Manhattan Meadows

What to do if you are a pair of Serbs in New York on potentially the greatest day in your country's tennis history? Tickets for the US open are either too expensive, unavailable, or both, especially on the day of the finals, but you can go to Madison Square Park and watch the match in a relaxed picnic atmosphere.
Hey, it's a meadow, not one of those in Flushing, but Manhattan is not that bad either.
So we packed up a big towel, some sandwiches and fruit, and got there an hour early to find a nice spot on the grass, with some shade from the hot September sun. After quite a bit annoying brainwashing from corporate sponsors, the match started and the crowd cheered as if we were in the stadium on the other side of the screen and the players could actually hear us. It was a lot of fun. Although Federer did eventually, and deservedly, win, Novak recovered well from all the blunders and was obviously the favourite of the crowd in the park. It seems quite likely we may be seeing a rematch next year, but with a different outcome.
We should try and get tickets on time.

The Incredible See-Saw

No more stealing the neighbors' cable when they are away. Finally in our own apartment and with our own connection to the internet for my official 100th post.
As the furniture, and plates and flowers are slowly coming in and our new home is beginning to take shape, we are at the absolute peak of a constantly fluctuating curve that has been our stay here so far.
Only two weeks earlier, homeless and jobless and with our budget melting away more rapidly than anticipated we just cracked. It's terrible to feel like an outsider it's humiliating that all your life savings from years of working hard somewere now very far away amount to so little.It's hard to be cut of from everyone you know.
Fortunately not everyone - we have each other.
I am scared even to think of how I could cope with this alone. When I fell down Ivan was there to help me up and comfort me. And then the next day it would be his turn to get depressed and I'd be there with the voice of reason urging for patience and not loosing focus and hard work. And this incredible see-saw of emotions seems to have worked. Falling and getting up, we pulled and pushed each other through what I hope was the worst of the crisis. In a month we have accomplished a lot. May not sound so much but it was hard getting here. A new country, a new home, a new job, a new school. By no means is it going to get easy any time soon, but I know we're going to be alright.

New Beginning

I picked up our clothes at the laundromat, a concept that baffles and amuses my Serbian mind, bought some touch too greasy chineese food and came home. I sat down to eat at our new laptop, cheked my e-mail for news from back home or potential employers and looked out the wet window onto the misty Manhattan skyline in the distance. I realized that despite of our temporarry accomodation and current lack of income I now feel sufficiently at home to have a quiet moment and start writing again. In the next few days I'll post a couple of short texts about the last two weeks in New York, our impressions of the city from a new perspective, about the food, about the people, a short trip to Boston and the seemingly impossible quest to find a decent cheap apartment.
After that we will resume regular blogging.
If anyone is still reading, thanks for your patience.

Absence

The day I went to pick up my visa was the hottest in recorded meteorological history of Serbia. As I stepped off the sidewalk onto one of the busiest streets in Belgrade a gust of thick hot wind hit my body and I realized looking up the empty street that the city was deserted.
Absence seems to be my key word of this summer. The empty streets, a summer full of events which I missed because I was busy, the absent friends that I didn’t get to properly say goodbye to. I’ve been absent from this blog for a while, because I couldn’t find the time to write and I’ve been generally absent-minded for months, finding it difficult to do any work because I knew I was leaving, and as difficult to prepare for leaving, because I wasn’t sure it was really going to happen until the last minute.
Well, I am leaving. We’re leaving. Tomorrow morning Ivan and I will be on our way to New York. We have done so much and there are still so many unknowns. I don’t know how I feel. Everybody around me keeps crying. We’ll be back next summer for a few weeks. I know this is what we wanted and I am happy, but I’ve never been away from everything I know. So far away. For so long.
I ‘m going to stop now before I start to cry.

Bureaudyssey Continues

Do not rejoice prematurely when dealing with paperwork and office clerks. It’s never over. No singing fat ladies in sight.
It turns out I still have far more to do then I thought and far less time to do it. My nerves at a breaking point, I spend hours every week on the phone with oblivious student advisors and admissions officers in New York trying to track down documents which should have been mailed to me weeks ago. I’m trying to be understanding about the fact that, living in the normal world, some people do not understand the concept of visas or even the fact that there are places on the planet for which you have to dial the international access code, but I am becoming extremely frustrated with the fact that my potential failure to go to the US can only be a result of postal delays and confused administrative staff.
But I won’t let this break me. When the going gets tough, the tough make an extremely detailed list of questions and designate a whole afternoon for international phone calls to set things straight. Today is that day.

Bureaudyssey 2007

Deadlines have came and gone, but my bureaucratic adventures continue. Slowly, results of my arduous work are becoming visible and the road to New York, though paved with paperwork, is starting to open up.

The big break that brought me back from the brink of a nervous break down came recently when instead of the usual “Your application is being processed, please allow up to 6/ 10/ 743 weeks for more information” the kind voice of the automated answering machine told me “You have been accepted… Please allow even more weeks for bla bla...” OK, OK, but I got in! Basically, I will be going back to school. Something I wanted to do for a while, but now have the opportunity and good reasons to do.

Previously, I collected the necessary paperwork; I prepared official translations and certified copies. I had to plead for additional stamps on my documents to the woman from my former high-school who passionately explained how what is being asked of me is another proof of American imperialism imposing its rules and regulations on the rest of the world. I waited for hours in front of an office at my old university, while the lady at the desk looked absently through me while chatting about her grandchildren on the phone. Eventually, when she decided to start working, she finished what I needed in a matter of minutes. I desperately went form bank to bank in an attempt to find a way to send a check from Serbia, which in order to prevent money leaving the country is generally not allowed. I managed to avoid filling out internet forms which do not allow my international phone number to be entered due to a surplus of digits. I am still waiting to provide financial guaranties and fill out visa forms and provide documents testifying that I am neither terrorist nor criminal, sick or poor. Hopefully then I will be able to delve into the really amusing aspects of bureaucracy or how to open a bank account or get a cell phone in the US. Weeee.

I’ve also learned something. I’m no longer setting deadlines.
All I know is that autumn in New York seems increasingly real.

Be Nice

There’s an old woman I see from time to time as I walk home along King Alexander Boulevard. I don’t know whether she’s homeless but she does beg for money.
Probably about three months ago, I was walking into a supermarket. She stood outside the store and asked if I could get her a packet of Smoki (peanut snacks). I have to admit that I don’t fall for sad stories and rarely give people money but I couldn’t refuse such a genuine request? I bought one and handed it to the woman who shook my hand, thanked her heart out and in a couple of sentences told me her family history. She called me a knight. I went on with my business, and never gave it another thought.
Yesterday, as I was again walking home from work, I ran into the same woman. I was about to pass her by, but she was delighted to see me – she didn’t ask for anything, just shook my hand again, said I was still her knight. Three months later. For a small bag of salty snacks.
I was deeply moved. Something I did without thinking or acknowledging it, meant so much to someone I do not even know. I was amazed at how even our smallest actions can make a difference for someone.
The smallest act of kindness can really make someone’s day, so be nice to people.

Will & Grace

Will and Grace are over. A year late, the last episode was finally aired in Serbia this week.
I loved this show. I remember watching the first episode years ago on Studio B, thinking: wait, did I get this right? I remember so many subsequent episodes that I watched while on the phone with my own red-haired best friend. It somehow marked a very important time for me and become a significant part of my life. It was fun to identify and reluctantly laugh at our sitcom characteristics - from her talent to find crazy men to my obsession with gift-wrapping.
Towards the end I do feel the show lost some of its appeal. There was a period when it wasn’t all that funny any more, and the small quirks that made the characters real and likeably neurotic turned into rather annoying caricatures.
I got quite upset after the last episode. I found it depressing. It’s as if they decided to kill off the characters by robbing them of some 20 years of their lives. Bit too harsh and concrete for my taste. It would have been far better to give some hints and leave endings open so everyone could have their own ideas, and hope.
I don’t think it’s good to know how things end in the long run.
My own Will and Grace friendship has been suffering from lack of time and incompatible schedules, but I’m hoping it won’t take a few decades and a couple of kids to get back on track.

Good Riddance

After nine months, the “army” is finally over and I’m no longer indebted to my country for all the joy and happiness it has provided over the years. I admit I was lucky and the whole experience was not too disruptive of my life, but I still believe it is a disgraceful and hypocritical favor to ask of the men in Serbia.

Flags

This is what I call good PR. The government of Kosovo has announced a competition for new state symbols. The underlying context is: breaking away from the past, a new country - new symbols. I’m sorry Serbia missed such an opportunity recently and opted for its dated crowned emblems.
Whatever the future of Kosovo may be, and I’m not too optimistic about its democratic and multiethnic capacity, I found this task quite inspirational.
Where to start?
The territory’s past and present are dominated by two nations – the Albanians and the Serbs, so their existing symbols are a logical starting point for new ones.
What do they have in common?
In terms of color, the mutual element is red, but I’ve deliberately left it out as it is too aggressive. The Albanian flag though very iconic and powerful is a bit too scary for my taste. And then we have the two-headed eagle. Both nations have one, although they are complete opposites – one is white, the other is black. Now the two-headed eagle itself is a strange animal. It looks quite hostile but also a bit schizophrenic and seems in conflict with itself.

I started with an image of a dignified and peaceful eagle and decided to use the traditional two heads – one black and one white, but this time they are both facing in the same direction – symbolically looking into the future. Then I added another color – blue, which represents peace. It is also the color of international cooperation, of Europe, and in that sense the future of the region.
Combining these elements in form of a slightly twisted tricolor flag creates a simple yet recognizable design – based on traditional and historic elements, but yet distinct enough to be acceptable for all.
And I stress, these are just symbols. Whether what they stand for can really become reality is a completely different matter. What do you think?

Serbian Open

It’s a funny sight. Wherever you go people watch or talk about tennis. Unable to watch the games at work, some of my colleagues watch the constantly updating scoreboard at the Roland Garros website and get as excited as if they were looking at the real thing.
With 3 players now in the semifinals of the French Open and another in both the men’s and mixed doubles semis, Serbia seems to have suddenly risen to incredible heights in a sport where previously it was almost invisible. Personally, I would love Novak to win and Jelena to beat Ana in the final but regardless of whether any of them go through to the next round or the title, it’s an amazing success.
So how did this happen? Does it have something to do with enriched uranium or kryptonite that gave rise to some strange new generations? And how did we switch from our traditional team sports, like basketball or water-polo to tennis? I have no idea.
The important thing is that we have some new young, likeable and very positive role models; that people have something good to celebrate. If tennis is the number one topic in Serbia then it is certainly a wonderful step forward.

Ten Years Later

I can’t believe it’s been a whole decade since the ridiculous night at the Intercontinental, the bad suits, worse dresses, and terrible hair-styles. When I get home I have to dig out that photo album (back than photos were still made of paper) and look at my high-school graduation pictures. Maybe brush up on some names…
I haven’t really stayed in touch. Much. Belgrade must really be big, since there are many people I haven’t seen once since 1997. Some I see from time to time, and usually it’s work related. But we did have a fun four years together.
A class friend called me to say that a get-together is planned in a few days. Symbolically we agreed to meet in front of KST and go there together. I’m guessing it will be the same small groups of people – the same seating arrangements. The window crew, the wall crew… Only we’re all a little older. There’ll be a lot of gossip, I’m sure. It’s a chance to see who’s gotten fat, who’s balding, who’s pregnant and with which child. Fortunately, I’m not in any of these categories so I can breathe a little easier. If only I can think of what to wear.

Home, Sweet Home

Enough of writing on other people’s blogs! I have my own, thank you very much. I barely manage to post here from time to time but sometimes I just can’t keep my mouth shut. There was a well-intentioned post on homophobia over at Belgrade 2.0 which turned into a rather nasty debate…
Why is it even called phobia? Is it fear? It’s downright hatred and rage. Shouldn’t it be "misohomy" or something?

GUILTY

Without getting into an analysis of the Serbian judicial system and whether it is enough or not, I’m glad they got the maximum possible sentence.
I just hope that by the time these senior assassins leave jail in 40 years, Serbia will have made up for what was lost on March 12th 2003.
I also hope that, in coming years, there will be more evidence and more trials in this case. Those in anyway involved in his murder must never again be allowed anywhere near Djindjic’s hard-earned position.

Comic Books and Film

Spiderman 3 is a terrible film. It is long, boring and idiotic. I love comic books and I get quite excited about any film based on comics, so this was quite a disappointment. I haven’t really read much of Marvel, though. Personally, I always preferred the Franco-Belgian school. In fact the only reason for my first visit to Brussels, on a day trip from Holland, apart from trying the waffles and buying some Godiva, was to visit the comic book museum. Two years ago when Ivan and I went there again, it was actually the only museum we visited.
And yesterday the world marked one hundred years since the birth of Hergé with events, stamps and coins celebrating his famous creation - Tintin, one of my favourite childhood heros. In our house comic books were treated with respect and my sister and I were actually encouraged to read them as my father has an enormous collection spanning all the way into the sixties. When I was little, I was secretly hoping someone would discover me and call me to play Tintin, or perhaps, Spirou in a film. I think that hair style would look really good on me. So, I’m ready for my close-up, Mr. Spielberg.

My Own Private Idaho

With all the Eurovision euphoria these days I almost forgot about our parliamentary circus. After much ado about nothing and pressure from everyone from the EU to the Eurosong winner, the MPs finally voted in our new government, a “democratic one”, none the less.
But let’s not get over-excited. This coalition, though it was inevitable, is based on deep mistrust and completely irreconcilable program differences. The idea of mutual control is not bad, but I’m afraid all we’ve got is a government which is ineffective and cannot agree on any important issue.
Then there are issues which are “not important”…
Today is the International Day Against HOmophobia. Human rights, in any form, are not a priority of this government. Today also happens to be my birthday. You could say, it was meant to be. Happy Birthday to Me! Happy IDAHO, all.

King of Chandeliers

Belgrade Design Week 2007 ended on Saturday. Similar to last year it was a series of lectures on all things design – from architecture to digital effects. It was interesting, educational and inspirational.
As a big fan of architecture, it was a real treat to listen to Rem Koolhaas, Ora Ito was a lot of fun, Mirko Ilic gave a very good lecture, although he is, in my view, very unlikable. I was particularly happy to listen to one of my favorite design collectives – Droog Design, as I’ve been a fan for quite a while.

But probably more than anything, I’m glad BDW made it possible to visit one of my favorite buildings in Belgrade, otherwise closed to the public – the Federation Palace.

With its enormous size, over the top simplicity and amazing artwork it is an actual palace build in the social-realism style of the fifties and sixties.

The most impressive is the great hall with its colossal sun-shaped chandelier which looks like an early influence for the dome of the Sony Center at Berlin’s Potsdamer Platz.

Wouldn’t mind having one in my room.

Wouldn’t mind having a big enough room, for that matter.

Would mind having their electricity bill, though.

Belgrade 2008 Eurovision Song Contest!!!

We jumped and screamed last night as votes were coming in. A tense standoff reminiscent of 2004 between rising Eurovision superpowers Ukraine and Serbia, this time ended favorably for us. Marija won! I am sorry for Verka, but ultimately I decided to play it safe and vote for my other favorite – Slovenia just in case.

I spend the whole day at Belgrade Design Week (more of that tomorrow) listening to interesting lectures and hoping that rumors of surprise guest Brad Pitt, would be false. Fortunately, it was all a publicity stunt. Otherwise I would have been seriously tempted to miss the contest and go the BDW after-party.

I’m very happy Belgrade will get to host Eurovision which is, in my view, the ultimate and most amusing pop spectacle. Yes it’s trashy and camp, but that’s what makes it so good to watch. Plus it’s not bad for the local economy or the gay community.

So, as we are devising plans how to manage to come back from New York next May to see the spectacle live in Belgrade Arena, I have to mention three things which kind of spoil the fun for me:

“Political voting”
Immediately after the show we switched to BBC where there was again talk of political voting in the contest. Although voting certainly is predictable I think it’s just a bad case of sour grapes. If anything, much of the voting is a triumph over politics. We have to remember that many of these “block” countries are not on perfect terms with each other and some have even gone through conflicts.
Voting is just a result of similar languages and sensibilities and it’s a positive sign. Yes, in this sense, some eastern countries do have an advantage, but it is not enough, unless you can also draw votes from the west.
The whole story kind of reminds of something Rem Koolhaas said at his lecture yesterday, speaking of the West’s attitude towards architecture in Russia, China and Arab countries. He spoke of latent racism or at least latent feeling of superiority, in not being able to accept that the world is changing and shifting focus. So, if the UK wants to fair better next time maybe they should just send something less teletubbiesque and maybe they’ll get some votes. Who knows, if Scotland secedes in a few years maybe England will finally get some “political” votes.

Nationalism
We took a walk to Republic Square to see the spontaneous outpouring of public joy. There was quite a crowd, and it was mostly benign, but naturally there were also significant numbers of football-fan-like types chanting the usual nationalistic slogans along with Marija’s name. These are the same people who would probably beat her up in the street if they suspected she was a Gypsy or if it turned out she actually was gay.

Snobbism
We ran into some friends who were actually angry that we won and that people were rejoicing because Eurovision “lacks quality”. I tried in vain to explain that whether you like it or not it is at least good PR, free advertising and a great opportunity for tourism in Serbia and Belgrade. Some people should just relax and not take everything too seriously.

Eurovision 2007, Semifinals

Today, I’ll steer away from dark topics. It seems the rise of fascism in Parliament did not have such a profound effect on the Serbian economy as I was kept late at work by a foreign client. I did miss all but one lecture on the first day of the Belgrade Design Week conference, but I did somehow manage to get home for the Eurosong semifinals.
Marija was great. Not just because she’s… one of us, but the understated dramatics made this, in my view, one of the best performances in recent years. She and her sophisticated lesbian sisterhood were far better that any of the other semifinalists.
Some surprises in the pick for the finals, though. I’m glad the entranced Slovenian opera singer went through. I’m sorry my vote went to waste, as not too dramatic Drama Queen failed to reach the finals. The song was much better live. I also liked the Dutch and the Albanians, but none of them made it through.
Can’t wait for the finals! I really hoped Ukraine would win, but now that I saw Marija’s performance and I think we actually have a chance to win… It would be great to have the contest in Belgrade in 2008, even if I won’t be here to see it live. At least I hope I’ll be able to see the whole of the final night, and still get to the BDW closing party in time to get my picture taken with the “mystery” guest.

Cabaret

Monday evening was very interesting. Two very important and very different events took place in the center of Belgrade not far from each other.
In the glitzy art-deco interior of Belgrade’s only specialized musical and comedy theater on Terazije, the deputy mayor, opening the second edition of Belgrade Design Week, didn’t fail to mention the city’s title as the south-east European city of the future. Then we saw a film about last year’s design week, and visionary and inspirational people from all over the world who gathered in Serbia and spoke of creating a better world.
Right around the corner, in the Parliament, the picture was a bit more bleak. The future did not seam as bright. In fact, it looked very much like our unattractive past. Despite that, the MPs acted as if they were entertainers –stand up comedians trying to think of the funniest reply so that the whole chamber would burst into laughter, while the country slowly sinks into fascism.
If anything good came out of yesterday’s election of our new radical parliament speaker, it is that things are finally clear. Dss can no longer pretend to be a reformist pro-european party and DS has no more excuses to be lazy. Sadly, this clarity only makes us see that we have many more lost years ahead of us.One of the senior radicals said: the future belongs to us. And there’s a lovely musical called Cabaret, with a catchy song called “Tomorrow belongs to me”. Unfortunately not enough people remember what happened “tomorrow”.