White Niggers
Chapter 62
Semmering area, Lower Austria
Friday, September 27th, 2019, 10:00
Lisa is sitting in a convertible. Buba is in the driver's seat.
This car is a bigger version of the one Timur drove back in August, Lisa thinks. Coincidence? I hope so. Hopefully they won't try to compete with each other for me.
They drive on a highway that is surrounded by mountains. Contrary to Kahlenberg, which is a mountain in name only and more like hills, these are real mountains, with chasms, caves, and an overall majestic look.
They do not talk much. Lisa is impressed by the scenery, and Buba does not want to disturb that process through smalltalk. She is so immersed into the landscape that she almost does not fumble around with her fidget spinner.
Lisa sees the ruins of a medieval castle at a distance. It sits on top of a mountain, and is surrounded by steep slopes on all sides. The chapel is clearly visible, as well as ruins of two towers, rectangular buildings and walls. There are trees and shrubs growing among the stone walls.
Before aviation and artillery, this place was probably a nightmare to conquer, Lisa thinks. That's what a good person is. They stand tall, impervious to any attempts of the outside world to corrupt them.
Thirty minutes later, their car drives in front of the Hotel Panhans. It's a six-story building from the late 19th century. It is located on the side of a mountain, and Lisa enjoys the view of the snow-covered trees framing the road, as they drive up towards the main entrance.
"I think Hitler used to go on vacation here," Buba says, and points at a large, semicircular balcony. "There are photos of him sitting there."
They get out of the car and stand for a few moments near the entrance. There is a panoramic view of the valley and the nearby Sonnwendstein mountain. They leave their bags at the reception, and go for a walk until the room is ready.
To their right is a small Neo-Gothic church with a steep roof and a tall, pointed bell tower. Its walls are light-colored stone. The windows have pointed arches. It stands on a hill, surrounded by trees and mountains.
The green roof and the belltower make it look like a building from a fairy tale. Hopefully one of the tales with a good ending, Lisa thinks. A mix between castle and church, a place of refuge for a poet.
They walk across the path. From the left, they get what the Austrians call a "20-shilling view", because engravings of this view were printed on old banknotes.
In the background is the huge Rax mountain range. In the foreground rise the jagged edges of the Pollereswand. The surface is rough. It stands out against the surrounding landscape of forest and grass. Large boulders are scattered at the base. To each side of the base there is a viaduct.
A train drives from the right viaduct into the tunnel at the base, then comes out on the other side again.
"Must be nice to be in such a train," Lisa says. "You probably could get a really good look at the landscape."
Buba nods.
They walk further into the woods. Soon, the asphalted road ends, and they continue to walk down a gravel road.
It's always the same – trees on one side, mountain view on the other, and the smell of pine everywhere. But it doesn't get boring because it's such a contrast to the hectic nature of Vienna.
"Thank you for this excursion," Lisa says. "I like the way the air smells here. An interesting mix of pine trees, grass and what have you."
"You describe the smell of an old Soviet eau-de-cologne," Buba says.
They walk down the trail in silence. It doesn't feel awkward, because at the altitude of 3280 feet the air is thinner, so one needs to breathe more frequently. But the air is crisp and fresh, and one anticipates excellent sleep because of the exercise.
Plus there's the smell. It's not just pine and fir. It's also the absence of exhaust fumes. Plus grass and mushrooms.
You forget death, Lisa thinks. Part of this bouquet are decomposing corpses of animals, insects, and plants. Take one step away from the trail and you will be stepping in their remains.
When you enjoy that scenery so much, you are wallowing in the past, Lisa thinks. Not just you, folks at the diplomatic academy, too. Even Dr. Zemanek and the mighty lionness. They all dwell on the past, glorious and otherwise.
Austria has a huge past and a future relatively few people think about, List thinks. Just like Ukraine. And I don't mean the average Austrians and Ukrainians, those mythical creatures with one testicle and one boob each.
I also mean you, with your old Soviet culture, Lisa thinks. Why not embrace the modern one? What does that old Soviet culture have that the modern one doesn't? Or is it the cradle of civilization, and you refuse to get out of it because you don't want to grow up?
They walk past a big rock. There are cracks all over it. In some of them, grass and flowers grow.
The post-Soviet space is like this rock, Lisa thinks. It used to be a coherent whole, but time split it into smaller rocks like Russia, Ukraine, and the others.
Not an abstract force like time, though, but concrete political forces, Lisa thinks. Everybody – you, Buba, Timur, Zoe, the folks from Capital City Lights (with the exception of the Austrian husbands) are living in the cracks of what used to be the USSR.
That is, they don't live: they are trying to survive, Lisa thinks. Some try to become flowers there. Like you, with your 'true Christianity' and reparations for Ukraine.
And others try to split the rock even further, Lisa thinks. So they can become dictators of their little rocklet.
I wonder whether Buba plants flowers, Lisa thinks. Given what he did a week ago.
It is one week closer now, Lisa thinks.
She fidgets with the spinner.
I never felt like I had ADHD or any other mental illness, until I met Buba, Lisa thinks. Inviting my mother here was insane. I've become the blacksmith of my own shackles.
Lisa sees an Edelweiss flower. It has small, white, star-shaped blooms covered in fine hairs, which give it a woolly appearance. This flower is an emblem of Austria. There are poems and folk songs about it.
If you look at it closely, it doesn't seem particularly pretty, Lisa thinks. Edelweiss's strength is not beauty, but purity and resilience. Just like you.
Back then, seven years ago, you stood your ground, Lisa thinks. You won. Now you are smarter, stronger, and older.
Time is on your side, Lisa thinks. You being older makes you stronger and her weaker. Also, she does not have any allies in this country. You do. You can defend yourself better now than before.
If push comes to shove – my apartment, my rules, Lisa thinks. With a little assertiveness, I can put her on a plane back home.
There is hope she won't like it here, Lisa thinks. She will be spending all days alone while I'm studying. On some level, deep inside, very, very deep, she is a human being like me, and will feel as lonely as everybody here. It is reasonable to assume she will want to go back after a few weeks, when the honeymoon phase is over.
And if the reason fails, let's just hope, Lisa thinks. There is always hope, because hope dies last.
After it has killed everybody else.