This evening I was told I would be joining several of the activists in attending an important dinner. I was told I needed to put on something more "elegant". It was not mentioned when exactly we would be leaving for this dinner, so I chose to immediately rifle through my bags in an attempt to find something that was both elegant and clean. It was a good thing I chose to immediately begin the search since by it took me about ten minutes to produce enough elegant, fresh-smelling items to create an outfit; this left me ten minutes to get dressed (Although I was unaware that we would be leaving so quickly after I reemerged since I was unaware of a departure time.).
So at this point you may be asking yourself, what was this important dinner? Believe me, I was wondering as well. When I arrived I was finally informed it was actually a 15th anniversary celebration for Humanitarian Law Center, a NGO in Belgrade. Not a dinner. It was more like a cocktail party (but not quite so dressy) in that there were drinks (a variety of unknown alcoholic beverages, water, wine, and orange juice), various finger foods (pickles wrapped in beef, cheeses, nuts, olives, beef and cheese spread cubes, bread, miniature fruit tarts, and various small candies). The servers walked around with the trays held high in the air and people would grab things off of the trays as they pleased. Unfortunately, I was seated at a u-shaped table deeply hindering my ability to grab things as I pleased. Every once in a while a server would stop at our table and let the tray briefly linger so we could quickly grab what we wished. However, mainly I just watched as the servers whisked by with various trays of unknown, appetizing delicacies.
As we sat in at our u-shaped booth, several speeches were made by founding members of the organization as well as by more current workers. They spoke about the early days of the organization and the obstacles they encountered as they tried to fulfill their mission. The organization was started by a woman (who recruited others to join her in her efforts) to document the war crimes. She (and the other members of the organization) spoke to refugees, victims, and witnesses in an effort to record their stories. According to my sources (aka the English speaking activists at WiB), she is a very publicly hated by the majority of Serbia. Her calls for the war criminals to be delivered to the Hague and for persons to be punished for the war crimes is very unpopular among the common Serbian (since the war criminals are still viewed by many here as national heroes). Of course, all of the speeches made throughout the evening were made in Serbian. My sources told me I was not missing much since they were basically anecdotes of the beginning years, depressing tales of their work, and speeches praising the founder and other workers. About twenty minutes into the speeches, I was given a headset (to listen to the English translation of the speeches). After listening for the first ten minutes, I agreed with the earlier assessment of the speeches (although there were a few speeches that were interesting -- mainly those who chose to actually talk about their experiences and the work rather than praising other members of the organization or saying how tired they were when they actively working to document the crimes). Any desire to listen to the speeches (particularly the interesting ones) was blocked by the nuisance of having the headset consistently malfunction. The headset would be working for a minute and I would be able to hear the translation perfectly and then all of a sudden it would break to start again ten seconds later (meaning I missed important elements of the speech making it much harder to follow the narrative of the story). This continued for about fifteen minutes until the headset quit working altogether.
It was interesting to note that for all of my good intentions of listening to the speeches (via the headset) there were many others present who did not even pretend to make an effort at listening. Instead almost everyone was carrying on conversations; many people were standing (There weren't enough seats for everyone and like most cocktail parties a huge part of the party is the mingling.) and walking around and stopping to talk to whomever they wished for however long they desired.
So instead of listening to the speeches, a few of my WiB colleagues would point out various people and the crowd and explain who they were: a famous journalist who has had several assassination attempts on his life; the owners and founders of B92 (a famous radio station that was openly critical of Milosevic and now is also a television station); a famous activist who's activist husband was assassinated while she was sitting right next to him; someone very involved in the war crime tribunals; an American ambassador (who had his own security escort, which was really odd since nobody else had one); directors of various NGOs in Belgrade; etc.
The best part of this celebration was that when I left the event I received free gifts (as a poor volunteer I love free stuff). Each person was given a handbag, a mug, and a notebook (all with the organization's 15th anniversary logo plastered on the front). I was keenly disappointed to be given a bright orange handbag when dark green and red were also being handed out. However, since it was free and I am such a great person, I decided not to complain. It had nothing to do with the fact that I can't even speak enough Serbian to order a simple sandwich making communicating that I want a different color handbag a hopeless matter.
So, I walked away from the event with a bright orange handbag and an empty stomach. As I walked out of the building (which unfortunately I must admit took me two elevator rides, and one walk down the stairs, to figure out where the exit was located), I realized that I did not know the exact way back to the office. I knew that I was somewhere between the WiB office and my language school since we had mainly taken the same route I take to class (with only one turn off-course). After quickly figuring how to get back, I decided the best course of action was to find myself a croissant for dinner. After all, a girl's gotta eat.
Wednesday, December 5, 2007
Tuesday, December 4, 2007
A brief update
The hunt is over. I have now found an apartment. I hope to move into the apartment on Thursday or Friday. It's not perfect, but it's home.
In other news, we had a woman from Russia join our Serbian language class. She just started (and we are in our fourth week) and she is better than all of us combined. Apparently, Serbian and Russian are very similiar. Only Russian has 6 cases instead of 7 cases. Making Russia look like a very good place to live right about now.
However, in order to keep up with the Russian (ok, impossible task -- I'm aiming for having some clue as to what her and the professor are talking about) I now am trying to spend even more time studying for class meaning that's all she wrote (for now).
P.S.
I might add that it is very difficult to study Serbian when there is a massive choir practice going on in the next room. On Sunday evening, as I was trying to have an intensive study session I was assailed by the sounds of ten to fifteen voices raised in a joyful song. Of course, I have no idea what they are actually saying (which might be a hint as to how badly I need to be studying), but it sounded great. In fact, one of the songs they practiced was actually two or three words said over and over. Someone kindly handed me a copy of the lyrics (they were in Cyrillic), but it is very unhelpful to have the lyrics (even if I can now read them in the Cyrillic alphabet) if you have no idea what the actual words mean. They are practicing for the December 10th (Human Rights Day) performance; they will be peforming as a portion of the various street actions WiB is organizing for the day. There were also two teenage girls at the office painting large signs to be used on December 10th (They returned this evening just as I was pulling out my books for another study session). So admist the hum of activity in the office, there I was sitting with my notes and my schoolbook trying to memorize the new vocabulary words and understand new grammatical concepts. Interestingly enough, some people did not get the hint that I don't speak or understand Serbian even though I had a large book in front of me that said Serbian for Foreigners posted boldly on the front (in both Serbian and English). I still got asked several questions at which at first I blankly stared at them and then realized I needed to seize this moment to practice. So, I pulled out the ever handy phrase, "Ne govorim srpski" (I don't speak Serbian). Unfortunately, this phrase was from five lessons ago and not the new vocabulary I was having trouble committing to memory. Oh well...I mean, what better excuse for not studying can a girl come up with in class other than, "I was just so caught up in appreciating the rich, beautiful music of Serbia to study."
In other news, we had a woman from Russia join our Serbian language class. She just started (and we are in our fourth week) and she is better than all of us combined. Apparently, Serbian and Russian are very similiar. Only Russian has 6 cases instead of 7 cases. Making Russia look like a very good place to live right about now.
However, in order to keep up with the Russian (ok, impossible task -- I'm aiming for having some clue as to what her and the professor are talking about) I now am trying to spend even more time studying for class meaning that's all she wrote (for now).
P.S.
I might add that it is very difficult to study Serbian when there is a massive choir practice going on in the next room. On Sunday evening, as I was trying to have an intensive study session I was assailed by the sounds of ten to fifteen voices raised in a joyful song. Of course, I have no idea what they are actually saying (which might be a hint as to how badly I need to be studying), but it sounded great. In fact, one of the songs they practiced was actually two or three words said over and over. Someone kindly handed me a copy of the lyrics (they were in Cyrillic), but it is very unhelpful to have the lyrics (even if I can now read them in the Cyrillic alphabet) if you have no idea what the actual words mean. They are practicing for the December 10th (Human Rights Day) performance; they will be peforming as a portion of the various street actions WiB is organizing for the day. There were also two teenage girls at the office painting large signs to be used on December 10th (They returned this evening just as I was pulling out my books for another study session). So admist the hum of activity in the office, there I was sitting with my notes and my schoolbook trying to memorize the new vocabulary words and understand new grammatical concepts. Interestingly enough, some people did not get the hint that I don't speak or understand Serbian even though I had a large book in front of me that said Serbian for Foreigners posted boldly on the front (in both Serbian and English). I still got asked several questions at which at first I blankly stared at them and then realized I needed to seize this moment to practice. So, I pulled out the ever handy phrase, "Ne govorim srpski" (I don't speak Serbian). Unfortunately, this phrase was from five lessons ago and not the new vocabulary I was having trouble committing to memory. Oh well...I mean, what better excuse for not studying can a girl come up with in class other than, "I was just so caught up in appreciating the rich, beautiful music of Serbia to study."
Thursday, November 29, 2007
And now for your inter-class entertainment we present....
My language school, The Institute for Foreign Languages Belgrade (or ИНСТИТУТ ЗА СТРАНЕ ЈЕЗИΚΕ БЕОГРАД in Serbian) not only offers language courses, but also has a cafe. It is really just a small kitchen and the main lobby, but they offer cappuccino, coffee, orange juice, and eleven different varieties of tea. And they offer these beverages at an incredibly low rate. It's so cheap that I'm unsure if they make a profit. I can get a glass of steaming tea for 10 dinara (about twenty US cents). Most of the students buy a beverage both before the first class and during the ten minute break between the two classes (We have two forty-five minute class sessions a day with a ten minute break in between them).
Yesterday's ten minute break saw an expansion of the services offered by the institute for our educational enjoyment. They offered some short films to watch as we sipped on our steaming beverages between class sessions. The short films were brought in by a student to be shared. However, this was not just any student. It was Luka.
Luka came into our class at the end of last week about fifteen minutes late. He was escorted in by an administrative personnel. It was a good thing the woman was able to escort him since he almost fell over twice upon entering the classroom. He finally made it to a seat (without incident) and sat down struggling to catch his breath. Fortunately for us, he did not stay long. He was deemed to be too advanced for our class. He was obviously drugged and was still too advanced for our class. Talk about a blow to the self-esteem.
Apparently, Luka had recently had an operation on his throat. My understanding of the situation is limited. It is unclear to me whether or not he is needing to relearn how to pronounce words and to speak properly, or if he is learning Serbian for the first time. Whatever the reason, we were all very glad he didn't stay in the class. It was very difficult for all of to hold our good-natured chuckles until he left the room. A glazed-eyed, stoned language student is very amusing. Even if you don't understand what he is saying.
Later that same day (during the intermission between classes) Luka started a conversation with me. He had lived in the United States for seven years and wanted to know where I was from. It was just as funny to interact with him in English as it was in Serbian. After that initial conversation, I made sure to avoid him in the lobby, halls, and the stairway.
Avoidance only works for so long. Especially if your professors insist on everyone sitting down and watching the short films of the person you are trying to avoid. We watched two of Luka's movies. The first was a claymation (in the style of Wallace and Gromit) autobiography of Luka's life. It consisted of him walking in a park, showing up at his sister's apartment to find his sister and her boyfriend kissing ("They were very much in love. Luka was lonely."), going to his other sister's apartment and seeing how in love she was with her husband ("They were very much in love. Luka was lonely."), finding a girlfriend (Michelle), Luka being excited to be able to introduce his girlfriend to his sisters' and their prospective men, and Michelle breaking up with Luka because he told her she needed to lose weight ("Have you ever thought of losing some weight? It seems like it would be a very good idea."). The story ended with claymation Luka being lonely again. I must say the claymation was actually very good, but the script (which was posted on a black screen in between the short scenes of the claymation figures walking and kissing) was not Academy Award winning.
The second short film was titled, "Even the gods get bored". It was not claymation, but had "real" actors. It consisted of a man dressed up a superhero outfit on a chair saying, "It's a good thing there are call girls. " Then a girl ringing the doorbell and showing up in a skimpy Wonder Woman outfit and doing a pole dance. The first character then said, "Are you sure Superman won't mind?" Wonder Woman answered, "Oh, he's out of the picture. The only person we have to worry about is...." Then their was a big boom at the door. The screen went black.
It was a mild form of torture to sit through these films and try not to laugh. Let's just suffice it to say that I avoided the lobby during the break today in an effort to avoid being forced to watch another Luka production.
Yesterday's ten minute break saw an expansion of the services offered by the institute for our educational enjoyment. They offered some short films to watch as we sipped on our steaming beverages between class sessions. The short films were brought in by a student to be shared. However, this was not just any student. It was Luka.
Luka came into our class at the end of last week about fifteen minutes late. He was escorted in by an administrative personnel. It was a good thing the woman was able to escort him since he almost fell over twice upon entering the classroom. He finally made it to a seat (without incident) and sat down struggling to catch his breath. Fortunately for us, he did not stay long. He was deemed to be too advanced for our class. He was obviously drugged and was still too advanced for our class. Talk about a blow to the self-esteem.
Apparently, Luka had recently had an operation on his throat. My understanding of the situation is limited. It is unclear to me whether or not he is needing to relearn how to pronounce words and to speak properly, or if he is learning Serbian for the first time. Whatever the reason, we were all very glad he didn't stay in the class. It was very difficult for all of to hold our good-natured chuckles until he left the room. A glazed-eyed, stoned language student is very amusing. Even if you don't understand what he is saying.
Later that same day (during the intermission between classes) Luka started a conversation with me. He had lived in the United States for seven years and wanted to know where I was from. It was just as funny to interact with him in English as it was in Serbian. After that initial conversation, I made sure to avoid him in the lobby, halls, and the stairway.
Avoidance only works for so long. Especially if your professors insist on everyone sitting down and watching the short films of the person you are trying to avoid. We watched two of Luka's movies. The first was a claymation (in the style of Wallace and Gromit) autobiography of Luka's life. It consisted of him walking in a park, showing up at his sister's apartment to find his sister and her boyfriend kissing ("They were very much in love. Luka was lonely."), going to his other sister's apartment and seeing how in love she was with her husband ("They were very much in love. Luka was lonely."), finding a girlfriend (Michelle), Luka being excited to be able to introduce his girlfriend to his sisters' and their prospective men, and Michelle breaking up with Luka because he told her she needed to lose weight ("Have you ever thought of losing some weight? It seems like it would be a very good idea."). The story ended with claymation Luka being lonely again. I must say the claymation was actually very good, but the script (which was posted on a black screen in between the short scenes of the claymation figures walking and kissing) was not Academy Award winning.
The second short film was titled, "Even the gods get bored". It was not claymation, but had "real" actors. It consisted of a man dressed up a superhero outfit on a chair saying, "It's a good thing there are call girls. " Then a girl ringing the doorbell and showing up in a skimpy Wonder Woman outfit and doing a pole dance. The first character then said, "Are you sure Superman won't mind?" Wonder Woman answered, "Oh, he's out of the picture. The only person we have to worry about is...." Then their was a big boom at the door. The screen went black.
It was a mild form of torture to sit through these films and try not to laugh. Let's just suffice it to say that I avoided the lobby during the break today in an effort to avoid being forced to watch another Luka production.
Friday, November 23, 2007
Fashion, Food, and Apartment Hunting
fashion
Rachel warned me that people here wear the weirdest outfits and I would see some interesting outfits. When I told her that she was overreacting and that so far everyone seemed to dress fairly normal (with a few outlier), her reply was wait until the weather is warmer. I guess there is not much you can mess up when it comes to wearing a winter coat, boots, and other winter wear. Rachel told me her favorite (aka the most outrageous) Belgrade fashion was a woman she saw wearing the boxer-short underwear as shorts with a camisole walking the busy streets of Belgrade. Oh yes, and the woman was wearing high heels (Although, what shoes would look good with that outfit?)
Well, today I had my first encounter with the "true" fashion sense of Belgrade. Today was a warm day, especially considering we just had several days of snow. As I was making my way to class, I saw a woman wearing black pantyhose with black shorts, a black shirt, a long, black wool dress coat, and metallic silver cowboy boots. Let me just say, this combination is not attractive. Most of the elements are fine by themselves (Well, I'm not sure where anyone would wear the metallic silver cowboy boots and be fashionable), but when mixed together...well it was a fashion faux pas. I've decided when warmer weather comes around I will need to carry my camera around with me at all times so I can add a fashion do and a fashion don't section to my blog.
food
I went to a delicious little pub (restaurant) with Kristin (the BVS director) the other night. It was traditional Balkan food. The name of the restaurant was ? The food we ended up getting was very tasty, but there were definitely some options on the menu that made my stomach churn. They had translated the menu into English, but they obviously did it without anyone advising them on how to make the dishes sound more appetizing. Some of the translations included: a young male bull's sex organs, bowels, and some other animal organ dish (I believe it was liver). I did not want to eat any meat entrees that evening after reading the menu. I had a delicious Serbian salad with cheese and bread with cheese (which was the equivalent of square cheese sticks). I also had an excellent dessert, tufahije. It is an apple stuffed with walnuts and baked until it is very soft and juicy. It is then topped with whipped cream. It was delicious.
I'm still looking for a place to live. I have several people at the office who are helping me search. Today I sat with someone at the office and we called several of the places listed in the housing/apartment ads. Most of the places listed could only be contacted through the use of an agency (which costs a lot of money). There was one owner who actually was renting without the use of an agency, but she did not want to rent to an American.
apartment hunting
For now, I am still living at the office. I am hoping to move out as soon as possible. It is nice to have somewhere to live, but very frustrating to not be able to unpack, to not have free use of a kitchen, and to never have time alone. Also, random people come into my "bedroom" (which is really just a storage room with a small bed in it) throughout the day. There have been times when I have come back from class to have see my suitcase partially open (which is was not partially open when I left for class), the windows open, the doors to the balcony open, or the bed completely remade (apparently, the light brown side of the reversible comforter is preferable to some people). There is always someone at the office/apartment. This weekend the other activist who has been living here (for the last two years) has gone home for the weekend, but I am still not alone. Two other activists are staying here for the weekend. The adventures that come with the different apartment guests are endless. They include a woman running around topless, a drunk man appearing at eleven at night and not leaving until after one o'clock (impeding my ability to sleep since I was sleeping in the common area that night), couples making loud kissing noises (which is really annoying), parties, dancing, music, laughter, late night visitors (mainly to use the free Internet), and early morning visitors. Usually I have a room in the back to escape to (there were a few days in which someone else was staying there), but it is not fun to feel confined to one small, cold room. There is no end to the surprises and the chaos. Once again, I should reiterate that I appreciate having somewhere to live and that of course, the random people and their behavior amuses me (in perhaps a perverse manner).
Rachel warned me that people here wear the weirdest outfits and I would see some interesting outfits. When I told her that she was overreacting and that so far everyone seemed to dress fairly normal (with a few outlier), her reply was wait until the weather is warmer. I guess there is not much you can mess up when it comes to wearing a winter coat, boots, and other winter wear. Rachel told me her favorite (aka the most outrageous) Belgrade fashion was a woman she saw wearing the boxer-short underwear as shorts with a camisole walking the busy streets of Belgrade. Oh yes, and the woman was wearing high heels (Although, what shoes would look good with that outfit?)
Well, today I had my first encounter with the "true" fashion sense of Belgrade. Today was a warm day, especially considering we just had several days of snow. As I was making my way to class, I saw a woman wearing black pantyhose with black shorts, a black shirt, a long, black wool dress coat, and metallic silver cowboy boots. Let me just say, this combination is not attractive. Most of the elements are fine by themselves (Well, I'm not sure where anyone would wear the metallic silver cowboy boots and be fashionable), but when mixed together...well it was a fashion faux pas. I've decided when warmer weather comes around I will need to carry my camera around with me at all times so I can add a fashion do and a fashion don't section to my blog.
food
I went to a delicious little pub (restaurant) with Kristin (the BVS director) the other night. It was traditional Balkan food. The name of the restaurant was ? The food we ended up getting was very tasty, but there were definitely some options on the menu that made my stomach churn. They had translated the menu into English, but they obviously did it without anyone advising them on how to make the dishes sound more appetizing. Some of the translations included: a young male bull's sex organs, bowels, and some other animal organ dish (I believe it was liver). I did not want to eat any meat entrees that evening after reading the menu. I had a delicious Serbian salad with cheese and bread with cheese (which was the equivalent of square cheese sticks). I also had an excellent dessert, tufahije. It is an apple stuffed with walnuts and baked until it is very soft and juicy. It is then topped with whipped cream. It was delicious.
I'm still looking for a place to live. I have several people at the office who are helping me search. Today I sat with someone at the office and we called several of the places listed in the housing/apartment ads. Most of the places listed could only be contacted through the use of an agency (which costs a lot of money). There was one owner who actually was renting without the use of an agency, but she did not want to rent to an American.
apartment hunting
For now, I am still living at the office. I am hoping to move out as soon as possible. It is nice to have somewhere to live, but very frustrating to not be able to unpack, to not have free use of a kitchen, and to never have time alone. Also, random people come into my "bedroom" (which is really just a storage room with a small bed in it) throughout the day. There have been times when I have come back from class to have see my suitcase partially open (which is was not partially open when I left for class), the windows open, the doors to the balcony open, or the bed completely remade (apparently, the light brown side of the reversible comforter is preferable to some people). There is always someone at the office/apartment. This weekend the other activist who has been living here (for the last two years) has gone home for the weekend, but I am still not alone. Two other activists are staying here for the weekend. The adventures that come with the different apartment guests are endless. They include a woman running around topless, a drunk man appearing at eleven at night and not leaving until after one o'clock (impeding my ability to sleep since I was sleeping in the common area that night), couples making loud kissing noises (which is really annoying), parties, dancing, music, laughter, late night visitors (mainly to use the free Internet), and early morning visitors. Usually I have a room in the back to escape to (there were a few days in which someone else was staying there), but it is not fun to feel confined to one small, cold room. There is no end to the surprises and the chaos. Once again, I should reiterate that I appreciate having somewhere to live and that of course, the random people and their behavior amuses me (in perhaps a perverse manner).
Wednesday, November 21, 2007
Things I have learned to say in Srpski (Serbian)
Here is a list of the random things I have learned to say in srpski (Serbian):
1. My name is Katie (Ja sam Katie).
2. This is my watch (Ovo je moj sat).
3. This is my book (Ovo je moja knjiga).
4. This is my pen (Ovo je moje pero).
5. That is your watch (To je tvoj sat).
6. That is his book (To je njegova knjiga).
7. That is her pen (To je njeno pero).
8. I am studying Serbian (Ucim srpski).
9. Good morning (Dobro jutro).
10. Good afternoon (Dobar dan).
11. Good night (Laku noc).
12. Are you a student? (Da li si student?)
13. Yes, I am a student (Da, ja sam studentkinja).
14. I am American (Ja sam Amerikanka).*
15. We are friends (Mi smo drugovi).
Unfortunately, there are several vital accent marks missing throughout these translations since I have not yet figured out how to enter them in. I have learned that Serbian nouns change their endings based upon whether or not it is male singular or male plural, female singular or female plural, gender neutral singular or gender neutral plural. They also change their endings if you are using them in a sentence that involves location. For instance, the Serbian name for Belgrade is Beograd, but when I say I work in Belgrade I change the word to Beogradu. Apparently, there is a completely separate ending if you are ask someone if they are going somewhere (but this is too advanced for us to worry about right now).
Things I wish I knew to say in Serbian:
1. Numbers
2. Names for various foods and how to order them.
3. I want/I need
4. Vocabulary for directions
5. I don't speak Serbian.
6. I don't understand.
7. Excuse me (as in please move).
8. Sorry (as in oops I didn't mean to run right into you).
9. The names of the streets (particularly those for the office and school)
10. Do you speak English?
11. I don't like....(fill in the blank with various foods, smells, etc.)
12. Please stop making out in the office and making lip smacking sounds because it is annoying.
*Apparently, people here use the word America interchangeably with USA and American as the equivalent of US citizen (as they do in many other countries from my experience). In fact, when I asked specifically the word for US in class I was told by one professor it was unimportant. The next day's professor was kind enough to teach me the word for US, but still said I should just use America/American.
1. My name is Katie (Ja sam Katie).
2. This is my watch (Ovo je moj sat).
3. This is my book (Ovo je moja knjiga).
4. This is my pen (Ovo je moje pero).
5. That is your watch (To je tvoj sat).
6. That is his book (To je njegova knjiga).
7. That is her pen (To je njeno pero).
8. I am studying Serbian (Ucim srpski).
9. Good morning (Dobro jutro).
10. Good afternoon (Dobar dan).
11. Good night (Laku noc).
12. Are you a student? (Da li si student?)
13. Yes, I am a student (Da, ja sam studentkinja).
14. I am American (Ja sam Amerikanka).*
15. We are friends (Mi smo drugovi).
Unfortunately, there are several vital accent marks missing throughout these translations since I have not yet figured out how to enter them in. I have learned that Serbian nouns change their endings based upon whether or not it is male singular or male plural, female singular or female plural, gender neutral singular or gender neutral plural. They also change their endings if you are using them in a sentence that involves location. For instance, the Serbian name for Belgrade is Beograd, but when I say I work in Belgrade I change the word to Beogradu. Apparently, there is a completely separate ending if you are ask someone if they are going somewhere (but this is too advanced for us to worry about right now).
Things I wish I knew to say in Serbian:
1. Numbers
2. Names for various foods and how to order them.
3. I want/I need
4. Vocabulary for directions
5. I don't speak Serbian.
6. I don't understand.
7. Excuse me (as in please move).
8. Sorry (as in oops I didn't mean to run right into you).
9. The names of the streets (particularly those for the office and school)
10. Do you speak English?
11. I don't like....(fill in the blank with various foods, smells, etc.)
12. Please stop making out in the office and making lip smacking sounds because it is annoying.
*Apparently, people here use the word America interchangeably with USA and American as the equivalent of US citizen (as they do in many other countries from my experience). In fact, when I asked specifically the word for US in class I was told by one professor it was unimportant. The next day's professor was kind enough to teach me the word for US, but still said I should just use America/American.
Monday, November 19, 2007
Sarajevo
Sarajevo was beautiful. It was cold and snowy, but beautiful. We took a short tour of the city. We saw the various architectural styles (influenced by the different empires present in the city throughout the history) and the more famous buildings. We visited several mosques and tried to enter one, but were unable to enter since it was the call to prayer was just about to begin. We saw the infamous library (from which many irreplaceable books were burned during the war), but we did not enter. Our guides informed us some about the current debate in regards to the future of the building. Apparently, there is a political debate (and a debate among the citizens) as to whether or not the library should be restored. It is currently in the same condition it was left after the war (burn marks, bullet marks, and a general postwar look). Some people think it should be restored since it is a symbol of Sarajevo, but others think it should remain as it is as a symbol and a constant reminder of the war and the past.
Our tour of the city was shortened by the cold snow and the fact that several of the other BVSers did not bring proper footwear (several were wearing mary janes or an equivalent in which their socks were exposed to the snow and slush). I was lucky to be wearing my boots. We all stopped in a cafe for coffee, hot chocolate, and tea. I personally had two hot chocolates; others chose to mix it up by getting a coffee and a hot chocolate or a espresso and a coffee. Each of our drinks came with a complimentary chocolate.
We went out to dinner that evening with a local NGO worker (he was previously connected to the Quaker organization with Sarajevo). He was very interesting and gave us some his own personal opinions about the current situation in Sarajevo. On Friday morning (before we returned on the bus to Belgrade), we listened to another speaker who is the coordinator of the Mennonite Central Committee's activities in the Balkans. He shared with us his personal experience of the war. He was within the region during the war working with refugees and various aid organizations. He also shared with us about his current work, and his thoughts on the political situation in Bosnia-Herzegovina (he boiled it down to they are at a political standstill), Kosovo, and Serbia. It was very interesting to hear what he had to say.
Overall, I recommend a visit to Sarajevo to everyone who comes through the city. It was a beautiful city and I look forward to visiting it again. It will be nice to visit when I have more time to see the different parts of the city. I'm sure I will be going back again within the next two years to visit Tory, the BVSer who was placed in Sarajevo.
In other news, I added a second portion on to the bus ride blog entry. Check it out if desired.
Our tour of the city was shortened by the cold snow and the fact that several of the other BVSers did not bring proper footwear (several were wearing mary janes or an equivalent in which their socks were exposed to the snow and slush). I was lucky to be wearing my boots. We all stopped in a cafe for coffee, hot chocolate, and tea. I personally had two hot chocolates; others chose to mix it up by getting a coffee and a hot chocolate or a espresso and a coffee. Each of our drinks came with a complimentary chocolate.
We went out to dinner that evening with a local NGO worker (he was previously connected to the Quaker organization with Sarajevo). He was very interesting and gave us some his own personal opinions about the current situation in Sarajevo. On Friday morning (before we returned on the bus to Belgrade), we listened to another speaker who is the coordinator of the Mennonite Central Committee's activities in the Balkans. He shared with us his personal experience of the war. He was within the region during the war working with refugees and various aid organizations. He also shared with us about his current work, and his thoughts on the political situation in Bosnia-Herzegovina (he boiled it down to they are at a political standstill), Kosovo, and Serbia. It was very interesting to hear what he had to say.
Overall, I recommend a visit to Sarajevo to everyone who comes through the city. It was a beautiful city and I look forward to visiting it again. It will be nice to visit when I have more time to see the different parts of the city. I'm sure I will be going back again within the next two years to visit Tory, the BVSer who was placed in Sarajevo.
In other news, I added a second portion on to the bus ride blog entry. Check it out if desired.
Sunday, November 18, 2007
Bus Rides Part II
There are many more bus ride adventure stories to be told. The bus ride back from Sarajevo will have to be shared. Look for that to come in the following week...it will most likely be added to the first Bus Rides entry through a careful editing of that blog entry.
However, today's bus ride adventure began with a trip to Rachel's apartment to help her clean before leaving. I ended up spending most of my time making trips from her apartment to the WiB office with stuff I inherited from her (books, dishes, loose change, and a Serbian-English dictionary). However, I also needed to go register with the police again since I had exited the country to go to Sarajevo (I also had to go the police station to let them know I was leaving so they could take me off their massive list of foreigners in Belgrade). Since Rachel was focusing on packing and cleaning, it became my mission to make it to the bus stop where I meet the man who registers me. It seemed like a simple enough mission. If only.
2:45 pm --It began with Rachel dropping Katie off at the corner of a street to catch a bus to get to the bus stop. She is wearing a pair of sneakers and warm Smartwool socks. She wonders if she would have worn her boots, but thinks she will be fine since she won't be doing too much walking. Her sneakers can generally go through several puddles without any worries or uncomfortable wetness. There were two possible buses she could take to her destination -- number 6 or number 7. Unfortunately, number 6 arrives on one side of the six lane street while number seven arrives on the other side of the seven lane street. So, she had to try her luck and pick a corner in hopes that she would pick the one with the first bus to arrive. She did not. To be honest, Katie picked the corner of which she could see the tram stopped about 5o yards away from the actual bus stop. She thought they were taking a short break to switch drivers. She waited for about ten minutes at this corner on the break to end. She then realized that it was not a short break, but a permanent stop since the tram was empty. During the time it took her to figure this out two number seven buses had passed by on the other street corner (She might add they were one after another so my opportunity to cross the street after she saw one was not a long enough one to make the second bus). Rachel had told her that she had the option of crossing the six lanes of traffic if she wanted in order to catch the bus. The idea of running out in the middle of the busy street in the slush and snow did not seem like a good idea to her; it didn't seem like a good idea to any of the other pedestrians who also waited for the pedestrian crossing lights.
2:53 pm -- Katie crossed over to the other street corner after the realization that tram number 6 was permanently stopped on the tram tracks making any other number six arrivals unlikely.
3:00 pm -- Katie is still waiting in the wet, cold snow/rain/slush for a number seven bus. Katie is starting to get a little nervous about timing. Rachel has said before to her that everyone in Serbia runs late. She never calls ahead to say she is running late unless she knows she will be at least fifteen minutes late. Katie is trying to keep this advice in mind.
3:15 pm -- Tram number seven arrives. Katie boards this tram. She feels more confident in her ability to arrive at the destination. She just needs to keep her eyes focused to the left and looking out for the large Lilly store on the corner. She reminds herself over and over, "Get off at the stop after the Lilly store on the corner. Get off at the stop after the Lilly store on the corner. The Lilly store will be on the left. The Lilly store will be on the left."
3:18 pm -- Some older woman in a fur coat and fur hat asks Katie a question in Serbian. Katie stares at her in confusion and nods her head no. A young man then answers the woman's question (in Serbian, of course). Little did Katie know that this information was perhaps vital to the success of her trip.
3:19 pm -- The tram stops at the first stop since Katie's boarding of the tram. Everyone exits the tram as the tram operator stands up and yells something. Katie stands up and stands by the door in utter confusion as the bus driver instructs a middle-aged woman about something (in Serbian). Katie exits the tram. She begins to worry about how she will ever arrive at her destination since she does not even know the actual street names of her destination. She attempts to ask someone (in English, of course) what is going on, but is stared at and then roundly ignored.
3:22 pm -- Katie paces back and forth at the bus stop. She sees a bus with the number six pulling up to the bus stop. She decides to take a chance that bus number six uses the same route as tram number six. She jumps onto bus number six punching yet another all-purpose (tram, trolley, and bus) ticket as she enters. She finds a seat on the left side to keep an eye out for the promised Lilly corner store.
3:27 pm -- Bus number stops at a bus stop, starts to pull out, and finds itself stuck in the snow. The passengers all hold their breath in anticipation as to whether or not the bus will be able to get out of the snow if the bus driver pushes down on the gas enough. This strategy does not seem to be working. Katie is hoping that it works even though her past experiences with snows and wheels have shown that pushing the gas harder and harder several times is a very poor strategy.
3:29 pm -- The strategy doesn't work. Everyone exits the bus. Katie is thoroughly frustrated and very, very cold. She starts following the other passengers who are walking. She hopes she is following them to a bus station. She turns around to see that another number six bus is pulling up behind the first one (which is still stuck in the snow) and has graciously stopped to let the ten or twelve people (who stayed by the bus rather than walked) onto the bus. Katie turns around, runs full speed down the block without care to snow piles and slush puddles to catch this bus. She arrives just as the bus pulls away to be standing next to an elderly woman who is also trying to get on the bus. (The elderly woman had been standing waiting for the bus, but was having trouble making it through the slush and snow). Katie stares in frustration as the bus continues down the street. She then turns and walks back up the block she had just run down with soaking feet. Her toes are not very happy. She walks to what she believes may or may not be a bus station. She waits for another bus.
3:39 pm -- Another number six bus arrives. Katie boards this bus with an anxious eye on her watch and a naive hope that things will start to go easily. Silly Katie.
3:45 pm -- Katie sees the Lilly drug store on the corner. She jumps up, scoots past the grandmother sitting beside her, and stands behind several men (one of which also just stood up). She thinks she sees the man she is meeting through the shoulders, heads and hats; she is feeling a slight sense of victory. Katie gets in some sort of line or clump to get off the bus. By the time she realizes the men are not actually moving, she starts to push her way through. (This is a time when she realizes the words Excuse me in Serbian would be very helpful). She reaches the door just as it is closing; the fingers that were starting to go out the door are quickly drawn back. She tries to get the bus driver's attention to stop the bus and reopen the doors, but to no avail. She feels a rising wave of frustration and desperation as she watches her destination slowly fade away.
3:50 pm -- Katie exits the bus at what is the first stop since her destination passed. She runs full speed through the shin deep snow in an effort to catch the man. She also splashes through several puddles. Her feet have stopped crying out in pain and are now numb. But there is a nice, watery, squishy sound going on when she walks. She arrives at her destination point to not find her guide to the police station. A feeling of defeat washes over her. She is now unsure of what to do. She decides the only option is getting on the bus again to take her back to her original starting point. She waits with numb feet and painfully cold legs in the cold.
3:55 pm -- Katie gets on another number six bus. She rides the bus for about ten minutes only to have the bus stop and everyone exit the bus. Katie also exits the bus, but for what reason she does not know. She sees another number six bus sitting right in front of this bus and realizes this must be some sort of end of the line stop. She follows a few other passengers onto this bus. She sits for a minute or two before the bus pulls out and she is headed on her way back to her destination. She did not make it register with the police, but she has until tomorrow evening (then her 72 hours will expire). She is frustrated, but excited to be heading to somewhere warm where she can put on dry socks, pants, and shoes and can wring her socks out over the sink and empty her shoes of the water.
4:03 pm -- The bus gets stuck in the snow. By now, you all know the drill. Katie then walks the streets in utter confusion. She walks to what appears to be the nearest bus stop and waits for 3 or 4 minutes. Several buses come by (None of which are the numbers she needs, or it would be more accurate to say the numbers which she knows she can take and arrive somewhere remotely near her destination.) then Katie makes the startling realization that she could have passed a vital bus stop and she does not even know how far the bus goes before it would be turning onto the street where she started. She does not know the name of the street where she started. She then realizes that her feet are probably going to be frostbitten if she doesn't start moving and try to keep warm. She keeps walking. She walks for ten more minutes before she realizes she needs to find a way back to warmth, but this is a problem since she also doesn't know the name of the street where the office is located. She arrives at the conclusion that she must take a taxi to the only landmark she knows that is near the office from which she plans to walk to the office. She debates whether or not it is worth the precious dinars for a taxi to keep all ten of her toes. She decides it might be worth it. She then must find a taxi. This proves to be another challenge since the first few taxis to pass are already in use. She finds a free taxi, but quickly realizes it is stuck in the snow. She keeps walking. She had learned the previous day that one of the tricks to city living is to avoid getting to close to the street when cars are driving fast in the snow and water. This proves difficult while also trying to be seen by passing taxis. A most lovely taxi driver stops. Katie steps into the taxi, asks for Hotel Moskow, and listens to the lovely background music. In the ten minute drive, Katie realizes she is having serious doubts about this whole Serbian adventure lifestyle. The beauty of Indiana is calling her. She arrives at Hotel Moskow, pays the taxi driver a small chunk of the dinars in her wallet. (The equivalent of 3 and a half euros -- not bad, but still not something to part easily with in the world of a lowly volunteer.) Katie tries to walk as quickly as possible to the office to change into dry socks, pants, and shoes.
4:30 pm She arrives at the office. She changes her socks, pants, and shoes. She wrings her socks out in the sink and wonders when they will ever dry. She is grateful that she was wearing her Smartwool hiking socks rather than regular socks and briefly wonders how many toes she would be missing if she had been wearing regular socks. She calls Rachel to inform her of the mishap. She asks Rachel to call the man she was to meet and apologize for her and explain the situation. She promises Rachel to come back to help clean the apartment (cart more inherited things to the office) after an hour or two, when she warms up. She jumps into bed under the covers and tries to get warm by putting on numerous socks, sweaters and blankets.
Much later, Katie walks to Rachel's without mishap, talks to Rachel (and hears about Rachel's own horrors that occurred while Katie was away -- which mainly consisted of a conversation with M, the landlady) and hears Rachel's advice of looking on the positive side for the small things that go well. Katie decides the small, good things that happened that day were the following: she arrived at Rachel's apartment a few minutes ago with dry socks and shoes (boots); she did not get bit, kicked, or hit by any person or animal; and she now knows how to travel back and forth from the WiB office to an apartment which she will no longer be moving into and will probably never visit after today.
However, today's bus ride adventure began with a trip to Rachel's apartment to help her clean before leaving. I ended up spending most of my time making trips from her apartment to the WiB office with stuff I inherited from her (books, dishes, loose change, and a Serbian-English dictionary). However, I also needed to go register with the police again since I had exited the country to go to Sarajevo (I also had to go the police station to let them know I was leaving so they could take me off their massive list of foreigners in Belgrade). Since Rachel was focusing on packing and cleaning, it became my mission to make it to the bus stop where I meet the man who registers me. It seemed like a simple enough mission. If only.
2:45 pm --It began with Rachel dropping Katie off at the corner of a street to catch a bus to get to the bus stop. She is wearing a pair of sneakers and warm Smartwool socks. She wonders if she would have worn her boots, but thinks she will be fine since she won't be doing too much walking. Her sneakers can generally go through several puddles without any worries or uncomfortable wetness. There were two possible buses she could take to her destination -- number 6 or number 7. Unfortunately, number 6 arrives on one side of the six lane street while number seven arrives on the other side of the seven lane street. So, she had to try her luck and pick a corner in hopes that she would pick the one with the first bus to arrive. She did not. To be honest, Katie picked the corner of which she could see the tram stopped about 5o yards away from the actual bus stop. She thought they were taking a short break to switch drivers. She waited for about ten minutes at this corner on the break to end. She then realized that it was not a short break, but a permanent stop since the tram was empty. During the time it took her to figure this out two number seven buses had passed by on the other street corner (She might add they were one after another so my opportunity to cross the street after she saw one was not a long enough one to make the second bus). Rachel had told her that she had the option of crossing the six lanes of traffic if she wanted in order to catch the bus. The idea of running out in the middle of the busy street in the slush and snow did not seem like a good idea to her; it didn't seem like a good idea to any of the other pedestrians who also waited for the pedestrian crossing lights.
2:53 pm -- Katie crossed over to the other street corner after the realization that tram number 6 was permanently stopped on the tram tracks making any other number six arrivals unlikely.
3:00 pm -- Katie is still waiting in the wet, cold snow/rain/slush for a number seven bus. Katie is starting to get a little nervous about timing. Rachel has said before to her that everyone in Serbia runs late. She never calls ahead to say she is running late unless she knows she will be at least fifteen minutes late. Katie is trying to keep this advice in mind.
3:15 pm -- Tram number seven arrives. Katie boards this tram. She feels more confident in her ability to arrive at the destination. She just needs to keep her eyes focused to the left and looking out for the large Lilly store on the corner. She reminds herself over and over, "Get off at the stop after the Lilly store on the corner. Get off at the stop after the Lilly store on the corner. The Lilly store will be on the left. The Lilly store will be on the left."
3:18 pm -- Some older woman in a fur coat and fur hat asks Katie a question in Serbian. Katie stares at her in confusion and nods her head no. A young man then answers the woman's question (in Serbian, of course). Little did Katie know that this information was perhaps vital to the success of her trip.
3:19 pm -- The tram stops at the first stop since Katie's boarding of the tram. Everyone exits the tram as the tram operator stands up and yells something. Katie stands up and stands by the door in utter confusion as the bus driver instructs a middle-aged woman about something (in Serbian). Katie exits the tram. She begins to worry about how she will ever arrive at her destination since she does not even know the actual street names of her destination. She attempts to ask someone (in English, of course) what is going on, but is stared at and then roundly ignored.
3:22 pm -- Katie paces back and forth at the bus stop. She sees a bus with the number six pulling up to the bus stop. She decides to take a chance that bus number six uses the same route as tram number six. She jumps onto bus number six punching yet another all-purpose (tram, trolley, and bus) ticket as she enters. She finds a seat on the left side to keep an eye out for the promised Lilly corner store.
3:27 pm -- Bus number stops at a bus stop, starts to pull out, and finds itself stuck in the snow. The passengers all hold their breath in anticipation as to whether or not the bus will be able to get out of the snow if the bus driver pushes down on the gas enough. This strategy does not seem to be working. Katie is hoping that it works even though her past experiences with snows and wheels have shown that pushing the gas harder and harder several times is a very poor strategy.
3:29 pm -- The strategy doesn't work. Everyone exits the bus. Katie is thoroughly frustrated and very, very cold. She starts following the other passengers who are walking. She hopes she is following them to a bus station. She turns around to see that another number six bus is pulling up behind the first one (which is still stuck in the snow) and has graciously stopped to let the ten or twelve people (who stayed by the bus rather than walked) onto the bus. Katie turns around, runs full speed down the block without care to snow piles and slush puddles to catch this bus. She arrives just as the bus pulls away to be standing next to an elderly woman who is also trying to get on the bus. (The elderly woman had been standing waiting for the bus, but was having trouble making it through the slush and snow). Katie stares in frustration as the bus continues down the street. She then turns and walks back up the block she had just run down with soaking feet. Her toes are not very happy. She walks to what she believes may or may not be a bus station. She waits for another bus.
3:39 pm -- Another number six bus arrives. Katie boards this bus with an anxious eye on her watch and a naive hope that things will start to go easily. Silly Katie.
3:45 pm -- Katie sees the Lilly drug store on the corner. She jumps up, scoots past the grandmother sitting beside her, and stands behind several men (one of which also just stood up). She thinks she sees the man she is meeting through the shoulders, heads and hats; she is feeling a slight sense of victory. Katie gets in some sort of line or clump to get off the bus. By the time she realizes the men are not actually moving, she starts to push her way through. (This is a time when she realizes the words Excuse me in Serbian would be very helpful). She reaches the door just as it is closing; the fingers that were starting to go out the door are quickly drawn back. She tries to get the bus driver's attention to stop the bus and reopen the doors, but to no avail. She feels a rising wave of frustration and desperation as she watches her destination slowly fade away.
3:50 pm -- Katie exits the bus at what is the first stop since her destination passed. She runs full speed through the shin deep snow in an effort to catch the man. She also splashes through several puddles. Her feet have stopped crying out in pain and are now numb. But there is a nice, watery, squishy sound going on when she walks. She arrives at her destination point to not find her guide to the police station. A feeling of defeat washes over her. She is now unsure of what to do. She decides the only option is getting on the bus again to take her back to her original starting point. She waits with numb feet and painfully cold legs in the cold.
3:55 pm -- Katie gets on another number six bus. She rides the bus for about ten minutes only to have the bus stop and everyone exit the bus. Katie also exits the bus, but for what reason she does not know. She sees another number six bus sitting right in front of this bus and realizes this must be some sort of end of the line stop. She follows a few other passengers onto this bus. She sits for a minute or two before the bus pulls out and she is headed on her way back to her destination. She did not make it register with the police, but she has until tomorrow evening (then her 72 hours will expire). She is frustrated, but excited to be heading to somewhere warm where she can put on dry socks, pants, and shoes and can wring her socks out over the sink and empty her shoes of the water.
4:03 pm -- The bus gets stuck in the snow. By now, you all know the drill. Katie then walks the streets in utter confusion. She walks to what appears to be the nearest bus stop and waits for 3 or 4 minutes. Several buses come by (None of which are the numbers she needs, or it would be more accurate to say the numbers which she knows she can take and arrive somewhere remotely near her destination.) then Katie makes the startling realization that she could have passed a vital bus stop and she does not even know how far the bus goes before it would be turning onto the street where she started. She does not know the name of the street where she started. She then realizes that her feet are probably going to be frostbitten if she doesn't start moving and try to keep warm. She keeps walking. She walks for ten more minutes before she realizes she needs to find a way back to warmth, but this is a problem since she also doesn't know the name of the street where the office is located. She arrives at the conclusion that she must take a taxi to the only landmark she knows that is near the office from which she plans to walk to the office. She debates whether or not it is worth the precious dinars for a taxi to keep all ten of her toes. She decides it might be worth it. She then must find a taxi. This proves to be another challenge since the first few taxis to pass are already in use. She finds a free taxi, but quickly realizes it is stuck in the snow. She keeps walking. She had learned the previous day that one of the tricks to city living is to avoid getting to close to the street when cars are driving fast in the snow and water. This proves difficult while also trying to be seen by passing taxis. A most lovely taxi driver stops. Katie steps into the taxi, asks for Hotel Moskow, and listens to the lovely background music. In the ten minute drive, Katie realizes she is having serious doubts about this whole Serbian adventure lifestyle. The beauty of Indiana is calling her. She arrives at Hotel Moskow, pays the taxi driver a small chunk of the dinars in her wallet. (The equivalent of 3 and a half euros -- not bad, but still not something to part easily with in the world of a lowly volunteer.) Katie tries to walk as quickly as possible to the office to change into dry socks, pants, and shoes.
4:30 pm She arrives at the office. She changes her socks, pants, and shoes. She wrings her socks out in the sink and wonders when they will ever dry. She is grateful that she was wearing her Smartwool hiking socks rather than regular socks and briefly wonders how many toes she would be missing if she had been wearing regular socks. She calls Rachel to inform her of the mishap. She asks Rachel to call the man she was to meet and apologize for her and explain the situation. She promises Rachel to come back to help clean the apartment (cart more inherited things to the office) after an hour or two, when she warms up. She jumps into bed under the covers and tries to get warm by putting on numerous socks, sweaters and blankets.
Much later, Katie walks to Rachel's without mishap, talks to Rachel (and hears about Rachel's own horrors that occurred while Katie was away -- which mainly consisted of a conversation with M, the landlady) and hears Rachel's advice of looking on the positive side for the small things that go well. Katie decides the small, good things that happened that day were the following: she arrived at Rachel's apartment a few minutes ago with dry socks and shoes (boots); she did not get bit, kicked, or hit by any person or animal; and she now knows how to travel back and forth from the WiB office to an apartment which she will no longer be moving into and will probably never visit after today.
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