Belgrade, Serbia

I never really imagined ending up in Serbia as part of this trip. To be honest, I never even really knew much about Serbia until I started spending time in the former yugoslavia republics. And when I learned more, esecially from the perspective of Slovenians, Croats and Bosnians, I definitely didnt look upon Serbian and Serbs fondly. Serbia has a very aggressive stereotype in mind, like a land of bullies, even though younger Slovenians, Croats and Bosnians dont seem to hold a grudge against Serbs. Still I held a grudge and thinking of being in Serbia surrounded by mean Serbs kind of freaked me out. 

On the near empty train from Sarajevo, I noticed the landscape get more and more desolate. As day turned into night, I noticed small fires in the fields to renew the soil. The smell of fire, the chill in the air. It made me feel strong to be all alone in this rickety old train, heading to Serbia with such a sullen landscape. In fact,I was writing in my journal how strange it was, yet how independent I felt. Mid-sentence, I look up to see a group of mean looking men, some in military costumes walk by, sort of leer at me, and continue on laughing. 

I was freaked out, and immediately closed my journal and knocked on the compartment door of the only other tourists on the train. For the rest of the journey, I felt safe with three Australian boys.

Based on the train experience, and my earlier prejudices, I was pretty nervous about my time in Belgrade.

As always, having low expectations is the bestway to have a memorable trip.

I settled into my quiet hostel (strange because Belgrade is claimed to be the "party capital of Europe"). Sure Ghadaffi had just been killed, but still, I was expecting to be greeted with a party atmosphere.

The next day, I went on a free walking tour in which I learned two valuable lessons:

• First, Belgrade has a lot of history that they are willing to share, but not the history anyone is interested in. We are interested in the whole breaking up of Yugoslavia and Kosovo mess, which unfortunately no tour or tour book really acknowledges. 

• Second, don't correctly answer the tour guides question of "What is the name of the national drink of Serbia?" unless you are ready to drink a big serving of Rokia a 9am tour. Rokia is an often homemade liquor, normally made from plum. Also, it is considered an insult to the family if it is homemade and you dont drink it. Thus, I spent the rest of the tour slightly drunk. And, for the record, I got the pronounciation of Rakia very wrong but I was the closest, thus peer pressured to drink at 9am.

I went out a couple nights with the boring people from the boring hostel, eagerly looking for the crazy wild nightlife, but only found some NYC-like bars and a latin music place. On Saturday night, I was hell bent on seeing some of this Belgrade nightlife. My future wasnt looking very good - even the boring backpackers had left and I was sleeping alone in my dorm. Then my party angels arrived. 

At 11:30, my two new Australian party angels and I dressed up in short skirts and high heels, did some shots of Rakia and headed out. We arrived at 11:45 to Plastik and the club hadnt even opened yet. 

Always cool, we were the first to enter the club. But within 45 minutes, the place was filled with really drunk and obnoxious people. The music was good, and we quickly made buddies with some Croatian and Serbian volleyball players who were in town for some tournament. Most notable were Ivan (Croat) and Nenad (Serb) who are friends and coworkers. I enjoyed talking to Nenad, and danced and danced with Ivan until at least 4am. Not only did I meet two new friends, but I also finally got to experience some of this acclaimed nightlife.

The Croatian volleyball guys had a game at 11am the next day, and even though Ivan promised to give me directions to the game, I knew that he would NOT make the game, let alone email me directions. 

I did end up sightseeing the next day with Nenad. First stop, Tito's mausoleum. Nenad also shared with me a lot of history, as well as his personal take on all of the recent history. Tito was a very interesting guy - quite a charmer on the international circuit, and (my opinion) people loved him because there wasnt much other choice. When he died in 1980, the funeral processions were unprecedented. In retrospect, a lot of people believe it was a brainwashing, but it was still interesting to visit his mausoleum.

During this time, Ivan did call. Surprisingly, he made the 11am volleyball game. The whole team was pretty much in the same shape they were in when we left them at 4am, and Ivan hysterically informed me that he almost threw up on the floor during the game. 

After Nenad and I stopped laughing, we drove up to Mt Avala, a very picturesque mountain overlooking Belgrade and saw the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier. 

We also rode up a TV tower that has been destroyed (and rebuilt) two times. It is the symbol of Belgrade, and I have a snowglobe to prove it!

All in all, Belgrade is a very cool city. The Serbs I interacted with seemed educated, cosmopolitan, and definitely not mean at all. Unless you count the souvenir Nenad gave me, which is a 1,000,000,000 dinar bill from the good ole days of inflation. Serbia still uses the dinar, but this bill is just a tease and has no monetary value. Those mean Serbs!

Postscript - not only was Nenad not a mean guy, neither was Nikolai Telsa. Highly interactive museum in Belgrade that would have been cool if I spoke Serbian. On second thought, I dont think I would have understood it in English either.