Slovenia and I grew up together – and I’ve seen its early dream of tolerance turn sour
One weekend in July 1993, when independent Slovenia was two years old, my father announced over breakfast: “Ana, our life will change soon”.
I immediately thought of poverty, which I was obsessed with at the time, and began listing items we could sell.
“Don’t worry”, my mother said, “we will just be hosting another family for a while”.
I was excited. With another family added to ours, I could get siblings – finally! “How many are they? Who are they?” I gleefully asked.
“Well”, my father answered, “we don’t exactly know them. We know their names – the mother is U, the father is H and their teenage daughter is M.… Seguir leyendo »