Dragi Štef,
vse bolj verjamem, da na naša življenja vpliva causa.
Vem, da se boš hudoval name, ker se ti nisem oglasil, ko sem bil nazadnje v Sarajevu, vendar nisem niti slutil, da mi boš predlagal, da
se v kratki prilogi za Oris spomnim pokojnega profesorja Neidhardta.
V tem trenutku sem spoznal, da v času mojega kratkega bivanju v Sarajevu ni bilo nič naključnega.
Saj sem se v dveh dneh vikenda največ srečeval prav s starim bardom arhitekture, našim Učiteljem.
Čeprav se bojim, da bo moj spomin na profesorja Neidharda prežet z nostalgičnimi reminiscencami na Sarajevo najine mladosti, ti bom povedal, kako se je to zgodilo.
Oktober 1965. (prolog)
Vse se je začelo na Bjelavah, kjer sem v baraki za bruce B 6/II dobil usodna navodila od starejših študentov arhitekture:" Na projektiranju profesorja Jahiela Fincija se moraš zagrebsti za skupino asistenta Ugljena, ko boš pa v četrtem letniku, ti bo jasno, zakaj si moral biti pri Ugljenu."
Oktober 2001. (vikend v Sarajevu)
Ko potuješ od juga, ko zapustiš hercegovsko arijo, se sprememba začne opažati že na Bradini. S približevanjem Pazariću, Hadžićima in Blažuju se začne zrak zgoščevati, vonjave postajajo zaobljene in težke. Sedaj vem, da smo blizu. Tako diši Sarajevo.
Mesto je v nirvani, ki jo obvladuje oktobrski večerni sfumato s vonjem premoga.
(Premog se v Sarajevu skorajda ne uporablja več, ampak moje nosnice s pogojnim refleksom v večerni meglici čutijo njegov topel vonj.)
Spet občutim tisto staro mešanico vznemirljivih občutkov: veselje, radovednost, vznemirjenje in pričakovanje … Kaj je v 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?
(...)