Ivica: A True Story of an Immigrant

By Robert Ljuba

The second son of a widow who works diligently just to keep herself and her young sons alive, John Ljuba dreams of seeing the world and having a life somewhere beyond the tiny coastal island he calls home. Against overwhelming odds and the numerous naysayers he encounters, this remarkable young man teaches himself not one, but two foreign languages, always preparing to live the life of his dreams in a foreign country. When his chance to immigrate away from Yugoslavia finally comes, John must fight the communist politics of his home country to grasp it. Now a foreigner in a new world, John encounters more obstacles and more wonder than he could have imagined. Through his adventures in Germany and America, we see the spirit of this one, young immigrant grow to outweigh the challenges he faces in realizing his dream.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Robert Ljuba
• Release date: Sep 2, 2015
• ISBN: 9781310933790

Book preview

My grandfather John Ivica Ljuba within seven notebooks wrote this book. Rather than chapters like in your traditional book, this one is divided by notebooks. These notebooks were extremely hard to translate without him here with us anymore, but luckily between our family friend, Mardon Reiner, and my grandmother, Lisa Ljuba, they were able to interpret my grandfather’s story.

My grandfather excelled in life by the work of his hands and love for my grandmother. His hands are a symbol of strength, courage, and determination in my eyes that is why I tried to capture this image in the cover with my own hands alongside the river where he spent most of his time gold panning. I like to think that his prospecting hobby was his way to escape society and enjoy the equipment that he hand build in his machine shop. My one regret now that he is gone is that I never grew interest in his hobby…if I could go back in time I wouldn’t do it for myself, but for him. I tell each of you that still have your grandparents; cherish them, love them, adore them and support them! They need us just like we need them. Enjoy!

John Ljuba

1

Notebook One

In the year of 1936, I was born on a small island in the Adriatic Sea. The name of the island is Zlarin. I was born into a family with much happiness, but we were very poor. At the age of 5 years, I lost my father during World War II. My oldest brother, Jerko, was ten and my youngest brother, Srecko, was newborn. My lovely mother was about 37 years old and remained a widow from that time on. The opportunities for the future were very poor. The island was bombed by the Germans nearly every day for quite some time.

The Island of Zlarin was approximately five miles long and three miles wide. The ground was very rocky; the rocks prevented crops of any kind from growing well. There was no food of any kind because all the little stores had been bombed. This is when the battle for survival began for my family.

My mother remained unmarried because of her three children. She devoted her life to her sons, practically giving her life for us. She would help other people on the island in return for just a little food to bring home to us. We were hungry but happy.

We also had two sheep and a donkey. We got a little milk from the sheep, and Mother would mix it with corn meal for our dinner. There was nothing else to eat.

In approximately 1941 – 1942, we had the opportunity to evacuate to Africa. In our battle to survive, we could either die on the island or leave our home and go to Africa. Approximately 15% of the island residents escaped to Africa by boat. At that time, Jerko was 11, I was six, and Srecko was only one year of age.

My mother was torn between life and death. She was asked if she would give her two sons to other people from the island to be escorted to Africa. In the dead silence, I only heard my mother bitterly crying; she had just lost her husband, and now had to give two little sons up to go to Africa. It was unbearable pain for my mother. Finally, with great pain and sorrow, she gave us to a lady from the island, Mrs. Marija-Ljuba, to guide us and be responsible for us, just as a mother would do.

Zlarin was constantly bombed both day and night. Finally the day came to depart to Africa. The best meal my mother could prepare for our departure was sheep milk mixed with corn meal. All the relatives were present to say good-bye. It was nighttime when we left because the enemy might see us if we traveled during the day. As it was, planes were lighting the island during the night, so we had to hide as they were flaring across the island.

Finally, we managed to leave the island by boat to another island, perhaps 5 miles further. There, a larger boat was waiting to take us to Bari, Italy. It took many hours to travel because not only was it nighttime, but we could not make any engine noise as the sound would attract the attention of the enemy.

Many times the boat waited perfectly still on the Adriatic Sea. As the war continued, so did the panic in the boat. There was great fear—mothers alone with children, children without mothers, etc.

That particular night I knew I had something to do, but what? What could I do as a 6-year-old boy full of fear and darkness—fear of the enemies in the air and submarines from the sea? Suddenly, I felt silence in me, a peace. I did not know what to do with that peace. Then again, the uncertainty returned, along with great fear and sorrow for my mother and my baby brother, who remained on the Island of Zlarin.

Inwardly, I started to cry. Instinctively, I felt the need to cry for others, my mother and brother, and for me. The silence occurred again, then more crying and agony. Jerko stood by me all this time and knew nothing about the battle going on in my heart and soul.

I, too, knew nothing definitely, but I knew that something was there. Of course, at that time I didn’t know what nature, the universe, or God was. I looked at the dark sky and cried inwardly again. I wish at that time, that my little heart could cry out to my Father in Heaven.

I didn’t know God. Of course nobody ever told me about such things in a Communist country; they didn’t believe in God.

Readers, please forgive me for staying on this subject. It is of great importance for you to know about me in a perilous time such as that.

So again I turned inwardly in a dark corner of the boat, where nobody could see me, but only feel and hear me by my name in the Serbo-Croation language, Ivica. As the journey continued toward the coast of Italy, Bari, the fear grew greater in me.

The sea was rough and unpleasant, made more so by the people packed in the boat with their fears and panic. After so many dreadful hours on the sea, by daylight we finally reached the coast of Italy.

As we arrived close to the shore of Bari, the Italian police boat came to us to inspect who we were, where we were coming from, and what our destination was. Everything seemingly was okay. So we came to the shore. The Italian police took us to a large building so we might eat and spend the night before the long journey in the morning to the coast of Africa across the Nile River.

In Bari that particular night, I became very ill. My escort mother, Mrs. Marija-Ljuba, took care of me. I had a high fever. She was very concerned for me because we had to go in the morning on the long journey to Africa. When the morning came, I was still very ill.

Some men came to us and announced that the journey would be delayed for a day or two; we didn’t know why, but it was a good thing for me and my recovery. There wasn’t a bed where we slept, only hay for animals. Finally, in two days, departure was announced. I did not feel quite well, but I didn’t have a choice; I had to go with the convoy to a big ship which would be traveling to Africa.

We embarked to a ship with 11,000 people on it. It was a very large ship, three decks high with 28 life boats on it. As we were boarding that huge ship, we were escorted by two guards because it was very high, perhaps 110 feet from the water level to the first deck. The ship was equipped with microphones on all three decks.

When all 11,000 passengers were on board, we left the coast of Bari. Destination: Port Said, Aleksandria, and Cairo.

So the long journey began. Immediately, the Captain called us on all the decks to tell us the important things we should know. 1) We had to have life jackets on when emergencies were announced. 2) We were protected with two submarines, two planes, and a complete fleet of perhaps ten war ships in case of attack from the enemy. These ships were English ships, all of them.

The sea was rough and turbulent. The crew from the ship told us that the sea contained a lot of sharks—very dangerous. So the danger was from both the air (the enemy) and from the water (the dreadful sharks).

The journey reportedly would take approximately 11 – 15 days if everything went okay. I was very afraid, panicky, and full of uncertainty for our future—11 year-old Jerko and 6-year-old me. The fear was unbearable, but I could do nothing about it. Sometimes during the night, we received siren and microphone calls to come to the deck immediately, just to see how fast 11,000 passengers could be ready if the enemy should attack us.

I didn’t have peace of any kind. I was always wandering on the ship, running away from Jerko and Mrs. Marija-Ljuba. I became a nuisance and a problem for them both. That ship carried English soldiers and I was running to them. They sympathized with me and always gave me chocolate bars and little gifts. I was spanked many times, and I think I deserved them at such an age in such circumstances.

I was sick most of the time because of the rough sea. I couldn’t eat or sleep— only throw up whatever I ate. As the journey took its course, there was not very much to do on the ship at such an age for me but get lost, create problems, and be a burden. Jerko and Mrs. Marija-Ljuba were concerned about me. With my blue eyes and snow white hair, I was attracting lots of attention and lots of problems. I was willing to do anything, not only good things, but bad things as well.

I was lonely and impatient. I needed love from my mother and my little brother, Srecko, who were left on the Island across the Channel of Bari. The only hope on that crowded ship was the empty sky, the stars, and the chance for an uncertain future—if I should have any future at all.

At that time I didn’t know what was present, past, or future. Still, while I was thinking all those things in my childish mind, something was there for me to communicate with. I didn’t know what, or why and how to communicate with IT. I knew there was something to turn my little eyes to, my little soul and my troubled mind. I felt many times, be still, but I couldn’t be still. I used to say to IT, Leave me alone! I don’t wish to be still! Who are you? Please, leave me alone. I want to die on this ship, but please don’t let me die alone; if I have to die, then let it be with all the passengers—all 11,000, not alone!

You see, even then, I was greedy and selfish, not wanting to die alone.

Why do all those innocent people have to die with me if they want to live? I asked myself and the stars. Is there anybody on this ship that wants to die like you, John, or is it you alone?

The strange thought came to me. Perhaps you are crazy or sick. I looked overboard on the ship 100 feet high or more and said to my thoughts, I’m afraid to jump. I’m afraid to die. And I’m afraid to know what will happen to me in my future life.

In this trance, I huddled on the deck of the ship in my deep thoughts, as they were looking for me everywhere. When they found me, they told me that something was wrong with me. That did it! Their remarks matched my thoughts as a 6 year-old-boy. Perhaps I was a sick person. But the fight in my mind to survive could not leave me alone.

The fact is, I was lonely without my mother. My mother’s great love was missing in me. For that reason, I didn’t wish to be born or to live without her and her great love for me. Jerko and Mrs. Marija-Ljuba did not know anything about this. To this very day, I’ve told no one until now as I’m writing to my beloved readers. Think, my dear friends, what a lack of love can do to a child, even when the child is too young to quite understand what love is!

You are born to be loved, to give and receive love. Please do not reject those who want to give you love, or those in need of receiving love. My readers, please give yourself completely to this world while you live, only for the purpose of God’s love on this earth. Once William Shakespeare said, As the night follows the day, so the day will follow the night. Christ said, Be truthful to yourself, and you will be truthful to all mankind. My readers, wherever you are, we all need each other with open arms of true love!

On the ship, every day was very long for the little lonely boy called John. After those bad impulses, I began to hallucinate and dream of the new, unknown world called Africa.

Slowly we were coming closer to a new continent. Finally, after 15 days, we reached the Suez Canal—Port Said, Aleksandria. We stopped in Aleksandria to disembark and take a US Army GMC truck which would bring us to a destination in the desert across the Suez Canal. At approximately 70 – 100 km from Mt. Sinai, where Christ was crucified, we arrived at a desolate desert with only tent camps made by an English colony. There were 100 – 200 usable tents, each of which could hold about 15 – 25 people. The temperature was a constant 100 – 125 degrees all year-round! We were surrounded by the Red Sea, which was 80 – 100 km from us. Our camp was equipped with several open public bathrooms—far from decent. In a way, it was like a concentration camp; we were just a little more free. When they served us milk, we would go with a few people from the tent to the kitchen and carry the milk back in big buckets. Food was poor, not very edible, and not enough. The Arabs were all over, like the gypsies in some parts of Europe.

All of us were crying very loudly, but there was no help of any kind or comfort from anyone. New life began—endurance, hope, and fight for survival. Our beds were made from hay in the barn. The tent contained three layers of cloth: white, blue, and yellow. The people used to take out a layer from the tent to make a dress or shirt to wear. We didn’t have money, or very little of it. With what little we had, we couldn’t buy anything because there weren’t any stores in the vicinity. Sometimes the elderly people used to travel with an escort of English soldiers to go to the nearest city. We were given small amounts of money at the end of the month from the English colony, and we would give that money to those people to buy something for us. Otherwise, the desert was completely desolate.

As small and young as I was, I thought about my mother and my brother, Srecko, whom I had left behind on the island. Jerko used to save a piece of cheese, some candies, and other small things, to make a package to send to our mother and brother in Yugoslavia. Of course, we didn’t know if they would receive our package because of the wartime in Yugoslavia, but we sent it anyway. I was always hungry and greedy. There was so little to eat! And Jerko would take half my share of food to send to our mother. It was incredible and sad to me. After a couple of months we received a reply from our mother saying that they had received a package. I was happy to know that my mother and brother were alive and well.

So we started to save more chocolate, sugar, cheese, and other things to send in another package. Secretly I didn’t like it. I would think, There goes my share of food again. My dear readers, you see how selfish a person can become when he is hungry? On the other hand, I loved my mother and brother very much. The war wasn’t pleasant for anyone. As time went on, we hoped to go home soon. False dreams! The people lived with great hopes and dreams. It’s what kept them alive. Once a great German philosopher, Albert Schweitzer, said, When you take a real dream from a person, then you kill that person.

I dreamed when I didn’t know what to dream. I saw my home island, my mother with open arms, and my little brother, Srecko. I rested in hope, and they rested in hope. What joy, pain, impatience, sorrow, and agony used to occupy my heart and my mind!

Again, all was deluded to nothingness. Even as a 6 year-old child I used to think, What use is there to live, what is the matter with the world—or me? I went through agony with these thoughts every day. I lived in my own world and nobody knew anything about it. I was afraid to tell anyone what was going on in my own mind.

The world then, as today, cannot accept what the eye cannot see. Even as a child, I was very depressed. Depression comes from anger. Anger comes from uncertainty. And uncertainty comes from lack of FAITH. I knew that something was lacking in me, but I didn’t know what. If there was nothing lacking or missing in me, how could I, as a child, know these things? You see, readers, I’m taking you deep into my true story.

Let me go back to camp life. We had some kind of school in our camp for the children, so I enrolled in a first-year class. The teacher, a lady, was from Split, a city in Yugoslavia close to Dubrovnik.

During the morning hours I spent in school, Jerko went to work on the Red Sea. Boys of ten and older were taken to perform light work for the English colony. They went in the morning and returned in the evening on the GMC trucks.

Jerko was very mature for his 11 years, and I didn’t like him very much. I wanted to be an independent and nasty child, but he wouldn’t allow me. Nobody likes to be dominated. He used to tell me all the things I had to do after school, but he wouldn’t do much. So, I always wanted revenge against him. I was told I was too small and had to listen to him. He was very serious for his age. Even then I didn’t like serious people because life was serious enough and full of problems.

My first year in class, I was a very good student. In that time, I could write my name and some short sentences in the Arabic language. We were taught in our Serbo-Croatian language and a little in Arabic. I remember knowing a little bit of the Arabic and English languages.

After school hours, there was very little homework, if any. Since we always had wind in the desert, I made a paper tank. The paper tank could climb little sandy hills and valleys. I would run after my tank and compete with other children. We had a contest one day. The German General Rommel had a war in Africa before us, so we were told, and the German tanks had made these deep holes in the sand where we played with our paper tanks. Some holes were 20-30 feet in diameter and 5-6 feet deep.

In that part of the desert we did not see any animals. When I did not have school, I would wear only my swim trunks because of the hot weather. One nice day, as I was running alone after my paper tank, I saw a man on a bicycle. That was an unusual sight to see in the desert. He came closer to me and stopped. He was about 40 years old. He had a new bicycle and was very well dressed.

I thought, Who is he? What does he want from me?

He began to talk to me and asked me my name. I told him the name I was given in Yugoslavia, Ivica. He asked me a lot of questions. I paused for a little while, and I sensed that he must like me or why would he stop there to talk to me?

The man told me to meet him tomorrow at a certain desert place and he would take me somewhere. I agreed. He left his way and I left mine, playing with my little paper tank for a while. It was getting dark when I came back to camp, and my brother spanked me. I knew I deserved it because I was late. In spite of that, I did not say anything about the man I saw that day.

I was a hard-headed child. I told my brother, Listen, I shall not share my part of the food with you or send any of it to Yugoslavia. I was angry and was trying to punish other people.

The night came and I lay down on the hay bed. I started to think about what happened to me during the day. I asked myself a lot of questions. I spent the night in pleasant thoughts about what a new tomorrow would bring. I kept my secret about the man. Somehow I liked him, and then again, I did not like him.

The next morning the man and I met again, and he was very happy to see me. This time I did not like him at all. I was polite, but did not show my true feelings. He said to me, Ivica, let us go.

I asked him, Where do you want to take me? I was afraid because I did not know where he was going to take me, and Mrs. Marija-Ljuba and Jerko did not know anything about where I was.

He came closer to me and tried to hug me and said, Ivica, please come with me to the store. It is my great pleasure to dress you with new clothes from top to the bottom.

Thousands of thoughts went through my head at that moment. I asked myself again and again, why is he doing all this for me? How could someone want to do this for poor me? I did not like myself, and I felt sorry for myself because I was an orphan without a father.

He stood by me and very quietly said, I don’t need anything from you because I have all I need except the one thing I need the most. That is to say, I don’t have any family living on this earth. My parents are dead. I am not married and am unhappy, but a very rich man. He moved his arm around in a circle and said, Those oil fields far away are all mine. I am seeking someone to whom I can give something. You are the first one; please come closer to me. I need you. Let us have fun together and I shall buy you everything. Whatever you wish will be yours.

I said to him, That is too much for you to offer me. I cannot accept such a gift. Besides, what will my brother say? He will wonder where I have been and who would have given me all of those things? I was afraid to accept anything, but I was also proud and wanted to look good, so I was sorely tempted to have the things he was offering—things I had never had before.

The man said to me, Ivica, I shall buy all that you wish, and we can go to your brother, and I shall tell him everything.

When the man told me that, I began to trust him. I told him, All right. Let us go to the store, buy the clothes, and I shall tell my brother alone. So we got into his Jeep and we went to the store. He bought me clothes that were very fine, and a lot of toys also. I felt like a new person.

Afterwards, he took me back to our meeting place. He returned to where his workmen were, and I went back to camp. Mrs. Marija-Ljuba and Jerko hardly recognized me with the new clothes. They started to ask me where the clothes came from, so I began to tell them my story. They replied, It can’t be true. You can’t find a rich man in the desert!

I said, I did. If you don’t believe me, please come with me tomorrow, and I shall introduce you to the man. He told me to meet him at the same place where he had gone for a ride on his bicycle.

My brother did not doubt very much after my testimony. He replied, Funny, but I believe you. You are greedy, but you are honest, my little brother.

From that time on, I loved my brother more because he believed in me. I knew that we all needed someone in this world to believe in us, even the stranger in the desert.

The next day, my brother went with me to meet my new, rich friend. When they met, my brother was very reserved. They paused, and I said to both of them, Don’t you two like each other? I like you both very much. We all began to laugh.

My brother exclaimed, It is so nice that my brother, Ivica, met you, sir. The man replied, Please do not call me sir. I do not remember anything else about that conversation, not even the man’s name, but maybe it was meant to be that way.

My brother left us alone and went back to camp. He told me as he was leaving that I should be back in camp also; I knew that he meant it. As the sun was going behind the beautiful desert hills, I was wondering how to say goodbye to my new friend. We stood and looked at each other. We did not know what to say. Somehow I was searching for something far away behind those hills, beyond my understanding. But what?

Suddenly, the man said, I have to go to my men and check the premises and prepare all of the necessary things. Perhaps we will see each other tomorrow. I need to exercise with my bike every day.

I replied, Okay, I shall meet you here tomorrow. Thank you for everything and for a beautiful day. He did not seem impressed with my gratitude. I thought that was strange. I thought he must be a humble man. We departed, looking forward to meeting the next day.

When I arrived at camp, I was expecting a wonderful response from Jerko and Mrs. Marija-Ljuba about my good fortune. But Jerko said to me, Come to me. I would like to talk to you. He was always serious. I never liked it, but he was my brother, so I did not complain or try to change it. He said, Who is that man anyway?

I told him everything I knew.

He said, I don’t believe all of this, and I am afraid for you. It is difficult for me to tell you this, but I am your oldest brother and have to look out for you. So I’ll tell you only this, do not see that man anymore.

I thought he was crazy! Jerko and the man got along so well when they met. This was a drastic change in my brother’s behavior and attitude. Why? I asked. That person is good.

He said, You are too young to know that for sure.

I asked Jerko many questions. Why? What is the reason?

He did not know the answers either, but he said that there was something very wrong with a strange man doing so much for a child he didn’t know.

Even I secretly thought that there must be something wrong with a man to do that, but I was afraid to speak my feelings or thoughts to anyone. I wondered if the man were gay. I asked Jerko, What should I do tomorrow because we are to meet at the same time?

You may go there one last time and tell him that I can’t allow you to see him anymore because you have lots of obligations and duties in the camp, he told me.

The next day I went to meet the stranger. He came, but I was not wearing the clothing that he bought me. He asked me, What happened to the nice clothing I bought for you?

Those clothes are not to be worn every day.

Oh, he said. That is nice.

I was not telling him the whole truth, and he did not smile anymore. Neither did I. We paused for a little longer and I said, I have to go because my brother needs me.

He knew something was wrong. The next day I did not go to meet him.

As the days went by, I went for walks and I took my paper tank with me. One day I was walking behind my tank because there was not enough wind, and I thought my tank should go faster. I saw the strange man on his bicycle coming toward me. At that moment, I suddenly felt a great anger, and I wanted to give back all the clothes that he bought me.

He greeted me, but I did not greet him in return. I began to hate him. I saw him