A student of business law, which is kind of ridiculous to study in a socialist, self-management country, while expecting to return home and work in capitalism. But then after 9th september 1973, when Salvador Allende was killed and the CIA's guys installed Augusto Pinochet as the friendly dictator and the showcase of Chicago school of economy (and the poster boy for the disparados movement), he couldn't go home anymore. So he stalled his studies but went to all the meetings where various delegations of youth movements from Chile were guests, and translated for them. He spoke serbocroatian fairly well.
He was trying to pass the maths exam so he asked for some friendly help. I volunteered, along with a guy from Subotica, and it turned out to be just one lesson and in return I got one lesson in spanish language (which actually did help, he explained a few basic things, taught me to read and then I was able to find my way further).
Years later I heard he's still a student of sorts, receiving some stipend from our government. He lost the room in the dorm and lived with a couple of Ljuba's friends, who usually got him pressed into having a drink ("C'mon, are you a Serb or not? Have one!").
He once had a tezga at the cuban stand on the fair, and from the loot I got a pack of „767“ cigarettes, actually quite regular ones, except this was a 100mm piece without filter. And it wasn't bad at all (though I wasn't any conesser* at the time, with less than a year of smoker's staž), we just went through the pack in a few days, and I don't remember much of the taste or smell.
What I do remember... eh, even then I already had the habit to lick the tip before lighting it, allegedly helps to soften it (second trick is to pull from the flame thrice, third to have the burning tip leant to metal first three pulls). This cuban [one] had the taste of the postage stamp glue.
----
* fuck the Frenches and their art of spell casting
10-VII-2020 - 17-XII-2025