A Night Train from Bar to Belgrade, Yugoslavia
26 September, 1998
I found my seat on the train back to Belgrade from Bar, however there was someone sitting in it. I prefer a window seat and had paid for a reservation for one, so I asked him to move. I found out that he spoke English and we started talking. His name was Miroslav Zigic.
It turns out that I was the first English speaking person that he had ever met. He asked me how good his English was, and I told him it was very good. He had never taken a class in it, but had learned through books and listening to the radio.
I found out that he was 26 and was from Plitvice, Croatia, but lived in Belgrade. He has been living there since 1996 and hates it. He went there as he and his sister were forced to flee Croatia because of the war between the Serbs and Croats. They were ethnic Serbs. This happened even though they were third generation Croatians and he had even served in the Croatian Army. They had lost a lot of family members as well as property during the war.
He told me that he had hopes of immigrating to either the USA or Australia. Since he was displaced because of the war, he was an "official refugee". He even showed me his Refugee Card, issued by the United Nations. He said that he and his girlfriend we both trying to go to the same place, but since they were not married, that could not be assured (she was from Sarajavo, Bosnia and in the same situation).
He also wanted to live someplace where he would have a passport that would let him visit Croatia again. When he fled Croatia, his passport and identity papers were taken from him. The Croats did that to all the Serbs that left so they couldn’t return.
He spent the summer working as a waiter in a resort off the coast of Bar and was now returning to Belgrade for university again. He was dreading returning to Belgrade and told me that if there was anyway he could leave, he would.
He said that in Belgrade, there was no future for him, or anyone.. The UN put him in a university when he arrived, but even after he finishes, he said that there is little opportunity to make a decent living. He said that his sister runs her own daycare and only makes 500DM per month, and that was a lot of money for Belgrade. He wanted to live someplace where he could work hard and be rewarded for his work (financially).
He wanted to know all about America. He wanted me to tell him what a great place it was and about the different parts of it he had heard of. He also mentioned to me many of the stereotypes of how people think of America. He mentioned that if he was able to get to the USA to live, he wanted to buy a Jeep Wrangler, he said that Levi’s are his favorite jeans, he told me that he and his girlfriend go to McDonalds a lot for ice cream, etc., and continued on with a few more stereotypes.
He also was very interested in what is said about the history of Croatia in my Lonely Planet guidebook. He read it and told me that it was very accurate.
We ended up talking the entire 8-hour train ride. When we pulled into Belgrade, I purchased my ticket to Thessaloniki (Greece), then he gave me a brief tour of the city. We parted ways at 10am. He had to go home and go to bed, and I was continuing my visit to Belgrade. Unfortunately, we didn’t have a way to keep in touch. He didn’t have an email address (he told me that is it rare for people to have computers (much less internet access) in Yugoslavia), nor did he know where the university would have him living. I gave him an address to contact me through in the USA, but I doubt if we will ever see eachother again. However, it was one of the best experiences of my trip.
*****************************Update******************************
I received an email from him in October 1999, the first I’ve heard from him since we parted ways in Sept 98. He survived the bombing of Yugoslavia and is still trying to immigrate out of that country. We try to email once a month or so.
Budapest Metro
20 July 1998
I was on the Budapest Metro and had my map of the city out and was trying to find where to get off for a certain museum. A lady of about 70 years old sat next to me and started talking to me in Hungarian. I told her that I didn't speak that language, so she pointed to the map (it had the Hungarian names of museum as well as English names on it). I pointed to the museum I was going to. She then pointed to where I should get off the Metro and also made a line with her finger of how I was to get to the museum. When we got to the stop, before I had a chance to get up, she grabbed my arm and was signaling that that was where I was to leave the train. That was the first day I was in Budapest and was just the beginning of my learning how nice the Hungarian people were.
Sveti Konstantin, Bulgaria
23 June 1998
This experience is a bit different, as I didn’t get to know the person well, but I will never forget her actions. Before you read this, here is something you need to know in order for this experience to make sense to you…..In Bulgaria, gypsies torture bears into submission and make them dance when music is played for tips. If the bear doesn’t dance at first (after being trained), they whip it and pull on the spiked collar until it does. It is very cruel and the Bulgarians don’t like it at all. Read on…
I tried a different place in the resort for a light lunch today (a sandwich and tea) and was served by a young Bulgarian woman (she was about 20) who called herself Daisy. Her English was good and she was an excellent waitress. As I was enjoying my lunch, I noticed a bear walking by. I flagged Daisy and said to her "Why is there a bear walking by?" She said "It’s something that gypsies do for money. It is very cruel. Don’t look at it or the gypsies that are with it." Then, they began playing music and the bear got up on its hind legs and started to dance. Instantly Daisy went over and started telling them off in Bulgarian, and pointing with her finger for them to leave. She told them off for about 2 minutes and they went on their way (she was still telling them off as they were leaving). I don’t understand Bulgarian, however, I did get a sense of what she was saying, and said to myself (forgive me for such an American phrase) "You go, girl." They left and she apologized to the patrons for the way she talked to the gypsies. To me, Daisy is definitely a memorable person for her spunk and willing to stand up for what she felt is right.
Sveti Konstantin, Bulgaria
21 June 1998
I was looking for a place in the resort to have dinner. I read a few menus and, as I was reading one, the waiter came up to me and said "Eat here." Thinking that that might be the only English he knew, I asked him if he spoke English. He said "But of course," so I sat down for dinner. He recommended Kavarma, a Bulgarian dish, and I had it. It was FANTASTIC! It wasn’t busy, so we talked a bit.
His name was Ivan, he was 28, and was from Varna. He said that he waits tables year round, spending his summers working at beach resorts, and winters working at ski resorts. He said that he works only in places that cater to foreigners (mainly Brits and Germans) as that is where good money is to be made (the tips he gets in hard currency per year are a lot more than he makes in salary). He speaks Bulgarian, Russian, German, and English. He had to learn Russian in school for 10 years under communism, and told me his Russian is so good that Russians think he is really from Russia. He learned German and English by hiring a tutor so that he could work at the above mentioned type of resorts.
He said that he would like to leave Bulgaria and work elsewhere, as well as travel and see what the rest of the world is like. However, Bulgarians are still restricted by their government as to where they can travel. The only places Bulgarians don’t need a visa to visit are Macedonia and Yugoslavia. Also, obtaining a visa to visit anywhere is very hard for Bulgarians. He said that when you go to get a visa, you must pay the normal visa fee (which, itself is quite expensive for Bulgarians), then on, top of that you must also pay (bribe) the person granting the visa at least double what the visa would cost. Also, after all that, person granting the visa could refuse you a visa for no reason at all if he/she wanted (Ivan used the example of the grantor not liking the color of someone’s tie). So, he said that there was no way for him to immigrate somewhere and he was doing the best with what he had to work with.
He was an excellent waiter and also a very nice person. I watched as he talked with, served, and gave advice to other tables on what to eat, what wine to drink, etc. He did his job well, charming everyone, and was left hard currency tips. I left him a £5 tip, which was more than the dinner cost. Needless to say, I did return to that restaurant the night before I left.
