VIU_Magazine_Summer_2017

VIU.EDU
The Right Path
Finding the right path in life isn’t the
easiest thing to do. I didn’t choose
journalism, journalism chose me. I
was born in Hungary as a 7th generation
Croatian which makes me half Croatian
and half Hungarian but I am fluent in
both Hungarian and Croatian. I had
been thinking about attending university,
when I realized that getting hands-on
experience would excel my career path
more than my degree. During the Serb
and Croatian conflict in 1991, I knocked
on the door of the Hungarian National
television channel; I told them that I
am not a professional but I speak fluent
Serbian, Croatian, and Hungarian so I
can be your translator. It was a win-win
situation for everyone and I started taking
notes, observing how journalists work.
At that time, I was traveling 3 hours each
way every day to the conflict areas, which
was very boring.
“I received the highest prize for journalism,
which is called the Joseph Pulitzer Memorial
award, even though I wasn’t a journalist.”
A friend was living in the city of Osijek,
so I decided to stay there. The Hungarian
news representatives and I were supposed
to meet every day at 9 am, but one day the
region was blockaded by the Yugoslavian
National Army. There was ongoing
fighting with troops and I was trapped
in the city. I was the only foreigner there.
I called the Hungarian National TV to
get me out. However, they couldn’t help
me because of the blockade. I was the
only one who could tell the media about
the current situation from within the
blockade.
It was a fall of 1991, the phone lines were
still working and my mother called me.
She told me that she heard my voice on
the national news channel as the exclusive
correspondent for the Hungarian
National TV. She was screaming at me
to get out and come home. I told her if I
could I would! I wanted to get home.
I spent 89 days trapped in the region.
Four days after I left the city, the BBC and
the American news asked me to report
on the situation and I told them that
I didn’t speak English. I never had the
opportunity to learn English in school.
They [International News outlets] told me
that my English vocabulary of about 50
words was excellent. I remember my first
report was short: “all bloody floors- big
war big war- very dangerous- everything.”
I realized that I am the best but the worst.
I was the only one. During the conflict,
no one wanted to ask Serb or Croatian
journalists to go. I am a Hungarian
citizen and everyone within the city knew
that. So I spent 89 days in the region,
and after I was brought to the refugee
camp I was given to the Hungarian
authorities. I received the highest prize
for journalism in my country, which is
the Joseph Pulitzer Memorial Award (the
Hungarian Pulitzer), even though I wasn’t
a journalist. I was also given a scholarship
to attend a university; that’s when I
started to learn what I was supposed to
do before. Being there changed my life.
Journalism has changed my life in many
ways, but that was the first time.
My personal and professional objectives
changed 17 years ago. My faculty teacher
once mentioned to me “If you would
be a journalist- everything is allowed,
but never lie.” I have been lying for last
17 years of my life. My life completely
changed on Friday, August 11th. Sorry, I
have to back up a bit. My home country,
Hungary, we are a nation of 10 million
of people. During WWII we lost 600,000
people; they died and disappeared in
the Soviet Union and at Auschwitz. It
was a common fact that after V-day
soldiers, POW’s came back to Hungary
from labor camps in Gulag in 1946-1948
and one person returned in 1968. That
means for years after the end of WWII,
we received information that there is,
perhaps, a POW in a mental hospital in
Tatarstan, Russia. I knew if I said that
I am a journalist, they would not allow
me to take a video that would embarrass
them- the fact that no one ever asked this
gentleman where he is from; just said
he was a mentally ill person. So I tried
to figure out who was traveling to this
region. Which ended up being no one but
bear hunters. We filled out documents
for myself and my cameramen to be bear
hunters in the spring of 2000; we went
to the city of Kotelnich which is on the
border of Tatarstan, part of the former
Soviet Union and we paid $800 to go into
the area to report to meet this old person.
We found him and figured out he was a
Hungarian because he spoke Hungarian
fluently. He never told anyone his name. I
was involved in his rehabilitation process
because 55 years after he left Hungary, I
was the first person who talked to him
Summer 2017 University Magazine, VIU
17