12-IV-2025.
It still being a tad chilly, we barely went anywhere. On tenth a bit of grocery - Lidl, Roda. The lamb for monday is a no go, because they had only one piece, the whole left side ribs, could have done half or third of that. The butcher said they don't cut anymore, dare not take a knife in hand, orders from above... If he was allowed to do so, this piece wouldn't be here, it'd be sold in half an hour. As it is, it's onesided so unfit for a spit, and too big for an oven, so it'll be returned, them smartasses, this must have been a smart idea by anyone who never cooked a lunch.
So we spend our days following news, there's at thirty or more titles a day worth reading in Danas alone. On this eleventh we at least knew when our local community's zbor is scheduled, so we arrived, on bicycles. The walk was from our supermarket on the corner, to the elementary school by the former Radijator, which was built, I guess, in the late seventies and was not maintained at all. Initially because it was new so there was no need, and then because the money always vanished in various directions before reaching its destination. For a while the school managed by renting out the extra space (so Zeki had his department store in 1989, until the faked theft of fur coats), but then the other nearby school building was closed, and our area was built so the number of children increased... And now the building is in an unknown condition, the code inspector took just a visual check two years ago and forbid the use of one wing, which was 'remedied' by blocking that hall with cupboards and flowerboxes...
A good gathering, with the other LC whose childrend attend the same school, and a delegation from LC Gradnulica, between 200 and 300 - the old educational skill of counting people in bunches of 25-30 hasn't left me, I see on the spot how many divisions is that. Banners, signs, whistles, all ages from kids to us retiros, a real local community.
Later I learned that the students in blockade, without any previous agreement, just randomly walked in those green vests from their petefi to downtown, waving their flag. By the time they reached Žitni, they picked some two hundred citizen. No announcement, no fays viber no dicks thmbs, just what they gathered along the way.
At the same time the Ćacilend 2.0 was made, the great imitator was imitating himself doing a students' imitation, preparing for the grand masturpiss. I feared that the fencing of the area may be a way to provoke the free citizens outside the fence, and to try for some bloodshedding which would be blamed on students.
While we were watching the live feed of the walkers (what with that guy from Melenci on crutches, says this makes it 500 km already that he did so), just when they were a block away from the main square, Nina called so we moved to the mac. The kids are fine, Sanda and Linda we saw a few times (but I didn't fare gloriously with snapshots, they run out of the frame before I get ready), Violet we saw just once in passing, and Raja we saw not at all, but heard him, and that's where it got weird. As opposed to most of cases known to me, including my own, when lowering the pitch happens in jumps, switching octave at random, sometimes thrice in the same sentence, he is doing it gradually, by about a steady halftone a month. It's already a whole octave lower than what I remember, and the tone of his voice is largely similar to [that of] his father's.
In personal plane, she recounted at length how Mark dragged like thin guts, wanna pee donwanna pee... She noticed on the Face that one of his exes mentioned them having been somewhere, so she called him up on that, and he immediately fell into „why are you attacking me“... ah, okay, ciao gbye. You'd keep the liberty to do what you want, while I must not say nothing... well, then I won't say anything. Then he blocked her on both Face and another platform, so she can't even see him to block him back. Never mind, I said, wait until he unblocks you and so then. Meanwhile, she's been to dinner with some guy from the end, a divorced, his ex was from Germany, and had one from Italy before... a eurohugger. Says the Americans are nothing to wish for, no luck with those girls. Well, fingers crossed.
Drank quite a bit in the evening, had it really going. I even woke up earlier in the morning, slept from about 4 to 10, and then got tricked by the afternoon, meant to nap for half an hour and then to watch the live feed on blokada.info from Novi Pazar, but fuckit, I missed the first thirty minutes of it. Watched that for a while, specially were amazed by one „forever student Nikola from Kikinda... so let's get these to leave so I can return to studies“. Then she went to sit by the gugolj and so we watched whatever each catches. Then she picked Šarović's (KTV) feed, he managed to enter the Ćacilend 2.0 („the fence was broken through in several places, people are leaving, thats where we got in“). I immediately passed the link to burundi and then it became exciting, because we jumped in barely five minutes before the dynamic part of the events, when the team got beaten by the CEO of the retirement fund and the CEO of the city sweepers, doubling as orderlies, what with the fluorescent traffic vests, and then the cops started protecting them after the beating (though they overheard them setting up the game plan) by putting them between the fence and two fire vehicles, on the korner of the sv. Marko's church. The liaison officer was some Cvija Kojot (coyote), the #2 man of the city police, undercover, who neatly gave his name and number and kept repeating each of his sentences ten times. Whenever such a live feed is on, better stick to Šarović's channel, it'll be guaranteed a place in an anthology. And it was maybe better that he wasn't able to move, because by tracking one spot over time one could see how the crowd thins. From the moment when AV started speaking, it was visibly less people there. At some point, when it looked as if he was done but actually only made a dramatic pause to get some air for the next barrage, at least thirty people vanished from the frame. Someone posted a shot of a camera by Naksi taksi (cab union, they have a dozen of them permanently online), where Brankov bridge (between Zeleni venac [green wreath] market any Lena's place) is full of people leaving downtown, before AV even came to half of his speech. I posted that to the platoon meeting, and Lena said, at 20:49, „it looks like that since 19“ (she has the view of the bridge from her office)..
On thirteenth we, of course, kept reading all day whatever people wrote and posted, and also kept track of the cyclists' progress toward Strazbur (Strasbourg) and how the unauthorized [one] explains that they're actually just faking a ride for a while while the cameras are on, then they pack it all into vans... Like his 'walkers' did. Except there were shots of his [ones] embarking the buses, while there are no shots of vans loaded with 80-some bikes, despite them being followed by traffic cops, his through Serbia and Orban's through Hungary, and in police cars the cameras are permanently on. And then we found Kesić and his bit about him with Toma Mona and Mali (ministers of construction and finance, the former being son of some entrepreneur lady here, whom Dragana knows personally), eating sandwiches with parizer (baloney)... except there are only two shots of the eating itself, the first when the ministers have already taken some six bites each and AV is still talking, and the next when they're about halfway and AV has only the last bit of sandwich in his hand. Well said Kesić, if you're doing a propagandistic stint, if you want to make a point, why don't you supply the crown evidence, why do you have to lie even there, or to make the crucial two minutes of footage vanish, as if someone unpunishable drove over someone again... Well you didn't kill anyone, you only had to take and eat at least two bites. Even when he lies, he lies.
Talked with Go in the evening. Stanley went to buy some stuff and returned about halfway through our talk. The kids are fine, it's just Anita's laptop that's on its last leg, will have to buy new, maybe in Costco. Go got that red light, so slowly now, it may help her eye. Last year when they were here, she visited an ophtalmolog[ist] here, because her left eye was getting worse for a whole year by then, and she managed one visit (privately, at the practice of a daughter of some chick from IV1, to whom Dragana connected us, they're closer, her I know more or less lightly), but she sent her to a neurolog[ist], privately again, and neither did anything, told her to go for a seetee scan, and each charged her some fifty bucks for just sending her to the next one in chain. It was about the time to leave by then, so she got out from that circulus. The serbian private doctors just try to see you as many times as possible, and charge a bit each time. Two by two, 402. And this light, if it helps, it helps, it cost roughly as much as three such visits.
Monday, 14th, preparations all day, she did everytthing, I just poured the 24.2 tutifruti from the big casket. It has pretty much everythng - blackberries, apples, figs, some pears and apricots and whatever we found. She roasted the neck of that half [pig] in the oven, salties in the frajer, all in order. They arrived some fifteen minutes late, but „never mind, we'll make up for it“. The conversation was more or less boring, except in the part when Dragana and I crossed blades over Vučić - she doesn't believe that he skipped the baloney, it must be Kesić who edited that out (well he didn't, I saw the footage when it appeared, it was just so then), but then does believe that the pedaling to Strazbur was faked, they ride a bit for the cameras, then load the bikes into vans... Well how come there's not a single shot of that... There she bit her tongue a little and said I was really bullshitting, and then changed the subject. There we heard that the car crash last week, on the Kikinda road, it was Jasmina's brother with wife on the tractor, he got banged up and she had fractures - someone hit the pedal in a beemer to 220 km/h at night, passed another car and knocked it into their tractor. Won't repeat that, ever.
The new 24.2 tutifruti performed well, we each had three (!) (okay, Borče is always faster and drinks one more), but then only a liter and a half of wine was drunk.
They felt like going to Kapadokija (Καππαδοκία aka Cappadocia), to which we reacted as disinterested observers. Although just three weeks ago we meant to actually travel with them somewhere, like that Tikveš, now anything beyond 120km is out of a question... Palić would be fine, Bezdan, Vršac again, that much. Didn't even pull out a shooter or a phone - no photos. I even meant to cut a few lilacs to emanate the fragrance over the table, gave up on that too.
We also learned of their retirements - Borče's is around 89000, hers 96000 or thereabouts. Ours, taken together, below 80000. And they purchased their apartments for some pittance, couple hundred marks like... And the whole story began with her complaint on the fuckup over her new phone, because she bought from Jetel (Yettel). Because they don't take cash even if you offer, it must be a 24 installment loan. You pay cash and they put that on an account and then take installments from that account and move them monthly to the other account where the loan is. Cash or not, they charge you 350 dinars a month for „account maintenance“, so the phone costs not 500€, it's 570€. Interest and other costs included as well. Luckily, she says, it's her last one.
Split at 1:30, as usual, in mild warm wind, the taxi arrived promptly. We two poured ourselves one more but it wasn't working, returned half into the bottle. The wind went on the next day, with rain on tuesday, without after.
Tuesday, 15th, went to pay all them bills in the morning, raise some cash and get the cigarette shells, success on each item, done all in five mintues. Eh, the benefits of an early start... around 19th it's all crowded, there's a queue at pay and the serekeš has no cash.
Afternoon Nina asked how to make šlingeraji (v. house dictionary)... Got a detailed recipe as the answer (in a separate chat with mom, over gugolj), and in two days we got two shots - Nina made two pleks, Go one, Neša and Anita posed for an ad photo...
In the evening, of course, we watched some protest, don't remember quite which one, maybe arriving of cyclists and walkers at Kraljevo.
No, no, until 18 it was the blockade of the RTS, then the doček of bicyclists at Strazbur, both by KTV. At some point during the first one Lena called, so we watched Tanja trying to reach the mac again. She's propping herself up faster each time, and now is fumbling around her mouth, it seems the „first tooth or first steps“ will reach a photo finnish. We didn't talk for too long, Tanja was in thin mood, seems the time for her evening nap came earlier. Then Šarović started the live feed from Strazbur, which we watched to the end, was really touching, specially the lovely chick from the diaspora, which seems to have been in correspondence with her cyclist for all of thirteen days, and now came to meet him (to dočekati him), their embracing and kissing was so sweet... Just like we were 52 years ago, and many times after...
Wensday, we still eat the ragu (ragout...) čorba with bits of lemon and jučetina (v. house dictionary) from the frendz parti, the roast and russian [salad]. Still all good, even the roast has the smack despite being cold. After the catnap I came to gradually, and then we got into the car and drove to town. Parked on Žitni, and went shopping, at the Chineses in the glassbox, didn't do that in a long year. More than that, actually, there was no reason to go in, we aren't in the toys and trinkets market anymore. Finally found me a photo bag - nice green color, good lid which opens easily, no latch just hedgehog tape (aka velcro), seems tightly sewn and woven, and if the zips go into dad's, doesn't matter much. She found a nice clutch//shoulder bag, complying with the story which is hot this week, how one of chinese replies to Trumps customs is to stop pretending and keep mum about high fashion items, so they now offer original Prada or Hermes bags for a thousand or two, instead of fifteen to forty. Skip the middlepersons, buy the originals straight from the manufacturers... And the bag does look well. While she bought that I went out and set on the low parapet and had a smoke, and when she came out I remembered to go back in and buy whistles - 50 dinals apiece. A bright yellow [one] for me, red for her.
Then she went into „Proleter“ aka „Obuća Beograd“ (Belgrade footwear) aka „Uno“ aka no clue what's the current name, and bought two pairs of sandals, all leather, chinese make but guess there's no domestic anymore, except Kompako.
By the time we got to the centre it was 19:30 already. We sat on the bench by the left wing of the city hall, accompanied by some youngster. I gathered that I don't recognize the language in which he phoned... just in case, I asked whether it was romanian... and it was. I recognized just two words, „şi“ and one I didn't memorize. He's from Ečka, he said... We turned to the subject of the Chineses right on, the Linglong being at five minutes' walk. They're a deluge over Ečka, they just buy an abandoned house and line up the live-in container boxes and that's a dorm. And they'll build.
We got up around eight, when the local communities started arriving to the protest („16th for 16“, each is named), Gradnulica first (at least two-three times more numerous than on friday), then Mala Amerika, then Bagljaš. Didn't see the others, who come from other directions. In the Bagljaš column, lo two known faces - Vanji with maam. Big greetings, they don't look any older than we do, with her being exactly the same as ten years ago, while his face went a bit wider. Talked at length, first about grandchildren, „whoa, all kudos... we'll stay at four it seems, that's it“. I remembered to ask him about Paja. „Is he alive?“ „I asked first“. Said he had to stop selling through him, he'd drink half and sell half. „His son almost shooed me out, said why do you keep bringing it you see what he looks like“. Still he pressed on for another year and a bit and then quit, now he sells thrugh some others, still making a dime here and there. And he's got a few tezgas where he's paid to review a project and sign because he's certified... a drop of cash from there too. The rest of talk was mostly about rakija, said it can be made even from carrots, he tried it and it feels exactly like fresh carrot. And, ah yes, Franci died, he was somewhat fuzzy with heart, then got vaccinated and didn't collect five days since.
Says he made a wine recently, a kupaža (coupage? fuck the Frenches), put together maybe a crate of it, called it „merlot pumpaj!“ and won a silver [medal] for it somewhere, and the other guy who bought grapes from him called his [wine] just „pumpaj!“ and got a gold [medal] elsewhere.
The dance was also interesting, just like every other time we meet (which I was lucky to avoid for eight years now), that it's only mentioned „you should drop by“, never a step beyond that. I think he doesn't have my mobile number, I changed it six [years] ago.
The courier from Wolt came twice to pick an order from „Walter“ (next to post [office]) and was escorted by some petty mongrel, which barked loudly after him.
Though it looked that the crowd was nowhere near that when the days of beer are, well, not quite so. Then a lot of space is taken by stalls, and the fencing around the flower patches and fountains, then there's the stage, sound and camera tower... Though then the Žitni and main square get filled as well which outweighs this, but I'd say not by much, maybe 10%. And all this at an event where even the music wasn't much... I mean it was excellent, ProHor (PROtest CHOiR) sang „Vostani Serbie“ (rise, Serbia), and „For a million years“ (yugoslav entry for Live Aid 13-VII-1985.), and I didn't recognize the rest because I was more than ten meters away. The people simply don't hear when the singing begins, there's no amplifiers, but there are thousands of whistles, vuvuzelas and whatever anyone brings.
We didn't stay for the silence, three hours on foot is roughly the limit of our capacity, considering both our backs and bladders. While we walked down the main street to Žitni, we saw others leaving, but then just as many new people were arriving. Eh, if only Vučić was here with mike and amps, they'd all be gone by now.
Didn't do the photos right away, because we sat to read the news first (they're coming too fast again, here this part that I'm writing on ayteenth took me half an hour to just lay out in my mind what happened when in last three days (!)), and then we lit that candle in a tin foil cup, which we insert into her chandelier of woven paper, lined up the shots, ashtrays, she made more cigarettes, and then we took it slowly. First the half shot of the old tutifruti left from last time, then the new one left from monday.
Thursday the 17th. Did the photos in the morning, then read the news all day, then slept at length after lunch (the last of that čorba and roast and russian). In the evening, while we watched some of that, Linda and Sanda called, being bored, Nina will return from work in two hours. No fuss no panic, they just figured something to play involving us. Aaaaalright... and, of course, they wanted to play with Owlie (the hand puppet), the main character, always welcome.
Entertained in the evening, went to sleep by two, got up by five. The ernafil stuffed my nose again. Well, never mind, I'll sleep it off after lunch (cardiological gulaš, of young beef hearts). Just when I made it through the second hour of catnap, she brings my mobile - Carp. To report the birth of the third grandchild. Well I don't regret being woken up for that, I just dreamt that I should wake up.
Mentions: 13-VII-1985., Anita Jennifer Berger (Anita), blockade, burundi, čorba, doček, Dragana Vitas (Dragana), frajer, Franc Bauer (Franci), frendz parti, Gorana Sredljević (Go), gugolj, house dictionary, Jasmina Vlajin, Jelena Sredljević (Lena), Jovan Dimijan (Zeki), KTV, Linda Sredljevich Aquilla (Linda), Mališa Borkovski (Borče), Mark Anderson, Nenad Berger (Neša), Nevena Sredljević (Nina), Paja Čkaljević, petefi, plek, Radijator, rakija, Ryu (Raja), Sanda Sredljević Aquilla (Sanda), serekeš, Stanley Berger, Tanja Nastić, Tasa Radenkov (Carp), tezga, tutifruti, Vilmoš Baranji (Vanji), Violet, Žitni, in serbian
13-IV-2025 - 7-IV-2026