Dragi Štefe,
sve više vjerujem da causa upravlja našim životima.
Znao sam da ćeš me izgrditi što ti se nisam javio prilikom posljednjeg boravka u Sarajevu, ali nisam ni slutio da ćeš mi predložiti da se u kratkom prilogu za Oris sjetim pok. profesora Neidhardta.
U tom trenutku sam shvatio da u mom kratkom boravku u Sarajevu ništa nije bilo slučajno.
Naime, ja sam u dva dana vikenda najviše susreta imao upravo sa starim bardom arhitekture, našim Učiteljem.
I mada se bojim se da će moje sjećanje na profesora Neidhardta
biti prožeto nostalgičnim reminiscencijama na Sarajevo
naše mladosti, ispričat ću ti kako
se to dogodilo.
LISTOPAD 1965. (prolog)
Sve je započelo na Bjelavama gdje sam u brucoškoj baraci B 6/II
dobio presudne obavijesti od
starijih studenata arhitekture: “Na projektiranju (profesora Jahiela Fincija) moraš se ubaciti u grupu asistenta Ugljena, a kad na četvrtoj budeš slušao profesora Neidhardta, onda će ti biti jasno zašto si morao upasti kod Ugljena.”
LISTOPAD 2001. (vikend u Sarajevu)
Putujući od juga, nakon hercegovačke arije, promjena se počinje zapažati već na Bradini. Približavanjem Pazariću,
Hadžićima i Blažuju, zrak se počinje zgušnjavati, mirisi postaju zaobljeni i teški. Sad znam da
smo blizu. To miriše Sarajevo.
Grad je u nirvani kojom suvereno vlada oktobarski večernji sfumato
s mirisom ćumura. (Ugljen se u Sarajevu više gotovo i ne koristi,
ali moje nosnice uvjetnim
refleksom u večernjoj izmaglici
ćute njegov topli miris.)
Opet osjećam onu istu mješavinu uzbuđujućih osjećanja: radost, radoznalost, uznemirenost i iščekivanje... Šta ima u Sarajevu?
(...)

Dear Štef,
I’m starting to believe, more and more, that causa governs our lives.
I knew I’d get some of your tongue for not calling you the last time I visited Sarajevo, but who would have thought that
you would invite me to recall,
in a short piece for Oris, my
late professor Neidhardt.
At that moment, I realised that my short stay in Sarajevo had not been by chance.
In fact, most of my encounters over that weekend were with
this ancient bard of architecture, our Master.
And although I fear my memories of Professor Neidhart will abound with nostalgic reminiscences of the Sarajevo
of our youth, I will tell you how
it came about.
NOVEMBER 1965 (the prologue)
It all began in Bjelave where, as a first-year student in dormitory B 6/II, the older students of architecture gave me information that was to seal my fate: “In professor Jahiel Finci’s class Design A you have to join the group of assistant lecturer Ugljen, when you’re listening to Professor Neidhardt in your fourth year, you’ll understand why you had to attend Ugljen’s group.”
NOVEMBER 2001 (the weekend
in Sarajevo)
Travelling from the south, and after the fresh Herzegovinian air, you can already see the
change in Bradina. As we approach Pazarić, Hadžići and Blažuj, the air thickens, the smell becomes more rounded and heavy. Now I know we’re close. It’s the smell of Sarajevo.
The city is in nirvana, floating above it, sovereign in the October evening air, is the
smell of coal.
(Coal is almost no longer used
in Sarajevo, but an automatic reflex causes my to nostrils to sense its warm smell in the evening mist.)
Once again, I sense the same mixed feelings of anticipation: joy, curiosity, restlessness and expectation… What’s new in Sarajevo?
(...)