23-V-1970.
The province level of the KMT competitions, in Kula this time. Started on 21st. Better organized than last year. Met a few folks from then. No love affair. Won the second prize, good enough, the top three go to federal level. Had fun and that's about it. I seem to remember Strle was there, and Bukac (not quite sure... nope, he should be in mašinska already). The whole event is shadowed by the one of the previous year, of which it was mostly a rerun, so my memory is blurry there, and also the diary reduces this to one paragraph.
There was some extra test, which wasn't too related to the competition, and we quickly gathered that it was the guy who held our oto class, Miloš, guess he was trying to complete college - a law was in the making which'd require the higher elementary teachers to have a full degree, not just a two year pedagogical higher, so we were the data for his 'research'.
Came back around 17:30 today and had just ninety minutes to get ready for the prom. Mom was finishing sewing my vest. To make things worse, she was checking time on the kitchen clock, which ran a whole hour late, so she was in no hurry.
I made it slightly after the beginning, at 19:10, when the principal began her farewell speech. I got compliments for my attire from, guess who - Đica. She's gotten prettier lately.
I wanted to dance the first tango with Miljka but wasn't fast enough, so I went for V., why not, we did spend a lot of time together on the last few dances. Though, we weren't interested in each other much, she got in trouble with her boyfriend and I had my eyes elsewhere.
Miljka and I are somewhere in there.
The party altogether wasn't much. The PA system was weak - it would cover a dance with a dozen or two people, but this was close to hundred. The food was slim. The company was so-so, with so many of those who weren't used to dance parties like this. The music was great - we had more records than ever - but the deejays weren't imaginative. If it weren't for me, the "Marie jolie" or "Million years" (would that be Bee Gees? I'd say) wouldn't be played at all.
The hit of the evening was "Applausi" by Camaleonti, to which Bora and I danced like crazy. But then soon half of the guys went to the nearby classroom to watch basketball. SFRY took that exact evening to become the world champion. The following years the title would be taken, at turns, between USA, USSR and us. We were the champions, but that took away some of the party.
V. was looking great
Eventually I did dance with Miljka, head on shoulder, just like two months ago, with me trying my best to be romantic. And that was the last tango, around 23:00. B., the classmaster of the VIII1, took the stand and exclaimed that while we're finished with our classes, we're still the students of Zmaj, and we're bound by the same rules while on premises, so we own you and we have the power to not issue your certificates. So, from school you go straight home, or else. If we hear that you went around town and made a mess, we'll know which of you were there and you will have trouble enlisting into a high school of your choice. So keep in mind that you're still students of this school.
Too bad, she was almost becoming nice.
Of course, we marched collectively downtown, actually by the police HQ (because the other bridge, the old one, was torn down and the new one wasn't finished yet) and one cop almost came down to see what's going on. Miljka didn't come, she stayed at school to help move the desks and then went home. So I embraced Z. and D.K. and walked like that with the others. We didn't do much, this was just a victory lap with some singing (with limerick-like stuff, or worse). We dispersed around 0:30.
Much later, in november of 1972, Tejka confessed to my mom that she'd agree to be my girlfriend had I asked her this evening, but I didn't even dance with her.
In the morning, just when I meant to sleep until noon, here come Dragana, Tejka, Vladimira and Bosa. To spread the news: Dragana got slapped by her mom, caught her smoking. V. has failed the year and will have to repeat it.
Much later (fifty years and then some) Dragana told us how it happened. She came home at some late time (well, twelve thirty or less), all proud with Vuk diploma and a bunch of others, but no, mom sniffed her out and laid a heavy slap over her cheek, her ears rang.
On twentyfifth Šefka Hodžić was sentenced to death for killing a pregnant friend and taking out the unborn child. Reduced to 20 years later. The whole case was shaking the newspapers since october, nobody could believe anyone would ever think of such a deed, let alone actually do it.
The first shot, so square (I guess I cropped off the ceiling) came from someone's fotkalica of the 126 format. It bugged us to no end to develop, we didn't know the cassette's innards and didn't know how to open it, and yet it can't be looked into, must do this all in the dark, by touch alone. Still don't know how, then we cracked it open, removed the paper backing and dipped it into the developer. Later I kept getting oddball samples of the format, mostly vacation shots by various. Developing them was sheer trouble, the negative was very low contrast, must have been Kodak's special recipe, and the regular FR-3 didn't fit. Later I got a couple of 110 format, which was the same shit, just of 16mm width, a toy pretending to be a spy fotoaparat (we called it so, a camera was the motion picture thing; the word fotkalica actually was not invented yet, had to wait about three decades to be born).
Mentions: 17-XI-1972., Borivoj Raboški (Bora), Bosiljka Šain (Bosa), Dragana Vitas (Dragana), Dušan Starkić (Strle), Đurđica Oraški (Đica), Gradivoj Buković (Bukac), Miloš Šandorov, MPSŠC (mašinska), OTO, Slavica Tejin (Tejka), Smiljka Grajin (Miljka), VIII1, Vladimira Brkljević, Zmaj, in serbian
20-XI-2020 - 15-V-2026