23-5-11 @ 10:15
Hotel Royal, Belgrade
Subject: 19-5-11
It’s been awhile since my last entries, again I must apologize. Our pace in this city is “go, go, go!” but it’s been absolutely wonderful.
On the 19th of May, we visited the city of Kragujevac, or more specifically a museum outside of town. Kragujevac was the site of a massacre by the Nazis on October 21st, 1941. A brief overview from Wikipedia states the following:
“Kragujevac underwent a number of ordeals, the worst probably having been the October massacre during World War II. The Kragujevac massacre was the slaughter of 2,300 to 5,000 civilians—mostly Serbs and Roma—in Kragujevac by Nazi soldiers between 20–21 October 1941. Staniša Brkić, curator of The Museum of 21 October, published a book in 2007 where he listed names and personal data of 2,796 victims. The killings went on from October 19 to October 21, 1941, in retaliation for a partisan attack on German soldiers. 50 people were shot per wounded German soldier, while 100 for a dead soldier. Among the killed was a whole generation of boys taken directly from the school.”
The museum is appropriately named “21 October.” Luckily for me, the museum was fairly short. It focused on the specific event and didn’t attempt to cover anything beyond the massacre. The entire time we were listening to our guide, I felt sick to my stomach – I just can’t understand that level of violence. What’s weird for me is that my aversion to violence is primarily founded on modern warfare and brutality. Swords, axes, maces…violent, well yes – but there is something personal about having to go toe to toe with an enemy combatant, something about a more level playing field that, while it doesn’t appeal to me, doesn’t make me sick. Maybe historical warfare just hasn’t been put in the right context for me, but having to look into someone’s eyes as they die is entirely different from a firing squad execution or a sniper shot from a half-mile away or an artillery shell landing in your barracks. Those are cold-blooded. Those are impersonal. Inhuman. Either way, the museum was a beautiful tribute to the loss of Kragujevac, but I was glad to be out of there.
Before entering the museum, we had been met by a friend of Dennis’ currently living in Serbia, Cheryl. She had been married to a Serbian expatriate who had immigrated to the United States. They had planned to retire in Serbia. He would spend his summers building a house in the country-side. Unfortunately, he passed away in a fatal car accident before they could retire. However, Cheryl has maintained the house and uses it as a summer home with her mother (who is currently 91).
Cheryl spent the afternoon with us. We saw in person the large sculture commemorating the schoolchildren who were slaughtered in Kragujevac massacre (you can see it on the Wikipedia Webpage, or I will upload some pictures eventually). Additionally, she joined us for lunch at the Palisades restaurant across from the museum. The food at Palisades was almost as good, and plentiful, as Znak Pitanja and cost us only 1/10th of the price. Much better value.
After lunch, we were taxied back to the bus station and boarded the bus back to Belgrade. The ride back was much the same as the ride there – naptime. What little I did manage to see on the trip looked quite similar to the hillier parts of Minnesota. Time and time again, this area of the world reminds me of home and the fact that I won’t see it until August. C’est la vie. Such is the life of an artist. That being said, I am starting to get excited, and a little scared, for this summer. Canterbury will be an awesome opportunity and experience, but it will also be quite challenging. When I’ve been alone, I’ve noticed that my mind tends to wander toward speculation of the coming three months… I’ll be interested to see how I grow these next few months.
Back to the topic, Serbia. We arrived in Belgrade around 6:30 and got to the hotel at 7:00. After Lucas, Keegan, and I showered we met up with Stacia and Lynnette to get some food before meeting Brandon, Anna, and Briana. We wandered around Kneza Mihaila before finding a bakery and a coffee shop to eat at. After eating, we wandered towards Republic Square where we randomly met up with Katie. She had been waiting for Dennis and they were heading out to a small little dive bar. We decided, with permission, to tag along.
Katie took us to a small little bar called the Black Turtle. In the States its entrance would probably be considered pretty sketchy but here it felt pretty normal. There is a patio for the bar out in front of the building, but the entrance is marked only by an alleyway with a small green sign overhead. You turn into the alley, walk about ten or fifteen feet, walk down a stone staircase, and enter a smoke-filled little bar. It was great. Like most bars I’ve visited in Belgrade they didn’t carry any dark beer, but they did have carry a line of fruit beers. I only tried the blueberry, but they also had lemon and strawberry as flavors.
After entering the bar, myself and Lucas went back to the hotel to bring Brandon, Anna, Stacia, Lynnette, and Briana to the bar. Soon after we returned, Katie’s friend Dylan arrived. Dylan was originally going to meet up with us after Znak Pitanja, but due to the highly intoxicated nature of most of the group – and Katie – only Liz managed to meet him when he arrived at the hotel and walked Katie home. Anyways, Dylan showed up at the Black Turtle and the rest of us finally met him. He is teaching English in Serbia as the other Fulbright scholar to the country. He’s originally from New York City and a pretty cool kid. He majored in music and is looking toward a career in composition.
After about two rounds at the bar, Keegan and Lucas left to attempt to find Club Anderground where we had thought to party that night. I would have joined them, but was still nursing most of a beer. Either way, it didn’t really make a difference – they came back to the bar about twenty minutes later, unsuccessful.
It was about midnight when Keegan and Lucas returned to the Black Turtle, and the bar was winding down – last call had been about five minutes previous to their arrival. Belgrade has a new law that any bar beneath a residential complex must close at midnight…Katie say’s it’s a real shame as most of the good bars have been affected by this new rule.
We ended up leaving soon after and walked across the river to New Belgrade with Dylan, Katie, Stacia, Lynnette, Briana, Keegan and myself to explore the boat clubs. We started at the first one we saw. It was known as Olympic and that night was playing late 80’s, early 90’s punk rock. It was a fun time, but we left after a round to explore some more.
As we walked south along the Sava river, we passed many more clubs – most of them lifeless tonight. Eventually we came upon the club Freestylr. The music was bumping, lights were flashing, and it looked like a grand ole time…however there was a huge crowd waiting outside, it was past 1am, and we noticed a metal detector at the entrance to the boat – Keegan’s knife probably wouldn’t make it in. So we decided that we would come back later in the weekend or next weekend. We wandered north, back towards the bridge to Belgrade, and ended hopping on some small boat that was filled with smoke and pumping out turbofolk.
Turbofolk is an experience…Imagine traditional Serbian music – go look it up on youtube or something – then add a big-ass house beat underneath the stings, accordions, and woodwinds playing. Actually, don’t imagine it – go on youtube and look it up. It’s an experience.
Keegan, Lucas, and I left shortly after we arrived – I could barely breathe in there and have no idea how Keegan could manage! We headed back to the hotel, put on the local musicTV station, and passed out soon afterwards.
No comments:
Post a Comment