Belgrade

In the winter of 2003, I went to Serbia to stand by my best friend as she delivered her first child. Since, she’s moved on and away to Egypt. It just so happens that on the 7th of September, she’ll be back in Belgrade for the sake of changing her work permit in Egypt (if she decides to stay working there she’ll only be in Belgrade for 10 days, but I’m not so sure she’ll go back). I’ve booked my ticket for the 8^th.

This is photo I took in 2003, of the view from her bedroom window in Serbia.

It looks real pretty for those of us in the desert, but I assure you it was hell on earth. Temperatures below freezing made it impossible to think about showering first thing in the morning. Government restrictions and control on household heating meant you would freeze to death when the government decided it was time to turn the heaters off and you would roast when they decided to turn them back on. I was told I should shower with socks on by my best friend’s 80-year-old grandfather, and I was told I needed to drink a shot of Brandy before brushing my teeth each morning, and should carry a bottle with me everywhere to insure I wouldn’t freeze to death. I can’t remember the exact temperatures now, but it was fucking cold. So much so, that that very same grandfather kept food on the balcony instead of in the freezer to preserve it.

The pure depression of the society in that place was like nothing I’d ever seen or could have believed existed. About two weeks after I arrived I saw the first smile on a stranger’s face and actually jumped up and hugged him, making my friend snap a photo because I was so happy to finally see a glimpse of happiness in public. I still have that photo, but since I’m in it, I won’t be posting it here. I was assured by locals it was the winter that did it to people. In the summer time, Serbia is a happy place. I find it hard to believe, but I’m about to find out. I’m also going to see my best friends baby for the first time since she was born. I can’t wait.

Maybe Taunted can help me, when it comes to what Belgrade is like just now. I believe he’s just come back from there.

There aren’t any tickets available back home until after the 15^th of September. I’m afraid that may be too long off in my case. I don’t know that I trust the hospitals there, but my friend has assured me that there are really good private ones, far better than the government one I saw (where medicines were not available but had to be brought in from outside by the patients), and the treatment I need is available. I’m not sure how long I’ll be gone yet, but it’s pretty much confirmed… I’m going.

In the meantime, my son has refused to go to the school tomorrow with his father unless I go with him. It sure feels good to know that your baby still wants you, especially when you know that soon enough he won’t want my hand at all. I need to get up early tomorrow to accompany my ex husband and my child to the school. I hope he’ll be alright on his first day, if I’m away for it. Then, my ex husband is off to look into getting a new nanny and a new maid. Hopefully, I’ll hold my temper if I see either of these women tomorrow. The more I think about what they may have exposed my son to, the more I see my self beating the shit out of them both.