The drive south along the two-lane winding road that follows the Drina river Monday was relatively easy and exceptionally scenic. There was very little traffic and the drive took almost exactly 2 hours as expected. The only momentarily hair-raising part was when we were at a town where the road was being repaired and was reduced to one lane. Traffic was controlled by an automated signal. When our side turned green we were happily driving along when suddenly cars and big trucks started driving directly at us. Apparently the light on their side wasn’t working and they decided it was time to go. Jim was able to pull slightly over between traffic cones and wait for the cars to pass. Was mind boggling that even though the oncoming cars could see us none of them stopped to let us go by. Drivers here are not known for their patience or wisdom. Aside from that we enjoyed the drive, past farms, villages and wooded hills. Every time we went around a bend I would say, ‘it’s sooo pretty!’.
We arrived at our familiar ‘apartment Jovanović’, a stones throw (almost literally) from the Bosnian border, at 2 and as soon as we got out of the car Melisa and Zoran, our hosts, invited us into their first floor apartment for coffee and cake. This is our third time staying here, and Cedar stayed here as well and befriended their daughter who is a journalist in Belgrade. Last time we were here Milesa invited us in for coffee several times and they took us on an excursion to Tara National Park. This time she told me in advance they want to take us to their village in Bosnia across the river for a barbecue.
Their home is similar to so many homes here. There is one main modestly sized room with kitchen at one end, seating area at the other, and a dining table in between. Out front is a spacious covered porch.The house is spotless and there is no clutter.
Zoran is a retired border patrol officer and Milesa will retire from an office job in October. They both grew up in Bosnia during the Yugoslavia years and lived for 5 years in Srebrenica until the 90’s war forced them out. They built this house in Bajina Bašta and rent out the spacious upstairs apartment at the edge of town to tourists such as us. There is the intention of creating another apartment on the level above ours but it remains empty, open and unfinished. We don’t know if they have given up on ever completing it. They, like many people here, only make improvements when they have the money to pay for it rather than going into debt.
Neither of them speak English at all so we communicate using Serbian and Google Translate. After about an hour of Turkish coffee and homemade cake with berries from their garden in the village I tried tactfully to extricate ourselves. It’s very hard to suss out how not to leave too early and also not to stay too long. During our time together they said they wanted to take us to Srebrenica and made a plan to go the next day. They also said they would give us eggs from their chickens in the village. As we stood to leave Melissa gave us a plate with more pieces of cake, and another plate with freshly made savory pastries layered with eggs and cheeses.
We unloaded the car, got settled in our spic and span spacious two bedroom apartment with large balcony, then walked 25 minutes into town. We love the feel of this little city (population of town is about 9000, and the larger municipality has about 24,000). The town is surrounded by forested large hills. Tara National Park is just up the road a few miles. There is a large dam up the river and the hydro-electric plant has historically been one of the town’s main employers. From our house we hear roosters, sheep, birds, crickets and pigs, as well as lawnmowers and saws.
Our walk from the apartment to the town center takes us past a variety of neighborhoods. We begin by walking through a field next to the house, past another field where sheep graze, to a dead end road lined by Balkan style newish (15-20 years?) houses. The street has the feel of a sort of suburb (largely because of the wide nicely paved road in contrast to roads in the rest of town) but not at all like an American suburb. Many houses have large wood piles stacked out front, and outdoor cooking and seating areas, and flimsy home made garages, and laundry hanging from balconies, and other details that would not likely be to code in America.
Our route continues down a gravel alley that passes a chained up dog that looks placid until we get close at which time he leaps up and barks aggressively. We also pass a gravel yard where several semi trucks are parked, presumably owned by one of the residents. The next street is lined by houses a bit older and in various states of repair. Then we cross a street and walk behind brick houses that look like we imagine one might see in the older suburbs of England. Some of the wooden garages are partially collapsed. Another has cages for some sort of pigeons. Across the street is a large field and lumber yard that seems to be closed although currently there are some huge logs stacked there.
Next we follow a tiny road past a cemetery and then enter the town’s big park that has two large soccer fields, one for serious games and one for practice. The park also has a lot of outdoor exercise equipment (which Jim makes use of) that seems to get a lot of use. From there the path meanders through a playground area that sits next to a huge paved area where in summer there is a amusement park but the rest of the year it’s used for riding bikes and playing basketball. Following the path to its end one reaches town where I am again reminded I am in a foreign country. The urban architecture and layout is nothing like what I see in America. Cars park on the sidewalks (uneven and in disrepair) in front of mostly 4-6 story Yugoslavia era building that have shops on the first floor and apartments above. Scattered between some of the bigger buildings are tiny one story shops (flower sellers, eye doctor, markets, bakeries…). Small kiosks that sell candy, magazines, pop, cheap toys, phone cards and other small items are to be found on the sidewalks here and in all towns.
As we get closer to the center of town we see many cafes with outdoor seating, restaurants and a variety of larger stores that sell clothes, hardware, toys, etc. this street turns into a well used pedestrian mall at its far end and is complete with a fountain, playground, hotel and larger grocery store.
Especially in the evenings residents of the town are out and about along the whole route from the apartment to the center, strolling with friends, pushing strollers, supervising kids learning to ride bikes, playing soccer, drinking coffee, and generally enjoying each other and the evening. There is so little crime over here (aside from organized crime and corruption in the government) that people don’t have any need to think about safety for themselves or their kids. This reality is long gone from American cities and I mourn our loss. Life here feels more sane, more humane and in some ways more healthy than in urbanized and suburbanized America , despite the poor economy, lack of professional opportunities, traumatic history, and the physical hardships people face here. I know that in smaller towns in the U.S. one can still find something of the spirit and vibe I feel here and am grateful it still exists even if I rarely encounter it. I savor it here every day on our travels.
We found a place to eat we had not noticed before, and it’s no wonder we missed it. There is a sandwich board on the sidewalk but no sign at street level. We entered a long narrow hallway by the sign, went up some stairs and opened a door and entered the restaurant that opens to the street below. The tables each have a call button which is a great feature because here wait staff don’t check on guests very often. We had a delicious meal and liked it so much we went again 2 days later. Our very large meal was less than $20.
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