Dana (26 years old)
Reminders in Guernika
In Guernika, reminders of the destruction caused by the bombs are especially conspicuous because they are completely inconspicuous. I went to the small city as an uninformed, naive foreigner. What did I know about Guernika? That there is a painting by Picasso, that this small city achieved a sad sort of fame – because of the painting by Picasso or the painting because of the city? That German bombs razed Guernika to the ground.
What was I expecting when I entered the city? That crying trees would be on every corner? That misery and mourning would rule? About an event that happened almost 70 years ago? What I expected became obvious to me little by little.
Fist I entered the city – it was raining: modern bus terminal, clean streets, and houses in good condition. Normality. A small city from a picture book. There is a main street that is lined by beautiful houses, and there are small shops, bars, cafés and restaurants under the arcade. A square, more arcades, a statue, flower tubs, in the late afternoon the streets full of women, men, and children. What did I especially notice? Nothing really, only that I was in the mountains and in Basque country. Just a beautiful, small city. With the charm that a small city holds for someone from a metropolis: pleasant, quiet, and serene.
How can I connect this small picture of peace (at least on the surface) with the events of 1937? Of course there are places where people can remember: a modern museum, memorials, and a mosaic of the Picasso painting. Of course there are (still) people who meet to remember and remind.
It wasn’t apparent to me; I didn’t know why it was so difficult for me to connect this Guernika with its destruction until I was back home. It is the uniformity of the buildings, this orderliness, and the picturesque character. The city was rebuilt almost as if nothing had happened. I think about my hometown. More than 60 % of it was destroyed in the war. Not one house is like the other. The city is – and it is not easy to admit – ugly, a collection of buildings from the 60s and 70s broken up by one or two towers from the Middle Ages, crowned by the reconstruction of the Old Town, surrounded by the modern, decay, and chaos. Time itself has become visible here. It is also unimaginable that ruins were heaped here in the past. But a new city grew on top of those ruins, little by little, and their cumulative character reminds one of yesterday, reminds one of the rupture. A church that was destroyed has consciously never been rebuilt. I can still remember how that shocked me when I was a child: the walls of the church, without a roof, mourning figures.
Back to Basque country. I can see Guernika before me – it is 1937: In the museum, whose ultra modern exhibition methods are almost futuristic, I abruptly come back to the present. The glass floors of the exhibition ensure me a view of ruins, mixed with personal objects, broken dishes, shoes, books, eyeglasses. Under my feet I am able to glimpse the past. An in front of the gates of the museum, apparent harmony.
The European exchange as part of NIGEL allowed me to see some things with other eyes. The brief insight into the Spanish or Basque history made me curious, and encouraged me to view history more from a European, a more varied, perspective.
The Internet and travel offer many options for meeting (young) people from other countries. Especially young people (first impression) seem to live and even think very similarly, wear clothing from the same shops, and listen to similar music, etc. The differences, which have an effect on our lives and how each one of us perceives the world, become obvious only after we have discussed certain subjects together.
Young people seldom have contact to people from other generations and (not only) other countries, as a rule. In my opinion, the enrichment gained by meeting people from different countries and generations is a prerequisite for European learning.