Ch7. Munich encounter

The encounter with the German police made us face reality- our adventure was coming to an end and we had to report to the authorities. I used to listen to Radio Free Europe broadcasting from Munich. Now I felt some link, like a distant friend I could trust and ask for help. Somebody could tell us what to do, where to go. If we were lucky we would meet the people behind the microphone.

Radio Free Europe was born during the Cold War. It was part of the propaganda war, between the East and West Blocks. RFE was clearly winning. Czech Radio was the mouthpiece of the Communist government, trying to give only the positive side and negative events were suppressed or twisted. It was not very effective, the listeners knew how to read between the lines. RFE appeared to be more balanced and because the broadcast was regularly jammed, it only added to their credibility. We assumed that we would be greeted with open arms. But first we were going to see Franta’s auntie….

Lost in Munich streets

Franta knew very little about his aunt, he remembered her only from when he was a small boy.  She was a German married to Frank’s uncle. After the war many Germans were expelled from Czechoslovakia and most went to West Germany. She used to send care packages to her Czech family, with items that were hard to get, like chewing gum or American cigarettes. That’s why she was always referred to as “Auntie”. After his Uncle died, Franta grew up and heard very little about her but he was convinced she would greet him like a lost son.

 We left our knapsacks in the railway station locker and went to search for his auntie, using an address that was perhaps fifteen years old. To our surprise we came to a small apartment building and on the door bell was her name. She was not home. A half a block away was a street car station and we watched people getting off. We saw a woman get off and walk to the building. When she took out her keys, Franta spoke to her and asked about fraulein Buk. In reply he was cross-examined. Finally the woman told him that his auntie was not home and she slammed the door. Well, we had time on hand and decided to wait. Every once in a while we could see a curtain in a window move and the woman peeking at us. 

Another hour went by, then suddenly the woman opened the door and cross-examined Franta again. Then she told him what we suspected, that she was his aunt. She invited us, grudgingly, to come in and then in the kitchen chatted with Franta about their relatives. In a little while her fifteen year old daughter came home from school. Now it was clear why auntie let us in. She didn’t want two strangers, two tramps accosting her daughter on the street.

We stayed for supper and when Franta told her we had no place to stay and that we would be leaving in the morning she graciously said we could sleep in the spare bedroom. We flipped a coin, Franta got the bed and I slept on the floor. Later we heard the lock move. She locked the door to our bedroom! We left early in the morning and Franta never mentioned his crazy auntie again.

Admiring BMW motorcycle. Maybe one day I will buy one. .

Our next stop was Radio Free Europe. We expected a better reception than we had been given by his auntie. In their broadcasts escapees from behind the Iron Curtain were greeted like heroes. Some hijacked planes, crashed the border barrier or flew over in a home made contraption. Luckily we did not belong to that category.

The RFE building looked like a fort. The security guard sitting behind a bullet proof window asked some questions in German and then let us in into the reception. CLANG! the door locked behind us. After what seemed to be ages a man came to us with a stack of papers. He introduced himself as being from the Czech section of the broadcast and wrote down our names and addresses.  “Could you fill out these questionnaires please? We will go out for lunch later” he told us and disappeared.   

 I looked at the questions:   “On the scale one to ten, rate how you like the following countries:” All Eastern block countries were listed, or “Which do you like better, Poland or Hungary?”, “Do you listen to RFE?  How often?” There were ten pages of what I considered simple and some stupid questions. Later our contact took us for lunch. We told him how we escaped and about our adventures. He became interested in our trip and our lunch stretched out to few hours. He had many questions about life in Czechoslovakia  and the attitude of people to the government and the Communist party. It wasn’t very often that he came into contact with people that had recently escaped. 

 Finally we started to discuss our next step. “You have to go to the refugee camp in Zindorf. You will stay there while your application for a refugee status is processed. It will take three to five months. When it is done, you have to leave the camp. There is a lot of work in Germany. You could even have a job lined up before you leave. If you want to immigrate you could then submit applications to countries like Canada, Australia or the USA.” Then he continued, “I have to warn you, Zindorf is a transitory camp for refugees, don’t be disappointed by the conditions inside.” He took us to the railway station and bought us tickets to Zindorf.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                          

Radio Free Europe disillusioned us. We didn’t anticipate a hero’s welcome but expected some sort of appreciation for what we had done. After all, we followed their broadcast propaganda. After a few beers our contact loosened up and talked freely. We could feel nostalgia, maybe homesickness for his lost country. Could it be that some of the broadcast talk about freedom and democracy was just glitz, glamour and bullshit?

Next chapter 8: The Refugee camp.

Looking for auntie.