So I went and saw the new James Bond movie this week, the night after it opened here in Serbia. It was in a huge room and the place was packed.
The movie was quite excellent overall, although still no match for the Bourne series if you ask me... And in fact there were quite a number of quasi-blatant ripoffs from the Matt Damon movies that my sharp eye caught, but that's not really the point... Daniel Craig is pimp, I've liked him since Layer Cake, but then again I thought that everything he did in this movie could have been done just as well if not better by Clive Owen. Owen was my personal choice to be the next Bond, but they didn't pick him allegedly because he would be "too rough" and rugged as the next Bond... And yet now we have the new movie and all Bond does is be rugged and kick ass. I digress, however...
Although the movie was fun in and of itself, watching it with an audience of Serbs made things a little more educational. The scene where Bond arrives in Montenegro in particular was the highlight... He arrives, in true Bond fasion, into Montenegro on a luxury high speed train, or TGV as they call it in France. Needless to say, this scene was met with some loud, um, appreciation from the audience. And by appreciation I mean uncontrollable howls of laughter. Fun times. It is now my goal in life to find this mythical high speed train in Montenegro and ride it like Bond.
The Bond movie was filled with other little-known factoids about Montenegro. The streets are spotlessly clean, clear, the weather is stunning, and the architecture is all in pristine condition. Czech Republic ain't got SHIT on Montenegro, yo. The Policija zip around in glistening Mercedes and Audis that are of course spotlessly clean and unscathed (and even have the same set of all four tires on each one.... Take THAT, Belgrade!). Said cops themselves all have immaculate uniforms worthy of a Marine Corps parade. I don't think hardass Belgrade cops can compete with that shit.
At least they got the cyrillic signs everywhere correct, as far as I can tell. They threw in a few "kafanas" into some scenes and exits doors are correctly labeled "Izlaz" instead of plain old EXIT, so I guess that's at least a little bit of detail they could have just as easily skipped without your average dumb American audience-goer knowing any difference.
Later in the week I was taken to a bar with some friends. The place was called KST, which is the acronym for some university faculty section or something related that I can't recall right at this moment. It was deep in the bowels of the basement of the academic building it's named after, which was prety cool in and of itself. Hey, I woulda gone to class more often in the US if I'd known there were bitching clubs hidden away just a few floors down. Actually, no I wouldn't have, who am I kidding...
Anyways, the place itself wasn't anything to write home about, basically your standard dive bar formula. Loud music, cheap drinks, cramped dirty quarters, mix and shake and voila. That was upon first impression...
What made the experience a tad more unique was the music and the crowd there. It was apparently oldies night at this place. They played one classic after another of American rock music from the 50s, 60s, and 70s. Led Zeppelin, the Beatles, the Stones, the Doors, Prestley, the Beach Boys, Creedence, Crosby Stills Nash Young, Jefferson Airplane, Hendrix, Janis Joplin, Fleetwood Mac, etc etc etc etc etc etc. Absolutely great music selection, as far as I was concerned...
However where it got a little funky with me was seeing pretty much every young Serb person in the place LOSE THEIR SHIT over the music. They were busting moves like there was no tomorow... I enjoy classic rock and oldies more than most, but it has never even OCCURRED to me to try to dance to any of it. Not knocking it or anything, it's just honestly an idea that's never entered my mind. I mean how do you dance to Hendrix?!
Imagine, if you will, a prom night video from the 1950s, with all the kiddies bee-bopping and doing the twist and all that other silly shit (sorry Baby Boomers, but it was just silly.). Now put them crazy dancing kids in a smoky night club, dress them all up in the latest Euro-sexy-bitch look with tight pants, halter tops and high heel boots and some aviator glasses just for good measure(if you've seen pics of Belgrade girls you know the style I'm talking about)... Or even better, bearded/grungy, rough-looking Serb guys in leather outfits who look like they just came back from a Metallica or Slayer concert. Of course, ubiquitous cigarettes everywhere. ALL OF THEM doing "the twist" and other crazy shit that I didn't even really believe my parents ACTUALLY did back in the day. Set that to the Beach Boys "Surfing USA" , take a picture and put in next to "incongruous" in the dictionary.
Who needs drugs when reality can be this nuts, eh?
Sunday, November 26, 2006
Friday, November 17, 2006
Gourmandise incontrollable
If my memory serves correctly, doesn't conventional wisdom hold that you should not eat anything bigger than your head?
What about bigger than, say, the whole circumference of my torso? Does the same rule apply?
In an ambitious, drunken, foolhardy and almost certainly poor decision in the longterm (we'll worry about it tomorow, or as Serbs would say... JEBIGA, not gonna translate that one), I took on the challenge tonight of eating a "maxi gurmanska pljeskavica". Literally this translates to (I think) "maximum-sized gourmet (meaning that pork, ham, cheese, fat Serbian chef love, deliciousness, grease and various other healthy ingredients are mixed into the beef patty) hamburger". That's the literal translation... I think that, however, a more accurate translation would be "two lost years of your life expectancy".
It was utterly worth it. I think. I hope. I'm not sure actually. I don't really remember too much, I guess it was kind of like childbirth. I actually blacked out during some parts of the epic battle with the beast. Look at the size of the chair your ass is sitting on, and you'll get a vague idea of how monstrously huge (and totally frigging cowabunga awesome) this thing was. It was from a streetside stand down in Skardalija called Loki, which is reputed- no, well known actually- as by far the best place to eat pljieskavica and other slaughtered animal meat products. Hey, humans didn't fight their way to the top of the food chain for nothing. Like I said before, if you're vegetarian, Serbia is NOT the place for you.
Anyways the pljieskavica basically molested me like a [CENSORED FOR GRANDMA], but it was absolutely worth it. My Serbian co-horts were thoroughly impressed by my performance. I'm not a huge eater in general but tonight I guess I lived up to everyone's stereotypes of what an American apetite is. That's actually kind of embarrassing, really, but hey, who am I to back down from a meat-eating challenge?
So I'm off to bed now with the knowledge that I've paid with two years of my life tonight, and I'm not even sorry. We all gotta die sometime...
Adieu
What about bigger than, say, the whole circumference of my torso? Does the same rule apply?
In an ambitious, drunken, foolhardy and almost certainly poor decision in the longterm (we'll worry about it tomorow, or as Serbs would say... JEBIGA, not gonna translate that one), I took on the challenge tonight of eating a "maxi gurmanska pljeskavica". Literally this translates to (I think) "maximum-sized gourmet (meaning that pork, ham, cheese, fat Serbian chef love, deliciousness, grease and various other healthy ingredients are mixed into the beef patty) hamburger". That's the literal translation... I think that, however, a more accurate translation would be "two lost years of your life expectancy".
It was utterly worth it. I think. I hope. I'm not sure actually. I don't really remember too much, I guess it was kind of like childbirth. I actually blacked out during some parts of the epic battle with the beast. Look at the size of the chair your ass is sitting on, and you'll get a vague idea of how monstrously huge (and totally frigging cowabunga awesome) this thing was. It was from a streetside stand down in Skardalija called Loki, which is reputed- no, well known actually- as by far the best place to eat pljieskavica and other slaughtered animal meat products. Hey, humans didn't fight their way to the top of the food chain for nothing. Like I said before, if you're vegetarian, Serbia is NOT the place for you.
Anyways the pljieskavica basically molested me like a [CENSORED FOR GRANDMA], but it was absolutely worth it. My Serbian co-horts were thoroughly impressed by my performance. I'm not a huge eater in general but tonight I guess I lived up to everyone's stereotypes of what an American apetite is. That's actually kind of embarrassing, really, but hey, who am I to back down from a meat-eating challenge?
So I'm off to bed now with the knowledge that I've paid with two years of my life tonight, and I'm not even sorry. We all gotta die sometime...
Adieu
Saturday, November 11, 2006
Belgrade is littered with small convenience stands located on just about every corner. They sell everything from cigarettes to drinks to snacks to cellphone minutes. They're called "shtampas" (not correct spelling).
So the one just 10 feet from our door sells condoms. They sell *exactly* and *exclusively* two kinds of condoms:
- EXTRA SAFE
- ULTRA THIN
Tough choice, eh? Seriously, think about that one for a bit.
So the one just 10 feet from our door sells condoms. They sell *exactly* and *exclusively* two kinds of condoms:
- EXTRA SAFE
- ULTRA THIN
Tough choice, eh? Seriously, think about that one for a bit.
Friday, November 10, 2006
Yes, I'm still alive, quit your bitching
So clearly I was a little slow about working the blog since my arrival in Belgrade. Meh well, better late than never I suppose… Perhaps it’s better this way, as first impressions have been tempered by time and I have had a chance to experience the place a little more in depth.
After my basically uneventful and hassle-free arrival (no lost luggage, met up with my roommate at the airport just fine, etc…) I moved into my small but adequate apartment and got to work adjusting to the city. Over the past three weeks I have made tons of new friends, explored many of the exciting things in Belgrade, had a chance to get out of the centre itself into various suburbs, and I’m still just getting started.
Belgrade itself is fascinating and (at least to me) really cool. It is bigger than I expected, and yet far more compact and concentrated than I initially thought. Living in the center, this is a boon; it literally never takes more than 15-20 minutes of walking to get almost anywhere I want to go here. It also makes for a really interesting place to explore. It’s easy to keep one’s bearings since landmarks are never really far from each other, and there are countless small alleys, underground passages, and various other paths to get to wherever you’re going.
What I like most about the place is how packed with detail everything is, because of this relative compactness. People complain about the city looking run-down, but I would describe it as lived-in instead. Every street is packed with tons of small shops of every type, the sidewalks are almost always bustling with people going about their daily business (or just wandering…) at all hours of the day or night, parked cars swarm all over the sidewalk in other places, countless buses, trams and trolleys race around frenetically everywhere while suicidal drivers in tiny Yugos and Opals drive like their lives depend on their getting somewhere RIGHT NOW GODDAMMIT (although that sounds different in Srpski)… Elsewhere, graffiti, posters, signs and random artwork fill almost every free space on every wall, stray cats and dogs laze around looking for some trouble to get into (the plus side of stray critters? I have not seen a single rat so far in Belgrade)… People often describe Belgrade as “dynamic”, but that’s a rather vague and empty descriptor. A few hours spent strolling the streets here, however, makes it clear what is meant by this; every inch of this city seems to teem with life of some sort, there is always something interesting going on, and oftentimes something may be happening right around the corner and you’d have no clue if you didn’t look into it.
This is in fact my second favorite thing about the city, the fact that it is packed with secrets. Well, at least they seem like secrets to my foreign ass; all the locals seem to know the place inside and out. Nonetheless, I’ve lost count of the number of places I’ve been taken to (key word) that I would absolutely never have been able to find unless someone took me there. Secret bars, clubs, parties, even stores… They hide away in dark alleyways that just scream “enter here for rape, sucka”, on rooftops just a few floors above your head, in little courtyards that seemed empty and quiet from the street… Discovering these little secrets is always a treat. I recall waiting with a friend to meet up with some people who would take us to a party… That turned out to be on the rooftop right above our head, thunderously loud and drunken, and yet I didn’t have the slightest clue it was there just minutes beforehand while sitting in the street…
Other times I’ve been to a small party deep within an actual dark, dungeon-like wine cellar (complete with a crazy old drunk Serb winemaker living it up with the young’ins), a club built within what appeared to be a natural cave (think the bat-cave with Madonna, on ecstacy…), or even a snazzy New York-style art exhibition straight out of Sex and the City or something. Serbs are party animals and they definitely know how to pick cool locations for their rabble-rousing…
The food has also been *extremely* to my liking, another great surprise. It’s definitely not for everybody, but I feel like I’ve found meat-eating nirvana… Serbian burger (pljeskavica) is pretty much the greatest thing I’ve ever had and the addiction shows no signs of slowing down. I also can’t describe how good the Giros are without using too many expletives, so I’ll just refrain all around. Death by clogged arteries, how very… American, I guess. Go figure, huh? I go halfway across the world to die of the same shit most Americans will.
If not that, then it’ll be the smoke here… I knew it was going to be bad, I had braced myself mentally, and I thought my upbringing around the French would have provided all the necessary training in this field, but HOLY BATSHIT HELL are Serbs hardcore about their smoking… Last weekend was a humbling experience, as my eyes actually started to burn just like with tear gas in one particularly stifling, smoked-out underground dungeon… The pollution in the city is also a good bit worse than I expected. On many evenings you can easily see a sort of thick haze lying over the city, and sometimes even taste it… I thought these things wouldn’t bother my iron lungs and yet I sit here with a hacking cough writing this. Comes with the territory, I guess.
By far the greatest thing about Belgrade, though, is the people. Although Serbs tend to be just a *tad* bit grouchy in their day-to-day life (and who can blame them, they’ve been through rough times and life isn’t always easy in this city), every single person I have gotten to know on a personal has been nothing but exceptionally friendly with me. I can largely generalize and say that I find Serbs to be particularly clever and “switched-on” people. I won’t even get started on the women in this city, because I know I will just get carried away and that’s a whole other blog right there, and their reputation probably precedes them anyway, so I’ll just confirm the rumors and leave it at that. Yes, the women of Belgrade are unbelievable. It’s got to be something in the water…
I guess that’s it for now… Hopefully I’ll be updating this more often now so that the entries aren’t so massive.
Adieu
After my basically uneventful and hassle-free arrival (no lost luggage, met up with my roommate at the airport just fine, etc…) I moved into my small but adequate apartment and got to work adjusting to the city. Over the past three weeks I have made tons of new friends, explored many of the exciting things in Belgrade, had a chance to get out of the centre itself into various suburbs, and I’m still just getting started.
Belgrade itself is fascinating and (at least to me) really cool. It is bigger than I expected, and yet far more compact and concentrated than I initially thought. Living in the center, this is a boon; it literally never takes more than 15-20 minutes of walking to get almost anywhere I want to go here. It also makes for a really interesting place to explore. It’s easy to keep one’s bearings since landmarks are never really far from each other, and there are countless small alleys, underground passages, and various other paths to get to wherever you’re going.
What I like most about the place is how packed with detail everything is, because of this relative compactness. People complain about the city looking run-down, but I would describe it as lived-in instead. Every street is packed with tons of small shops of every type, the sidewalks are almost always bustling with people going about their daily business (or just wandering…) at all hours of the day or night, parked cars swarm all over the sidewalk in other places, countless buses, trams and trolleys race around frenetically everywhere while suicidal drivers in tiny Yugos and Opals drive like their lives depend on their getting somewhere RIGHT NOW GODDAMMIT (although that sounds different in Srpski)… Elsewhere, graffiti, posters, signs and random artwork fill almost every free space on every wall, stray cats and dogs laze around looking for some trouble to get into (the plus side of stray critters? I have not seen a single rat so far in Belgrade)… People often describe Belgrade as “dynamic”, but that’s a rather vague and empty descriptor. A few hours spent strolling the streets here, however, makes it clear what is meant by this; every inch of this city seems to teem with life of some sort, there is always something interesting going on, and oftentimes something may be happening right around the corner and you’d have no clue if you didn’t look into it.
This is in fact my second favorite thing about the city, the fact that it is packed with secrets. Well, at least they seem like secrets to my foreign ass; all the locals seem to know the place inside and out. Nonetheless, I’ve lost count of the number of places I’ve been taken to (key word) that I would absolutely never have been able to find unless someone took me there. Secret bars, clubs, parties, even stores… They hide away in dark alleyways that just scream “enter here for rape, sucka”, on rooftops just a few floors above your head, in little courtyards that seemed empty and quiet from the street… Discovering these little secrets is always a treat. I recall waiting with a friend to meet up with some people who would take us to a party… That turned out to be on the rooftop right above our head, thunderously loud and drunken, and yet I didn’t have the slightest clue it was there just minutes beforehand while sitting in the street…
Other times I’ve been to a small party deep within an actual dark, dungeon-like wine cellar (complete with a crazy old drunk Serb winemaker living it up with the young’ins), a club built within what appeared to be a natural cave (think the bat-cave with Madonna, on ecstacy…), or even a snazzy New York-style art exhibition straight out of Sex and the City or something. Serbs are party animals and they definitely know how to pick cool locations for their rabble-rousing…
The food has also been *extremely* to my liking, another great surprise. It’s definitely not for everybody, but I feel like I’ve found meat-eating nirvana… Serbian burger (pljeskavica) is pretty much the greatest thing I’ve ever had and the addiction shows no signs of slowing down. I also can’t describe how good the Giros are without using too many expletives, so I’ll just refrain all around. Death by clogged arteries, how very… American, I guess. Go figure, huh? I go halfway across the world to die of the same shit most Americans will.
If not that, then it’ll be the smoke here… I knew it was going to be bad, I had braced myself mentally, and I thought my upbringing around the French would have provided all the necessary training in this field, but HOLY BATSHIT HELL are Serbs hardcore about their smoking… Last weekend was a humbling experience, as my eyes actually started to burn just like with tear gas in one particularly stifling, smoked-out underground dungeon… The pollution in the city is also a good bit worse than I expected. On many evenings you can easily see a sort of thick haze lying over the city, and sometimes even taste it… I thought these things wouldn’t bother my iron lungs and yet I sit here with a hacking cough writing this. Comes with the territory, I guess.
By far the greatest thing about Belgrade, though, is the people. Although Serbs tend to be just a *tad* bit grouchy in their day-to-day life (and who can blame them, they’ve been through rough times and life isn’t always easy in this city), every single person I have gotten to know on a personal has been nothing but exceptionally friendly with me. I can largely generalize and say that I find Serbs to be particularly clever and “switched-on” people. I won’t even get started on the women in this city, because I know I will just get carried away and that’s a whole other blog right there, and their reputation probably precedes them anyway, so I’ll just confirm the rumors and leave it at that. Yes, the women of Belgrade are unbelievable. It’s got to be something in the water…
I guess that’s it for now… Hopefully I’ll be updating this more often now so that the entries aren’t so massive.
Adieu
Voila, Voila, je suis arrive...
So at long last, after almost a year of daydreaming and planning and saving and preparing and learning and working and okyougetheidea, I am FINALLY in Belgrade. It was a long time coming…
The actual traveling portion of it all went off without a hitch, thankfully. My flights were more or less on time and my luggage didn’t get lost. The 1h20minflight from Zurich to Belgrade was when things started to get interesting. I knew I was finally getting close to my destination, and so was more alert to the people around me and what was going on. After battling my way through the, um, “line” to get onto the plane (and I use that term *very* loosely), I boarded and found my seat, strapped myself in, and noted that the entire plane, people, clothes, seats, bags… everything smelled like smoke. Shoulda seen that one coming… I had a window seat and a nice, gentle-looking old man sat down in the isle seat next to me. After settling in, the nice old man then proceeded to pull out a big’ol porno mag that he then read with great attention and focus for the rest of the flight. Mmmmmmkay then.
The landing in Belgrade took us over fields as far as the eye can see, with just a small glimpse of Belgrade in the distance, hazy and grey and bright looking. The Swiss pilots executed what was easily the softest, cleanest landing I have ever experienced in a passenger plane… Followed immediately by the fastest STOOOOP I have ever seen a passenger plane make. Seriously, we went from like 160 to 0 in about 2 seconds flat. I had no idea passenger planes could even do that. Then they actually turned the plane around completely, right there on the runway, and taxied back to the head of the strip. I then realized this peculiar landing was a necessity born of “special” airport design. Oh well…
After working my way through the arrival gauntlet (including walking past a small airport café where I actually had to *squint* through a cloud of smoke to spot the diners inside… I thought clouds of smoke like that only existed in the movies), I grabbed my luggage with no hassles and made my way out to the arrival hall, where my new roommate and I found each other with no problems, called a cab and hopped in to head to the city.
The drive into the city was nothing special, although it was a gorgeous day to be arriving in the city. This was a stark contrast to the day I left DC, easily one of the grimmest and grayest afternoons I had experienced there in a long time. Fitting, I suppose. We got to the apartment, settled in for a bit, and then went walking all around the city.
I’ll write about my impressions when I’ve had time to absorb things a bit more.
Adieu
(This was written the day after I arrived in Belgrade, although for practical purposes I’ve only been able to update it into the blog now, hence the goofy entry dates)
The actual traveling portion of it all went off without a hitch, thankfully. My flights were more or less on time and my luggage didn’t get lost. The 1h20minflight from Zurich to Belgrade was when things started to get interesting. I knew I was finally getting close to my destination, and so was more alert to the people around me and what was going on. After battling my way through the, um, “line” to get onto the plane (and I use that term *very* loosely), I boarded and found my seat, strapped myself in, and noted that the entire plane, people, clothes, seats, bags… everything smelled like smoke. Shoulda seen that one coming… I had a window seat and a nice, gentle-looking old man sat down in the isle seat next to me. After settling in, the nice old man then proceeded to pull out a big’ol porno mag that he then read with great attention and focus for the rest of the flight. Mmmmmmkay then.
The landing in Belgrade took us over fields as far as the eye can see, with just a small glimpse of Belgrade in the distance, hazy and grey and bright looking. The Swiss pilots executed what was easily the softest, cleanest landing I have ever experienced in a passenger plane… Followed immediately by the fastest STOOOOP I have ever seen a passenger plane make. Seriously, we went from like 160 to 0 in about 2 seconds flat. I had no idea passenger planes could even do that. Then they actually turned the plane around completely, right there on the runway, and taxied back to the head of the strip. I then realized this peculiar landing was a necessity born of “special” airport design. Oh well…
After working my way through the arrival gauntlet (including walking past a small airport café where I actually had to *squint* through a cloud of smoke to spot the diners inside… I thought clouds of smoke like that only existed in the movies), I grabbed my luggage with no hassles and made my way out to the arrival hall, where my new roommate and I found each other with no problems, called a cab and hopped in to head to the city.
The drive into the city was nothing special, although it was a gorgeous day to be arriving in the city. This was a stark contrast to the day I left DC, easily one of the grimmest and grayest afternoons I had experienced there in a long time. Fitting, I suppose. We got to the apartment, settled in for a bit, and then went walking all around the city.
I’ll write about my impressions when I’ve had time to absorb things a bit more.
Adieu
(This was written the day after I arrived in Belgrade, although for practical purposes I’ve only been able to update it into the blog now, hence the goofy entry dates)
Wednesday, October 04, 2006
Well, I'm in Austin now. There isn't a whole lot to write about... All my flights on the way over were on time and I got here without a hitch, which is always nice. The weather here is ideal. Did some shopping yesterday, got a huge-ass new suitcasefor thetrip. Other than that... All that's left to do now is count the days.
Tuesday, September 26, 2006
Assis dans un apartement vide.
So here we are at last, with my very own blog...
I suppose in the long run this will be Serbia-related, but who knows. At the very least, it's certainly a useful way to keep family and friends updated on my life.
At the moment I'm sitting in an almost completely emtpied apartment. My mother was here this past week helping me figure out storage and pack up and all that sorta fun stuff. Man was it fun, there's nothing as exciting as putting stuff in boxes all day long, then lifting those boxes and hauling them all around town, then rinsing and repeating! Yeah... Fun like the dentist's office. But we got it done, somewhat to my astonishment.
I'm still not used to walking into the place and not having *any* of the stuff I've had around for the better part of two years lying about, the usual mess, etc. It really drives the point home that I'm just about done with Washington, DC. Weirdly enough, I think I like this whole Spartan-Bushido-Dojo (it sounds better than "I got no stuff") style of apartment decor. My girlfriend strongly disagrees.
In a few days I'll be heading to Austin, TX, to housesit for my mom for about 10 days, and then I'm back here again for just a handful of days to really wrap up the last few things, close up the storage for good, hand off the keys to the apartment, and then *finally*... I'm off to Serbia, on October 17. It's about damn time.
It was easy to daydream about going to someplace different and new everyday when I was stuck in my dreary office. The reality of packing up everything and moving to a place where I don't know the language, a single person, or anything else for that matter, is a little more, um, complicated, both logistically and emotionally. I knew, of course, that it would be, and I'm glad that as I get closer to D-Day here I'm not finding myself doubting my decision.
Why Serbia? I really don't know. I can't give specific reasons, a list, measured and logical facts or anything like that; it just feels right. I'm not sure it will even really matter when I get there. What matters more is that I know leaving DC is the right thing to do. I've been here, more or less directly, for 6 years now. That's, uhhhh (smell the burning calories as I try to do math) probably twice as long as I've lived in any other single place. You could say it was my first attempt at "taking roots" in a given place, trying to stick out friendsihps and relationships and jobs and yadda yadda yadda. Before that, it was always time to pick up and leave every 2-3 years, a lifestyle you get used to (or addicted to? Jury's still out on that one).
Looking back, I can't say DC treated me particularly well. In the interest of looking foward vs. backwards, I'm not going to waste time on it all, but suffice to say I'm not really sad to be leaving at all. I worried (or hoped?) for awhile that getting closer to leaving would sort of drive home some kind or realization or epiphany, that hey, life ain't so bad here, and that I'd somehow get sucked into staying here longer. I'm glad to see that is not the case, but in fact quite the opposite.
At this point, I cannot *wait* to get to Belgrade. I've been planning all of this for a long time now, and I've been slower to act on it than I initially imagined, but now that it's almost here I can practically taste all the beer and meat I plan to consume there. Through a lucky and utterly serendipidous turn of fate, I have managed to find another guy just about my age, from the US, *also* going to Belgrade, for reasons as fuzzy and vague as mine. Very fortunate, and very bizarre, I mean really, what are the odds? Either way I must say I'm quite glad to have been put in touch with him. He, however, just arrived in Belgrade about a week ago and has been very busy updating his own blog with pictures and overall reports of how fricking awesome everything seems. Naturally, this makes being stuck here in an empty apartment, counting the days, that much more difficult. I guess I should be using this time to practice my Serbian more... Yeaaaaah... Homework was never my forte.
On that note, I'm seeing that this (only second!) entry is absurdly long, so I'm gonna stop there.
Adieu.
I suppose in the long run this will be Serbia-related, but who knows. At the very least, it's certainly a useful way to keep family and friends updated on my life.
At the moment I'm sitting in an almost completely emtpied apartment. My mother was here this past week helping me figure out storage and pack up and all that sorta fun stuff. Man was it fun, there's nothing as exciting as putting stuff in boxes all day long, then lifting those boxes and hauling them all around town, then rinsing and repeating! Yeah... Fun like the dentist's office. But we got it done, somewhat to my astonishment.
I'm still not used to walking into the place and not having *any* of the stuff I've had around for the better part of two years lying about, the usual mess, etc. It really drives the point home that I'm just about done with Washington, DC. Weirdly enough, I think I like this whole Spartan-Bushido-Dojo (it sounds better than "I got no stuff") style of apartment decor. My girlfriend strongly disagrees.
In a few days I'll be heading to Austin, TX, to housesit for my mom for about 10 days, and then I'm back here again for just a handful of days to really wrap up the last few things, close up the storage for good, hand off the keys to the apartment, and then *finally*... I'm off to Serbia, on October 17. It's about damn time.
It was easy to daydream about going to someplace different and new everyday when I was stuck in my dreary office. The reality of packing up everything and moving to a place where I don't know the language, a single person, or anything else for that matter, is a little more, um, complicated, both logistically and emotionally. I knew, of course, that it would be, and I'm glad that as I get closer to D-Day here I'm not finding myself doubting my decision.
Why Serbia? I really don't know. I can't give specific reasons, a list, measured and logical facts or anything like that; it just feels right. I'm not sure it will even really matter when I get there. What matters more is that I know leaving DC is the right thing to do. I've been here, more or less directly, for 6 years now. That's, uhhhh (smell the burning calories as I try to do math) probably twice as long as I've lived in any other single place. You could say it was my first attempt at "taking roots" in a given place, trying to stick out friendsihps and relationships and jobs and yadda yadda yadda. Before that, it was always time to pick up and leave every 2-3 years, a lifestyle you get used to (or addicted to? Jury's still out on that one).
Looking back, I can't say DC treated me particularly well. In the interest of looking foward vs. backwards, I'm not going to waste time on it all, but suffice to say I'm not really sad to be leaving at all. I worried (or hoped?) for awhile that getting closer to leaving would sort of drive home some kind or realization or epiphany, that hey, life ain't so bad here, and that I'd somehow get sucked into staying here longer. I'm glad to see that is not the case, but in fact quite the opposite.
At this point, I cannot *wait* to get to Belgrade. I've been planning all of this for a long time now, and I've been slower to act on it than I initially imagined, but now that it's almost here I can practically taste all the beer and meat I plan to consume there. Through a lucky and utterly serendipidous turn of fate, I have managed to find another guy just about my age, from the US, *also* going to Belgrade, for reasons as fuzzy and vague as mine. Very fortunate, and very bizarre, I mean really, what are the odds? Either way I must say I'm quite glad to have been put in touch with him. He, however, just arrived in Belgrade about a week ago and has been very busy updating his own blog with pictures and overall reports of how fricking awesome everything seems. Naturally, this makes being stuck here in an empty apartment, counting the days, that much more difficult. I guess I should be using this time to practice my Serbian more... Yeaaaaah... Homework was never my forte.
On that note, I'm seeing that this (only second!) entry is absurdly long, so I'm gonna stop there.
Adieu.
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