criticize my parents for, but the fact remains that it did leave a big scar on me, one that i healed only many years later. if i wanted to blame it on someone i should probably blame it on the guy buried beneath the linden tree. but then he’s already been blamed for so many things – who cares about a couple of healed scars. but fifteen years on i still feel a shiver as the train moves through the night and the dark lake lays beneath...