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Grandpa Drago was lucky, or unlucky (so to speak) to have his life tied up with his Serbian wife. He survived all the wars of the 1990s, walking the thin rope of conflict between Serbs and Croats like those acrobats with a long pole.
My brother was much worse: his wife went to “zenge” and he had to go back to Nis. Now once a year, she goes to her daughter’s birthday in Kutina.
Miraculously, these wars in Australia were unexpectedly peaceful. The people here were divided long before the unfortunate country collapsed. Each had their own church, association, shop, and even a settlement, where they felt at home.
For years, Croatian extremists occasionally broke the established order, but everything returned to “normal”. They were neighbors who love and hate each other at the same time. As often happens when people cannot do without each other.
When we arrived in Melbourne, we received instructions from our Serbs: feel free to say they are Serbs, but avoid the word “Yugoslav”. However, as a true merchant, I went to everyone from the “Chetniks” to the “Bosnians” and the “Yugoslavs”. I was well received everywhere, probably because I wisely avoided all discussions of politics.
There was only one incident while selling books at a “Brotherhood and Unity” party. A group of Croats threw a firecracker into the hall where the round was being played. Hiding under cover of darkness, they escaped down the road, smashing several windshields in the parking lot. It is the only “war conflict” that I remember.
But heck, even today, Grandpa Dragi can’t rest. When he comes to the bookstore on Thursdays to buy “Razbibriga” for his demanding wife, he always raises a touchy subject.
He knows the customer is “always right” so he wants to show me his anger for a while. It bothers you to have to regularly bring a Cyrillic crossword to your home. On the other hand, as a retiree in these times of crisis, you have to watch out for every dollar.
With his Croats, who at that time were having coffee in a nearby shopping center, he could not because he was a “mestizo”. And going to a Yugoslav, that does not make him proud.
In that mall, retirees gather at a fast food store on the top floor of the building. And here also the aforementioned order reigns. Serbs sit at their tables, Yugoslavs at others, and so on. There is no interference, except for a few pitches and of course gossip between them.
And it lasts for years. They love and hate at the same time. As I’ve said before.
This morning, Grandpa Drago asks me about the recent riots in Belgrade.
– I do not know the details, I only know that this is the beginning of a great malaise.
– Which, he asks, as briefly as he nervously twists the crossword.
– Well America …
He looked at me, under his eye, a little confused.
– Do you know a neighbor upstairs near you in Endever Hills (a settlement where Croats live) who has a big house, which he constantly brags about, so everyone he knows hates him?
“There are those,” he replied, again briefly, like smart people do.
– And imagine what will happen when the bank comes and sells your house. Due to restrictions, he does not go to work, does not pay the loan and bought the house without a single dollar of savings.
He still looks at me confused and I continue my analysis.
– That is happening with the United States, they printed as much money as they needed, they started numerous wars, and now is the time to pay off all those debts. That is why there will be riots.
Grandpa Drago leaves in a hurry, obviously unsatisfied with my answer. He couldn’t tease me this time either.
I wonder what he comes up with for next Thursday.
George Petrovic, Melbourne, Australia
Dear readers, “Politika” has revived the column “My life abroad”. It is primarily intended for those of you living outside Serbia, around the world, who have been taken through life to new unknown places and countries.
We hope you’ve noticed we’ve changed a bit in the meantime. We sewed a new, more comfortable and comfortable digital suit, but we are still the right address where you can send your letters, reports, notes and photos.
Write us how you are abroad or in your new homeland. What does Serbia look like when you look at it from Vancouver, Oslo or Melbourne? Is there nostalgia for your new directions?
And our address is [email protected]
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