Twenty-five years ago, the Iron Curtain was torn down.

Ten years ago, eight post-communist states joined the

EU. But what do we really know about our neighbours

beyond the border?

2

PREFACE

The Iron Curtain has been history for 25

years now. This is a good thing because

without it, young Europeans have been

able to grow up without travel restrictions,

ideological warfare or the fear of nuclear

war. However, this also means that the

events of 1989 are receding farther into

the past. The historical significance of the

Fall of the Berlin Wall and the Perestroika

movement suddenly seem to no longer be

pertinent. For many young people, a divided

Europe is simply unimaginable.

Cafébabel, the first online magazine for the

Euro generation, didn’t want to celebrate

the 25th anniversary of 1989 with boring dates and blurry black and white photographs. That’s

why in March of 2014 we developed the reportage project BEYOND THE CURTAIN. Young

journalists from Germany, Poland, Austria, Hungary, the Czech Republic and Slovakia set

out in search for personal stories from both before and after the Fall of the Iron Curtain. Their

reportages, which were published through Cafébabel, reveal a unified yet contradictory Europe:

young Austrians, Slovaks and Hungarians dance together to the sounds of electronic music

at the Waves Festival; German youths rediscover the Fall of the Wall and outspokenly warn

against the new walls that are emerging on the eastern borders of the EU; young Czechs and

Hungarians emigrate to Austria to seek work or an education. By contrast, comparatively few

Western Europeans choose to spend their Erasmus year in the “East”.

An iron curtain between East and West certainly no longer exists, but although the Soviet

Union fell 25 years go, there still remains a divide between western European and post-

communist states. Overcoming this divide, which really only exists in our minds, is the goal

behind BEYOND THE CURTAIN. Our authors, photographers and documentary filmmakers

travelled in binational teams to the former borders to cast the relationship between East and

West in a new light. With these reportages, we strive to foster a Europe that comes together

not only on paper, but also in the minds of the people.

LILIAN PITHAN, Editor-in-chief of Cafébabel Berlin

EUROPEUNCURTAINED

3

PREFACE

One hundred years since World War I, and 25

years since the Fall of the Berlin Wall: the year

2014 stood as a year of a remembrance.

Politicians recalled historical events,

eyewitnesses spoke up, and members of

society discussed the significance that history

holds for our current times.

Although they never personally witnessed the

Fall of the Wall in 1989, many young people

are showing an interest in the turmoil of the years 1989/1990, especially when the topic is

adequately addressed. Cafébabel have taken upon themselves the task of recounting the

historical events in Europe, thereby establishing relevance for the present.

Last year, the German Federal Agency for Civic Education (Bundeszentrale für politische

Bildung/bpb) honoured Cafébabel with an award through the competition “25 Jahre

Mauerfall: Geschichte erinnern – Gegenwart gestalten” for their reportage project BEYOND

THE CURTAIN. Through this accolade, 25 people, organisations and projects focussing on

historical-political education were honoured – all of which performed, through exceptional

strategies, a great service to society in their portrayals of 1989.

The present e-magazine displays the current reality in the countries surrounding the former

Iron Curtain, 25 years after its fall. It is a vibrant, international reality, in which borders hardly

seem to play a role. Young people are open towards the people and cultures on either side of

the former Iron Curtain. And it is exactly this attitude that Europe presently needs.

THOMAS KRÜGER, President of the German Federal Agency for Civic Education

A NEW VIEWOF HISTORY

GERMANY

POLAND

CZECH REP.

AUSTRIA HUNGARY

SLOVAKIA

VIENNA

PG. 8 - 9

BRATISLAVA

PG. 6 - 7

BUDAPEST

PG. 12 - 13

GÖRLITZ

PG. 10 - 11

SŁUBICE

PG. 14 - 15

4

MAP OF EASTERN EUROPE & THE IRON CURTAIN

PARTY WITHOUTBORDERSMartin Maska

Tomáš Mrva

BORDER HOPPINGTO VIENNALinda Tóthová

David Tiefenthaler

PREFACE

GÖRLITZ, COMEFROM THE DEADEmilia Wanat

Christina Heuschen

MELTING POT INBUDAPESTEva Proske

Ráhel Németh

A SILENTFAREWELL TOTHE POLISHMARKETAleksandra Łuczak

Johanna Meyer-Gohde

EDITOR-IN-CHIEF

Lilian Pithan

EDITORS & TRANSLATORS

Daniel Stächelin (English) | Christina Heuschen (German) | Róża Rozmus (Polish)

ART DIRECTOR

Jee Hei Park

LOGO

Adrien Le Coärer

PUBLISHER

Babel Deutschland e.V., Liebenwalder Str. 34a, 13347 Berlin

berlin@cafebabel.com | www.cafebabel.de/berlin

Copyright © 2015.

The rights for individual contributions are maintained by Babel Deutschland e.V.

and the individual authors. Rights to photos and illustrations are as indicated.

5

TABLE OF CONTENTS & IMPRINT

6 - 7

8 - 9

2 - 3

10 - 11

12 - 13

14 - 15

We go underground, literally. Although a statue of a sitting Buddha overlooks the bar, the

atmosphere is anything but ascetic. Almost everyone is holding a cocktail or beer, the loud

music leaving no room for meditation. But it’s not so noisy that we fail to notice partygoers

speaking English and Spanish, in addition to Slovak. Cheap flights and drinks have turned

the capital of Slovakia into “Partyslava”. For several years, it has primarily been a popular

destination for British tourists going to stag and hen parties. But a couple of years ago, we

heard for the first time that an increasing number of young people from Vienna go clubbing in

Bratislava.

We meet Richard and Bernadette, two young Austrians from Hainburg—a small town right

on the border of Slovakia—who have considerable cross-border clubbing experience.

Richard, who now works in a theatre in Vienna, has been to bars in Bratislava several times.

He first went there when he was 17 years old. “I was pretty bored because all bars were the

same in Hainburg. That’s why we crossed the border”, he tells us. “There are many young

people in Bratislava who are open-minded and cosmopolitan. We simply went there without

any knowledge of the bars.”.

For people from Hainburg, getting to Bratislava is really easy. Taking bus number 901 of

the Bratislava public transportation system, the journey takes only 22 minutes, and if you’re

TEXTMartin Maska

& Tomáš Mrva

Over the past couple of years, Bratislava has become a party

hub. Slovakians and Austrians rub elbows with each other in the city’s

many underground bars and clubs. Could

cross-border clubbing become a major trend

in the future?

6

PARTY WITHOUT BORDERS

under 26 years old, the bus fare is only 75

cents. Drinks are also much cheaper than

in Austria, so it makes sense that people

from towns and villages near the border

prefer Bratislava to Vienna. What are their

favourite venues? Richard tells us that

they often go to the Sky Bar near the U.S.

embassy: “You can go up to the roof, and

they also have a good drink menu.”

Irena, a Serbian who lived in Vienna for

a while before moving to Belgium for an

Erasmus exchange year, is another cross-

border party addict. Shortly after coming to

Vienna, she met a Bosnian guy and asked

him about what places in Vienna were good

to go out to. His answer? “Hmm, to be

honest, all my best nights out while living

in Vienna were in Bratislava”. She laughed

and he promised to take her along on some

of his party trips. They usually went five or

six times a year, mostly to Cirkus Barok,

Nu Spirit Bar and RIO. “The clubs may not

have the most amazing designs, but the

atmosphere is generally more spontaneous.

Guys also find girls better looking than in

Vienna”, she smiles.

Bernadette recently joined Richard and

a group of friends to celebrate a friend’s

birthday in Bratislava. It was her first “party

trip” to the Slovakian capital. “Bars are

different there, and sometimes we simply

want a change of scenery”, she says.

Although she has been to Bratislava’s clubs

only once, she knows a lot about the party

scene of the Slovakian capital. Her brother

is a drummer and plays in two international

jazz bands—jEzzSPRIT and the Gabo

Jonas Trio—that perform in Bratislava. “I’ve

heard of some great concerts from updates

made by Austrian bands that play there, so

I’d like to go check that out, too”.

Despite four decades of both countries

being isolated from each other, neither

Bernadette nor Richard considers

Bratislava to be too different from Vienna

or other Austrian cities. “It’s like Vienna,

and there’s also a lot of nice graffiti”, says

Bernadette. “It’s a growing city, so I don’t

think it’s really too different”. But first

impressions of Bratislava can be mixed.

When you arrive from Austria, the sight

is not spectacular; the Petržalka housing

estate, with its 150 thousand inhabitants

and dozens of Soviet era apartment blocks,

is considered an eyesore. “The bus station

and bridge are weird, but the statues are

super fun and cool to take photos of”, Irena

tells us.

What about the people? Richard seems

convinced that, “people in Bratislava smile

more and are typically more open, whereas

people in Vienna are always in a hurry”.

Bernadette’s view is a bit more nuanced. “I

think in Bratislava, you’re just more aware

of your surroundings, which is why your

first impression may be a bit distorted.”

And how does Irena compare people in

Bratislava to the Viennese? Historically,

relationships between Serbia and Slovakia

have typically been very good, so her

answer doesn’t surprise us. “People are

friendlier, are open to making contacts

and talking with strangers. They’re louder,

wilder, less formal, less snobbish and more

into partying than posing”.

It might still take a number of years before

all differences fade away entirely, but

even today the borders seem to be little

more than lines on a map. Although the

famous tram from Vienna to Bratislava that

was operational from 1919 to 1945 is a

thing of the past, today bus number 901

connects people from both sides. As for

Bernadette and Richard, we’ve asked them

to let us know next time they’re partying

in Bratislava. And when Irena returns from

Belgium, she’ll be invited too. Partygoers of

the world unite!

Our thanks go to Cafebabel Vienna for

their great help with our article.

7

PARTY WITHOUT BORDERS

More than 25 years ago, it seemed inconceivable. Today

it’s as common and natural as using smartphones: everyday,

hundreds of Slovaks cross the border to work in the

Austrian capital Vienna, just 60 kilometres away from

Bratislava. David and Linda woke up early enough to catch the early bird train, in order to

take a closer look at Slovaks’ motivations, feelings and

attitudes surrounding their cross-border lifestyles.

DIRECTED BY

Linda Tóthová &

David Tiefenthaler

WATCH IT HERE:

http://youtu.be/toFaQCVuruc

BorderHoppingtoVienna

9

BORDER HOPPING TO VIENNA

10

GÖRLITZ, COME FROM THE DEAD

Zgorzelec appears like any other Polish

city—a mixture of old, beautiful buildings

amidst ugly billboards. The main street is

crammed with small tobacco shops, and

leads to the Pope John Paul II bridge over

the Nyssa River. It’s a typical Polish mix of

the sacred interwoven with the profane. As

soon as you cross the bridge into Görlitz,

which serves as a symbolic border, you

can sense a difference. And it’s not just

the Germans’ love of order and the archaic

Gothic fonts on street signs: Görlitz’s streets

are mostly filled with pensioners and school

children, the main street seems like the set

of a Western film and shopfronts with their

missing windows appear as if looted by

cowboys.

The reasons for this have their origins in the

Fall of the Berlin Wall 25 years ago. “You

would definitely notice if roughly 10 000

people were to suddenly leave”, says Daniel

Breutmann, chairman of the association

goerlitz21. During the communist era, many

people fled in search of a better life in the

West. But since the collapse of communism,

the migrants’ numbers have exploded, and

Görlitz is no exception. East Germany has

now lost nearly two million inhabitants, or

13% of the population. As industry and

infrastructure crumbled, lots of old factories

and municipal buildings became derelict.

“Sometimes people break into abandoned

buildings just to steal old door frames”, says

Daniel. Zgorzelec, on the Polish side of the

border, has fared slightly better and doesn’t

have to fight brain drain and migration to the

same extent.

To stop vandalism, break-ins and

dilapidation in Görlitz, Daniel Breutmann

and his association take part in the online

project Leerstandsmelder, which is located

throughout Germany. Its online platform

Over the last two decades, Görlitz and Zgorzelec, like many cities post-1989, have undergone rapid changes. On the German side of the border, parts of the city are derelict. Now, young people are figuring out what to do with all the empty spaces.

TEXTChristina Heuschen & Emilia Wanat

PHOTOGRAPHYEmilia Wanat

GÖRLITZ, COMEFROM THE DEAD

11

GÖRLITZ, COME FROM THE DEAD

allows people to not only report empty

spaces, but also search for them. Goerlitz21

serves as an agency that processes formal

requests to use and rent spaces. Some

have come from the German-French

television channel ARTE, as well as from the

Babelsberg Filmstudios, one of the oldest

film studios in the world. But there have also

been commercial requests for shops and

storage spaces on Leerstandsmelder. “Aside

from well known empty spaces in Görlitz,

such as the city hall, the RAW train yard in

Schlauroth or the capacitor factory, there is

a lot of hidden commercial and private real

estate”, Daniel explains.

The Kühlhaus, for example, was built in the

‘50s and was just being renovated when the

Berlin Wall came down. The monumental

building, which was used as a means of

refrigerating food, wound up becoming a

ruin. But recently, the Kühlhaus has risen

from the dead. In 2008, young people from

the area were looking for a space where

they could organize events. In contrast to

cities like Berlin, Warsaw or Vienna, Görlitz

lacks the kind of venues that would appeal

to artists, hipsters and partygoers. The

Kühlhaus seemed the perfect place—it’s

outside of town, but connected by public

transportation. The space is enormous and

has a large garden outside that’s perfect

for hosting open-air events. But its interior

was in complete disarray, the floor was

overgrown with grass and weeds, and the

windows and roof looked like decaying

pieces of refuse.

“We‘re using the past to create something

new”, says Nadine Mietk. “Like right now,

I‘m repairing and painting window frames.”

There are about sixteen volunteers like her,

people who are helping with the renovation

of the Kühlhaus. The air is filled with the

smell of paint and solvent. A shelf that’s

propped up against the wall has been

brought here from a local school. With retro

furniture and an old school radio, the entire

space looks like a vintage collector’s dream.

Ironically, abandoned buildings like the

Kühlhaus may be just the opportunity

for Görlitz to come back to life. “These

empty buildings are great outlets for the

creative economy as well as for young

people”, says Juliane Wedlich, one of the

Kühlhaus managers. “There are enough

cheap and free spaces here that can be

used for alternative projects in culture and

business”. In 2012, the team organized the

first MoxxoM-Openair—an electronic music

festival that’s grown into a three-day event.

And as of 2015, they’ve been receiving a

large sponsorship from the Robert Bosch

Foundation.

With their project Jugend.Stadt.Labor

Rabryka (Youth.City.Laboratory Rabryka,

Ed.), the local organisation Second Attempt

has an equally positive impact on the

cityscape of Görlitz. Through its cultural and

artistic workshops and projects, Second

Attempt aims to mitigate the hopelessness

that the youth in Eastern Germany feel. “We

believe that we can guide young people to

start their own initiatives”, explains Erik Thiel,

one of the project volunteers. “They need to

participate to shape their living space and

to actualise their dreams for society, apart

from simply being consumers”. Rabryka was

developed by a group of young people at the

Fokus Festival, where young Germans and

Poles—not just from Görlitz and Zgorzelec,

but from all over Poland—gather together.

Rabryka is now located in the Energiefabrik,

a former factory used to meet industrial

demands for yeast production. Although

industrial barrels and train rails are

reminiscent of the factory’s past, its large

and elaborate graffiti are testimony to its

modern uses. Whether through renovation,

horticulture or musical projects, Rabryka

aims to develop new ideas for urban

development. “It’s an experimental laboratory

through which we want to bring the city

back to life“, says Erik. To achieve this, they

network with youths, sponsors and local

municipality. But there is also cooperation

with organisations across the border in

Zgorzelec. “Most of the events are bilingual”,

says Inga Dreger, who is a board member

of Second Attempt. “However, the primary

emphasis shouldn‘t be put on the German-

Polish relationship because that should be

taken for granted in the borderland”.

However enthusiastic the project managers

and volunteers of Leerstandsmelder,

Kühlhaus and Rabryka might be, bringing a

whole city back to life isn’t an easy feat. The

number of organisational and bureaucratic

obstacles can seem daunting, but they’re

not insurmountable. “Over the past few

years, cooperation with the local municipality

has clearly improved”, says Juliane Wedlich.

“There are some reconsiderations taking

place, although we sometimes feel it takes

too long. We hope that city officials realise

the great opportunity that these empty

spaces offer, and with this a chance for

young and creative people to thrive”.

Erik Thiel agrees: “Space always holds

possibilities, but it also entails problems

such as building stock, reducing noise

emission or making arrangements for fire

safety”. Still, Erik, Juliane and the others

are doing their best to resurrect Görlitz from

the dead. Maybe one day in the near future,

the city’s main street won’t feel like such a

Wild West ghost town anymore. If you listen

closely, you can almost begin to hear the

saloon doors of the Kühlhaus swaying back

and forth to the bustle of partygoers.

MeltingPotinBudapest

12

MELTING POT IN BUDAPEST

DIRECTED BY

Eva Proske &

Ráhel Németh

WATCH IT HERE

http://youtu.be/Pw_gFhe_IBI

The number of people with foreign passports

living in Hungary has steadily grown in the

last ten years. That’s why Hungary’s Prime

Minister Viktor Orbán has been trying to

toughen his country’s immigration laws.

Above all, he seems to be frightened by the

prospect of “parallel cultures”.

The largest migration group in Hungary are

Germans, comprising roughly two per cent

of the Hungarian population. We met up

with a number of them in Budapest and

came to learn that the concept of a German

“parallel culture” doesn’t hold weight. Rather

than staying solely amongst themselves,

Germans are very curious about the

Hungarian culture and society. Many have

heard about public German get-togethers,

but have never gone. Despite what people

may assume, Budapest doesn’t seem to

be the “next Berlin”. So, what does Viktor

Orbán have to worry about?

13

MELTING POT IN BUDAPEST

14

A SILENT FAREWELL TO THE POLISH MARKET

“Here comes the Poland bus!”, calls one of the retirees at the Frankfurt (Oder) railway station.

Shortly after, a group of elderly people squeeze their way into the vehicle. Its doors close after

the last rolling walkers, wheelchairs and suitcases with cat embroidery are stowed away. The

passengers’ mission is written on the bus’s side windows in a bold font: “Travelling to

Słubice for cheap prices” and “Off to Poland for extra goodies.” Many of the retirees have

travelled the extra 100 kilometres from Berlin, taking advantage of special offers provided by

the Deutsche Bahn railway company. Their shopping lists read, “visit my hairdresser”, “blue

pills for my buddies”, “coffee” and, of course, “cigarettes”.

The bus navigates the tower block district before steering in the direction of the Oder bridge.

Although the border checkpoint buildings have in recent years been torn down, and there have

ceased to be inspections, one can sense a border. A large number of gaudy billboards spring

up out of the ground immediately after crossing the bridge: “Cigarettes 24 Hours”, “Super

Cheap!” and again, “Cigarettes!!!!!”. The small town of Słubice, with its 17,000 inhabitants,

seems to be blanketed with smoke shops. There are two bazaars here, both of which

Germans like to call “Polish Markets”. The larger of the two is a few kilometres outside of the

city centre. Weekend tourists are able to get everything here, from wailing puppies to knockoff

Thor Steinar clothes—a brand hugely popular with neo-Nazis.

The smaller bazaar, which is just a few hundred metres away from the Oder bridge, is

considered an insiders’ secret. It consists of an easily navigable number of roofed corridors.

Small shops are lined up next to each other, packed to the brim with a vibrant mishmash of

goods: kitschy frilled curtains next to sparkly tiger print blouses, pirated Andrea Berg CDs next

to fishing tackle, garden gnomes and plastic dolls, fruits, vegetables and chocolate pralines.

Following your nose, you wind up at the very heart of the bazaar: the Bar Appetit. Bratwursts

and chicken legs dribbling with grease are piled up behind the counter. The small room is

already packed in the morning with small groups of elderly people, who sit at plastic tables

and go to town on their breaded schnitzels with plastic silverware. Ketchup, mayonnaise and

mustard are on standby in XXL squeeze bottles.

At the beginning ofthe ‘90s, finding cheap prices on goods—from

cigarettes, garden gnomes, knockoff

perfume, among other things—was as easy as going on a trip to

the “Polish Markets” in Słubice. Is business at the bazaars still booming, 25 years after the Fall of the

Berlin Wall?

TEXTJohanna Meyer-Gohde &

Aleksandra Łuczak

PHOTOGRAPHYJohanna Meyer-Gohde

A S I L E N T

FA R E W E L L

T O T H E

P O L I S H

M A R K E T

15

A SILENT FAREWELL TO THE POLISH MARKET

Marysia, with her red apron, short red dyed

haircut, and friendly but stern demeanour,

serves drinks. “In Poland we actually eat

later in the day, around 4 p.m.”, she explains

in a fluid German with strong Polish accent,

“but here lunchtime is from 11 to 2, just like

in Germany”. The 56-year-old opened the

small bazaar tuck shop more than 20 years

ago. Today, she only occasionally cooks

and serves, her youngest daughter having

taken over management a couple years ago.

Before the Fall of the Iron Curtain, Marysia

was a seamstress at a local factory that was

forced to close—like many state companies

in Poland—after 1989. Like her, many Poles

used the newly won economic freedoms

that the collapse of socialism offered them

to open their own small businesses.

Further down the corridor is Zofia’s flower

shop. “Cigarettes would have brought in

more money, but I thought flowers better

suited a woman”, says the mid 60-year-

old as she bundles pink anthurium flowers

into a bouquet with green grasses. The

bouquet is intended for one of her regular

customers: Dieter. He runs errands while his

wife is getting a haircut next door. Chatting

with Zofia—in German, naturally—is part

of the bazaar experience. Like so many

other Frankfurters, Dieter’s Polish skills are

limited—even after all these years—to words

like “please” and “thank you”. “If he had

gotten a Polish woman in bed, then I’m sure

his Polish would be better”, Zofia jokingly

says after he leaves her shop.

Of all her customers, 90% are German.

“They really like things to be comfortable”,

says the experienced saleswoman. In

Poland, it’s not at all common to put flowers

on the table. “It’s not really worth it, because

they only last a few days”, she says. She’s

noticed over the past couple of years that

the customers have increasingly been older

people. “Young people shop in all those evil

monstrosities”, she says, meaning discount

stores, supermarkets and shopping centres.

“Besides, there are constantly fewer people

living in Frankfurt. Just look at all those

blocks of flats. Many of them are either

empty or are being torn down”.

The number of residents in Frankfurt, just

like many other East Germany cities, is

in fact sinking. While there were 86,000

residents directly after the Fall, that number

has reduced by roughly a third. Even a

demographic shift has been noticeable;

young people under 29 years old make

up less than 26% of the city population,

while the number of those over 45 steadily

increased to 60% in 2012. Frankfurt has

been unsuccessful in the fight to reverse

this trend. Regardless of the fact that it has

a university, many students would rather

commute an hour to Berlin, a city that in

terms of jobs and recreation is hard to

outmatch.

The amount of customers at the bazaar

has also been decreasing, because the

prices on both sides of the Oder have

been catching up with each other over the

past couple of years. Nevertheless, the

preconception in Germany that everything is

cheaper in Poland is still widely spread. This

is a reflection of the reality that existed in the

early ‘90s. Back then, the price difference

was so huge that Germans went in droves

to the bazaars to find wholesale bargains

on goods. Now products in Polish stores

cost almost as much as they do in German

stores. And because the Polish Market is

geared toward the German wallet, many

things in supermarkets and discount stores

are even a little more expensive.

“We never go to the bazaar”, says Joanna

Pyrgiel. The energetic 38-year-old, who is

responsible for foreign collaboration at the

municipal office, has lived in Słubice for

several years, and has been to the bazaar

only once. In contrast to Frankfurt, Słubice

is seeing a steady increase in population.

The possibility of living in Poland and being

able to work just across the border in

Germany is attracting Poles to the Oder

from the country’s every nook and cranny.

“Over there”, salaries are higher, and there

seems to be a lack of skilled employees.

After the border controls were done away

with in 2009, the relationship between

Frankfurt and Słubice intensified. What was

considered unimaginable a couple years ago

is the norm today, like the bus connection

over the Oder, or the German-Polish schools

and day-care centres that have sprung up.

And there are even collaborative cultural

events and festivals. Young people from

both parts of the “double city”, as Pyrgiel

so describes Frankfurt and Słubice, meet

up in numerous clubs and bars throughout

Słubice. For the residents of Słubice, the

bazaar exists more so in the periphery of

their awareness.

The merchants of the small bazaar aren’t

creating illusions for themselves about the

future of the “Polish Markets”. Should their

country join the Eurozone in the not-too-

distant future, they could lose their price

advantages. “The Euro will come, old

nans will die out, then the merchants, too,

and soon after there wont be a bazaar at

all”, says Zofia in a sober tone. It’s now 3

p.m.—time for Zofia to take her bouquets

out of their vases and store them in her

shop. The vegetable merchant to the right

and the praline merchant to the left are also

busy packing up their goods, while Marysia

wipes down her tables. The corridors are

empty around this time. The last remaining

customers leave the bazaar through the

eastern entrance, where a discount store,

whose parking lot is packed at this time of

day, awaits them. Here, the shopping has

just begun.

CHRISTINAHEUSCHEN

Be rl in

Journalist & copywriter

JEE HEIPARK

Be rl in

Graphic designer & Illustrator

TOMÁŠMRVA

B rat is lava

Freelance journalist, copywriter &

translator

ALEKSANDRAŁUCZAK

Be rl in/Poznań

Student (interpreting & Eastern

European History)

JOHANNAMEYER-GOHDE

Be rl in

Student (Central & Eastern

European Studies)

DAVIDT IEFENTHALER

Vienna

Student (politics & journalism)

RÁHELNÉMETH

Budapest

Student (translation & interpreting)

LILIANP ITHAN

Be rl in

Journalist, editor &

translator

16

CONTRIBUTORS

LINDATÓTHOVÁ

B rat is lava

Executive Search & Business Psychologist

We would like to thank Sébastien Vannier, Alicia Prager, Adrien Le Coärer, Katharina Kloss, Kait Bolongaro, Katarzyna Piasecka and Alice Cases

for their help and support in assembling the reportage project, as well as Christiane Lötsch, Ines Fernau, Yvonne Röttgers, Zofia Dziewanowska-

Stefańczyk, Christian Schnalzger, Rebecca Dora Kajos, Fleur Grelet, Alice Grinand, Mathias Markl, Lucie Chamlian and Kamil Exner for their

fantastic contributions to our online magazine. We would also like to thank Thomas Krüger, Miriam Vogel and Daniel Kraft from the German Federal

Agency for Civic Education (Bundeszentrale für politische Bildung/bpb) who made this reportage project possible through their financial support.

DANIELSTÄCHEL IN

Davis , Cal ifornia

Translator & journalist

EVAPROSKE

Vienna

Freelance journalist

MARTINMASKA

Vienna/C hote b or

Treasurer for European Youth Press (EYP),

documentary filmmaker

EMILIAWANAT

C racow

Freelance journalist

RÓŻAROZMUS

Warsaw

Student (Applied Linguistics)

17

CONTRUBUTORS & ACKNOWLEDGMENTS