As we set foot in the house, we crossed a vast courtyard entirely paved with ancient walls built with old white stones and various shades of grey tiles before entering a spacious living room.
At the heart of the room stood a big stone fireplace, with its ambient, yellowish flames, creating a captivating atmosphere of warmth and quietness over the room.
Each corner told a story in the ancient cottage, as the faded colours of the walls and furniture reflected the long history of my dad’s family from more than fifty years ago.
I quickly took off my warm jacket as I sat in the living room. I felt comfortable and cosy, but I still felt exhausted.
My little cousin’s three children came in one by one to welcome us. In a daze, the room was filled with rocking laughter.
It was already five o’clock in the evening.
I had spent my few evening hours playing crosswords with my cousins’ children and then feeding the cattle, and racing over the fresh, wet grass, over the fruit trees, as the sun rays began to disappear behind the endless, gloomy horizon.
I was sitting on my bamboo chair next to my cousin, Hannah, while my father was seated at the head of the table. To his right and left were my aunt and mother.
“I don’t like cauliflower broth,” I whispered to my mother as my aunt poured the hot bouillon into our large white plates.
“Hush,” my mum murmured firmly as she leaned towards me. “I asked you not to complain. I already explained to you how the situation is here. “
As we began eating, a strange silence hung over the kitchen, interrupted from time to time by the sounds of our spoons clanking against the bottom of the ceramic dishes.
Then, my aunt turned to my father and said as she caressed his hair, “My little brother, white hairs have invaded your head.”
“I know,” my dad replied with a faded smile on his face. “It has been a long time since I left in 1964, hasn’t it, Freya?”
“Yes, unfortunately,” my aunt sighed. “Since 1961, everything has changed. This wall of shame has turned our entire lives upside down. Every step we take, every single decision we make, has become dependent on these miserable borders. It’s as if they have become our whole life.”
“Instead, we have become a part of them,” my father declared. “Everyone can see that we are the ones who pay the price of the major powers’ conflict. They solve their quarrels on our land.”
“Isn’t this the Cold War, dad? The war between the USA and the Soviet Union?” I wondered as I hardly chewed the remains of a tough brown flour bread that my aunt had prepared for dinner.
“It is,” my mother responded. “What an irony! This is a war in which we have nothing to do with it.”
“A Cold War,” my father replied as he furrowed his brow. “I don’t know why we call it a Cold War. Rather, it is a burning hell that will swallow everything on its way, green and dry, in Germany, Korea, and many other countries.”
“Dad, I always wonder why these great powers don’t resolve their conflicts among themselves. Why do they interfere in the affairs of others?” I asked curiously.
“It is because they own everything, my dear, especially the nuclear weapons while we have lost our reign because of the Second World War,” replied my cousin, waving her palm indifferently, before she added, “Who cares? People always know that the United States and the Soviet Union are the only two superpowers. The whole world gets used to this. It is unfair, yes, but we can do nothing. We should accept this situation.”
“Maybe we shouldn’t,” I replied quietly, as my father gave me a strange, serious gaze before exclaiming. “Listen to who’s speaking! I can’t believe it. You, Hannah, the wife of one of the popular activists in East Germany, the girl who wrote me letter after letter to remind me about the harsh conditions in this part of our land. How did you become like this?”
“Maybe it’s because I’m getting old, uncle. I have four mouths to feed now.” She let out a long, deep sigh as she continued talking. “I’m tired of all this, uncle. I’m tired of the nightly police raids, turning the house upside down, and terrorising my little kids. I’m tired of dreaming of a unified Germany. Perhaps if we had run away with you to West Berlin, our lives would have changed for the better.”
“How could we run away, Hannah?” interrupted my aunt nervously. “How many times have I told you your uncle had risked his life to escape this hell? How could a woman escape with a little girl of ten, huh? Did you forget how many people had been shot while trying to climb the wall or break the borders?”
Once more, a profound long silence cast a shadow over the table as an air of discomfort permeated the place.
Suddenly, my aunt swivelled her head toward me and said with concern, “My little dear, you haven’t eaten anything. How about a cup of hot chocolate or coffee with yummy potato pancakes filled with applesauce? I’m sure you would like it, wouldn’t you, sweetheart?”
“That sounds like a delightful idea, Auntie. I’ll go ahead of you to the living room and wait for that,” I yelled as I dashed towards the small living room.
In a few seconds, I lay down comfortably on the maroon leather sofa, placed a soft fleece cushion behind my back, and turned on the TV. “Whew!” I let out a long sigh. “At least I got rid of the cauliflower broth.”
