Rain in Belgrade

Tačno je :)
I was in Belgrade last week and it's probably my favorite city,
even moreso than NYC for it feels less sad (I wanted to say "less foreign" but the truth is that out of all my cities NYC is the one that feels the most familiar).
I won't know for sure until I've lived there though.

1.
As soon as I got out of the train station after the 10-hour journey from Ljubljana to Belgrade, I became incapable of speaking Croatian; a few years ago I spoke both Croatian and Serbian depending on where I was and who I was talking to (language-wise I tend to adapt to my surroundings), but I often mixed them up, using Serbian words in Croatian -- a practice that isn't always welcome in Croatia. As Croatian is the language I grew up with, I always knew it better than Serbian so eventually I decided to stick to it and give up the latter. In Belgrade, however, for the first time in years speaking Croatian didn't feel natural; while I was waiting for Iva to pick me up, a girl asked me if I had a lighter and I replied "Nemam", stretching the "e" in a typical Belgrade accent even though I'd only been in town for a couple of minutes.

I found myself in-between languages, speaking imperfect Serbian with Croatian influences in a soft accent (apparently reminiscent of Zagreb, people in Serbia always think I'm from Zagreb, never Slovenia, despite the fact that nobody from Zagreb would feel the need to speak Serbian instead of Croatian) -- all that after my Croatian had finally become nearly immaculate, even "elevated" (thanks to Krleža) ... Now that I've adopted Serbian patterns and formations (again) I have no idea whether I should keep using it or switch back to Croatian; my brain is confused because all I really want is to settle for one language for once -- this perpetual state of mixing them is far from practical.


Knez Mihailova
2.
When I was waiting at the train station I watched the cars and lights and life on Nemanjina Street and it reminded me of NYC (Belgrade is the only city that reminds me of NYC), but above all it was still Belgrade and I felt like I came home. It makes so much sense for me to be in Belgrade and even though sometimes I am (was?) dying because I don't live in NYC any more, it had no effect on me whatsoever when my friend went there on the same day -- there were no nostalgia attacks which did surprise me at first but then I realized I actually had no reason for drama because I was in Belgrade and the logic of it became crystal clear.

I belong to Ljubljana because it's what I'm used to, but I belong to NYC and Belgrade because it's very easy for me to be there -- I have no trouble taking public transportation or wandering around aimlessly because I know if I get lost someone will always show me the way and I have a good grasp of how these cities work in general. Out of the two, NYC feels more familiar because everything I did there I did alone, I had to "learn everything from scratch" in order to be able to function in the new environment whereas in Belgrade it was my friends who taught me its rules and secrets which made "bonding" with it much less complicated. The reason I like Belgrade more than NYC is a certain sadness of NYC that Belgrade lacks completely -- a lot of people come there in pursuit of Something Better and many of them end up dissatisfied because things didn't turn out the way they hoped. I could sense it everywhere and it was the only thing about NYC that ever made me uncomfortable.

3.
Elfriede Jelinek on one of the most principal challenges of my life:

This is the story you tell in "The Piano Teacher", which was based on your own life. You trained as a musician and lived with your hypercritical mother in a house in Vienna.

I still live in that house, but my mother died four years ago. I used to commute back and forth between Vienna, where we lived, and Munich, where my husband lives. I still do it that way. A tale of two cities.

Why doesn't your husband move to Vienna to be with you?

Because I need to have a second home in another city. I have to be able to escape from Vienna as often as I like. That's why the home in Munich is almost more important to me than it is to my husband, who is fond of Munich because he grew up there.

I don't need a husband, but I want my life to function like this.
(a second home in Belgrade, needless to say)


4.
FOOD AND DRINK

- popara, đevrek, žu-žu (ate 100 grams of this on the way home late in the evening after seeing a play at Atelje 212 Theatre)

- the best hot chocolate ever at Ruski car -- when you order it in cafés, hot chocolate often resembles pudding more than a delicious liquid substance, but Ruski car doesn't disappoint. The café is beyond beautiful with its high ceiling, enormous chandeliers and photos of Russian emperors and Putin on walls; it's very posh and very relaxed at the same time, a completely unique atmosphere that I haven't come across anywhere else.

- pancakes at Glumac, ćevapi (sarajevski sa jogurtom) at Cica, donuts a la West at Krofna Bar

5.
A Slovenian passport is a prized commodity on the trains going south. It inspires wistful looks followed by questions such as "So you really don't need a visa for [insert country]?" as the current visa system for the holders of Serbian, Bosnian, Montenegrin etc. passports is an atrocity that should be banned by the Geneva convention (visas can be rejected without explanation, come on!); they are planning to finally abolish it by the end of this year, but with all the Balkan-European political mumbo jumbo it's hard to be sure about anything. Despite this ridiculous restriction of movement, my friends in Belgrade still manage to travel more than most people I know here. The majority of the best conversations about traveling, people, nationalities and cities I've had in my life took place in Belgrade.

6.
Belgrade vs. Ljubljana
Sunday evening in Ljubljana: empty streets, everything is closed → ghost town.
Sunday evening in Belgrade: packed cafés and restaurants, people in the streets, exhibitions open until 9PM etc. (also in case of heavy rain)

This (not to mention the many grocery and fast food stores open 24 hours a day, 7 days a week) reminded me of how much Ljubljana still has to grow as a city. I rest my case.

Belgrade is the only city I've been to where it's possible to see not one or two, but many women sporting rainboots in bad weather, mostly these pairs. I'm usually not a fan of animal prints, but they fit in Belgrade perfectly.

7.
neke stvari se jednostavno poklope
Momo Kapor, "Foliranti"

pogled na Novi Beograd sa Kališa
(gde je trenutno postavljena izložba fotografija Srbije od kojih pola izgleda kao da su snimljene u nekoj egzotičnoj zemlji, zaključak: Srbija je mnogo lepa)

čekanje kod Pravnog fakulteta zbog dolaska Medvedeva (zatvorili su ceo Bulevar kralja Aleksandra i okolinu)
Pandur: "Još desetak minuta, imajte strpljenje."
Doterana žena u 45-oj: "Jebem ti ja mater."

šetanje kraj Save kad padne mrak, predvečernji Dunav,
Ušće i Veliko ratno ostrvo

Terazije

PREVARA DECENIJE: ptica-dinosaur kod Skupštine opštine Vračar na Njegoševi sa kojom smo popričale i poklonile joj čak dve limenke kokakole u nadi da će izbaciti obećani tiket (koji sam želela da ponesem kući kao suvenir), ali na kraju ništa od toga (mora da je nestalo papira, a možda se ptica-dinosaur i nešto zainatila)

Severinin "Gade" sa kioska na Knez Mihailovoj

Đeram i Kalenić pijace

8.
The last night I kept prolonging sleep because I didn't want to stop listening to Belgrade's pulse, knowing that soon the opportunity would be gone. In a way, this was the defining moment of my entire life.