How we survived communism and even laughed by Drakulic Slavenka 1949-

Author:Drakulic, Slavenka, 1949-
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Women Social conditions, Drakulić, Slavenka, 1949-, Authors, Yugoslav -- Biography, Communism -- Europe, Eastern, Communism, Yugoslav, Vrouwen, Politics and government, Eastern Europe, Europe, Eastern -- Politics and government -- 1945-, Drakulic
ISBN: 0393030768
Publisher: London : Hutchinson
Published: 1992-12-15T00:00:00+00:00

10

Our Little Stasi

According to a statement by an ex-KGB general, Oleg Kalugin, it is permitted Jor everyone to be wiretapped, except the nomenklatura. But people knew that even before he did.

- Argumenty i fakty (1990)

I t is three minutes to 10:30 in the morning as I wait almost at the head of a long line in our tiny neighborhood post office. I am wondering if I will make it in time, or if I’ll have to wait for the coffee break to be over. Behind the glass window the cashier accepts a telephone bill payment from a lady in a coquettish red hat who is in front of me. Then the cashier, who is a bleached blonde, gets up, puts up the sign, pause, turns her back on the crowd, and starts making coffee on a small stove in the back. Too late — now about a dozen of us will have to wait a good half hour. ‘Why does it always happen to me that the post office cashier shuts up in front of my nose?’ comes a woman’s voice down the line. But the others won’t let her be the only victim. ‘It happens to me, too, but I don’t complain. After all, most of us are waiting here during our working hours, aren’t we?’ says a dry old man standing behind me. She shrugs. So what, isn’t time still the cheapest thing in these parts of the world? Meanwhile, the lady in

the red hat is counting her receipts. I can see that her telephone bill is 237 dinars. A smell of freshly boiled coffee fills the small space. A man’s voice in the only telephone booth is shouting: ‘No, no, Mother, I can t visit you this weekend!’

All this makes us feel somehow at home, as if the post office were a living room, and we had known each other for quite some time. Behind me, people are sighing. I don t only hear it, I can feel it on my neck because a fat man behind me keeps snorting. Even though I don t glance at it,

I can see his hand with a money order for 450 dinars for his rent. Although I can’t imagine what could interest me less at this moment, I almost automatically make a quick calculation: it has to be at least a two-room apartment, in a new building, because rents are cheaper in the old ones. Then I stop, ashamed of myself. The only reason I don t feel like a spy is that he too can ‘spy’ on me: he can see that I’m paying a 350-dinar installment for some books, and that my telephone bill is enormous, 1300 dinars. Perhaps right now he’s wondering how I can afford such a huge bill, when my profession obviously has something to do with books, and we all very well know one can’t live on any kind of intellectual work. In fact he really can learn a lot about my own and

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.