Friday, May 6, 2011
Dreamers
At my last class with the oldest group I had a thoughtful conversation (in English!) with Jakuta, the girl I mentioned in my post with some student profiles who speaks English really well. None of my students who are older than thirteen go to school and many younger ones don't either because prejudice and de facto segregation are prevalent in most schools through the Balkans. When I asked Jakuta about returning to school or finding work using her language abilities she called me crazy and said I dream like an American. I dream like an American? How can dreams vary with nationality? I thought they were universal shades of hope and possibility threaded on the same needle. I thought the only types of dreams were ones that push our realities and mind to think bigger and that even though dreams vary in attainability based on circumstance I thought that the potential to dream exists in all of us. When did society become a dichotomy of dreamers and infidels? When did the spool of imagination tangle and the thread of belief unwind? How old must you be to have been convinced by society that you are not a dreamer, that you do not deserve to dream, that dreams are for others, not for you, that dreaming is a waste. I take pride in being a dreamer but I don't know if I'm good at living in a world where dreaming discriminates.
Thursday, May 5, 2011
Crvena Zvezda profiles
I have about sixty regulars in my English classes and they all have led fascinating and frightening lives. Here are snippets of eleven of their stories.
David, 12: David came to Crevena Zvezda at the same time as I did after his mom and siblings were deported from Germany. He didn't know any Serbian nor did I any Romani but he wanted to learn and I wanted to teach so we were a good pair. David is completely benign with a sensitive but very warm heart. He has a dream of going to India to live with his father. The trouble is he has no father, in India or anywhere. His mom has lied to him all his life saying that his father is waiting for him in India but actually his father was killed before David turned 1. I was told there was a fight between skinheads and some Roma men and his father was a poor victim. David is fascinated by astronomy and he's convinced that if given the opportunity he would find friends in outer space. I bet he could.
Casandra, 11: Casandra's namesake is the title character of a Spanish soap opera from the 90s, infamous amongst the Roma. This name is very popular, in fact I teach six Casandras, because the television is their window to the world. This box gives them something to dream about and long for and it helps them escape from their reality. This Casandra is diffident and taciturn and often she goes through entire classes without so much as a whisper. She has a knack for drawing and creative lettering and when I gave her the assignment of writing the English alphabet on a poster she took it very seriously and drew 26 letters each with a unique style. When I hung it on the wall I could tell she was overcome by pride and every time I instructed students to look to it during class for when they got confused between the Cyrillic and Latin characters, Casandra would raise her shoulders coyly and smile to herself. It was precious.
Ekrem, 9: Ekrem is sweet on Andjela and Marija and Gabrijela and Casandra. He confided in me after our third class and asked what he should do about it. He doesn't hang out with the other boys if he doesn't have to and he likes to sing, dance, and draw. His English improvement was commendable and he's a martinet of punctuality and keeping the class focused. Unlike most other boys and girls who hit each other to quiet them or get their attention, Ekrem prefers to sit straight in his chair, put his arms on the table, and look at the offender until they are met with his silencing glare. Sometimes this backfires and the students will all laugh and make fun of him but it has proved useful on more than one occasion and I love how he hasn't adopted up the abusive instincts that the others have learned through the adults in the settlement.
Djelko, 5: Djelko wants to be a rockstar. He really really really wants it. We made a guitar one day out of cardboard and though it's weather-worn he still brings it to every class. Last class he had a bandage around his forehead, apparently his teacher threatened to tear up his guitar and he wouldn't stop crying so she smacked him and her ring pickup some skin on the way back.
Sara, 3: Sara is the youngest in my baby class but she's the first to tell you that she's practically four since her birthday is next month so she doesn't need special attention. I love the Serbian name Sara because it has two long a's and a rolled r so it's more like Sah-r-ah. Lovely, and she is too. Her favorite color is whatever color she's wearing that day and she's meticulous about clean-up. She always sits next to this boy, Marian, who doesn't say a word, in any language. Marian is often bruised because his father hits him for not speaking and Sara puts stickers on these bruises and tells him, "all better."
Leonardo, 14: Leonardo is a jester. His favorite thing to say is "thank you very mačka" (pronounced mahch-ka and it means cat in Serbian). When he doesn't understand something he resorts to turning it into a punch-line and though it can be frustrating working through his outbursts that get the class riled up, he has that ability of making others laugh and helping the classroom feel less formal. I love that he doesn't take himself seriously.
Irena, 16: Irena loves using English phrases that she's heard in music and movies, in and out of class. Ladies and gentlemen, applause applause, and what you talking about willis (but she says villis because there's no double-u in Serbian) are expressions that she pulls out constantly. She has difficulty sitting still and focusing, preferring to be doing something with her hands at all times so she would braid my hair while we reviewed vocab and grammar which this worked like a charm.
Nazira, 13: Nazira is one tough cookie. She is the one girl in her class who wants to be treated by the boys as one of them and she often shows off with her strength and courage hoping to earn their favor. If you're familiar with West Side Story she's quite an Anybodys to the boys' Jets. The nose ring you see was self-inflicted right before one of my classes and seeing her jam a rusted wire into her nose to puncture it brought me close to disgorging. She didn't even flinch.
Stela, 17: Stela was abused more than most as a child. Her father is an angry drunk and for all I know he still strikes her. Stela snaps without warning and her tongue can be as vicious as a virago but she will never let her friends down nor will they ever be picked on in her presence. Her sense of loyalty is laudable.
Jakuta, 16: Jakuta knows English. She understands what I say and she responds with unheard of accuracy having never taken an English class in her life. She spends her days on the computer at the schoolhouse listening to American music, reading trashy tabloids, and surfing youtube. After just two years of having internet access at the schoolhouse she's picked up a second language.
Andjela, 7: Andjela is a dancer, there's no denying it. She learns through movement and has the balance and coordination of a ballerina. She is bashful to the most adorable degree and though she's a little afraid to open her heart, it's a pure and beautiful one. My students all know the Roma variations of Serbian kolo dancing danced at every celebration and Andjela is a natural. There are points in each song where one person steps forward and improvises for a bit, feeling the music and letting it take you where it may, and everyone knows Andjela is a natural so the others call her out during these bridges. Each time she is hesitant to take the floor but once she does her reservations depart and she appears so entranced by the music that nothing phases her.
Crvena Zvezda, their settlement
These are my students. This is their life.
David, 12: David came to Crevena Zvezda at the same time as I did after his mom and siblings were deported from Germany. He didn't know any Serbian nor did I any Romani but he wanted to learn and I wanted to teach so we were a good pair. David is completely benign with a sensitive but very warm heart. He has a dream of going to India to live with his father. The trouble is he has no father, in India or anywhere. His mom has lied to him all his life saying that his father is waiting for him in India but actually his father was killed before David turned 1. I was told there was a fight between skinheads and some Roma men and his father was a poor victim. David is fascinated by astronomy and he's convinced that if given the opportunity he would find friends in outer space. I bet he could.
Casandra, 11: Casandra's namesake is the title character of a Spanish soap opera from the 90s, infamous amongst the Roma. This name is very popular, in fact I teach six Casandras, because the television is their window to the world. This box gives them something to dream about and long for and it helps them escape from their reality. This Casandra is diffident and taciturn and often she goes through entire classes without so much as a whisper. She has a knack for drawing and creative lettering and when I gave her the assignment of writing the English alphabet on a poster she took it very seriously and drew 26 letters each with a unique style. When I hung it on the wall I could tell she was overcome by pride and every time I instructed students to look to it during class for when they got confused between the Cyrillic and Latin characters, Casandra would raise her shoulders coyly and smile to herself. It was precious.
Ekrem, 9: Ekrem is sweet on Andjela and Marija and Gabrijela and Casandra. He confided in me after our third class and asked what he should do about it. He doesn't hang out with the other boys if he doesn't have to and he likes to sing, dance, and draw. His English improvement was commendable and he's a martinet of punctuality and keeping the class focused. Unlike most other boys and girls who hit each other to quiet them or get their attention, Ekrem prefers to sit straight in his chair, put his arms on the table, and look at the offender until they are met with his silencing glare. Sometimes this backfires and the students will all laugh and make fun of him but it has proved useful on more than one occasion and I love how he hasn't adopted up the abusive instincts that the others have learned through the adults in the settlement.
Djelko, 5: Djelko wants to be a rockstar. He really really really wants it. We made a guitar one day out of cardboard and though it's weather-worn he still brings it to every class. Last class he had a bandage around his forehead, apparently his teacher threatened to tear up his guitar and he wouldn't stop crying so she smacked him and her ring pickup some skin on the way back.
Sara, 3: Sara is the youngest in my baby class but she's the first to tell you that she's practically four since her birthday is next month so she doesn't need special attention. I love the Serbian name Sara because it has two long a's and a rolled r so it's more like Sah-r-ah. Lovely, and she is too. Her favorite color is whatever color she's wearing that day and she's meticulous about clean-up. She always sits next to this boy, Marian, who doesn't say a word, in any language. Marian is often bruised because his father hits him for not speaking and Sara puts stickers on these bruises and tells him, "all better."
Leonardo, 14: Leonardo is a jester. His favorite thing to say is "thank you very mačka" (pronounced mahch-ka and it means cat in Serbian). When he doesn't understand something he resorts to turning it into a punch-line and though it can be frustrating working through his outbursts that get the class riled up, he has that ability of making others laugh and helping the classroom feel less formal. I love that he doesn't take himself seriously.
Irena, 16: Irena loves using English phrases that she's heard in music and movies, in and out of class. Ladies and gentlemen, applause applause, and what you talking about willis (but she says villis because there's no double-u in Serbian) are expressions that she pulls out constantly. She has difficulty sitting still and focusing, preferring to be doing something with her hands at all times so she would braid my hair while we reviewed vocab and grammar which this worked like a charm.
Nazira, 13: Nazira is one tough cookie. She is the one girl in her class who wants to be treated by the boys as one of them and she often shows off with her strength and courage hoping to earn their favor. If you're familiar with West Side Story she's quite an Anybodys to the boys' Jets. The nose ring you see was self-inflicted right before one of my classes and seeing her jam a rusted wire into her nose to puncture it brought me close to disgorging. She didn't even flinch.
Stela, 17: Stela was abused more than most as a child. Her father is an angry drunk and for all I know he still strikes her. Stela snaps without warning and her tongue can be as vicious as a virago but she will never let her friends down nor will they ever be picked on in her presence. Her sense of loyalty is laudable.
Jakuta, 16: Jakuta knows English. She understands what I say and she responds with unheard of accuracy having never taken an English class in her life. She spends her days on the computer at the schoolhouse listening to American music, reading trashy tabloids, and surfing youtube. After just two years of having internet access at the schoolhouse she's picked up a second language.
Andjela, 7: Andjela is a dancer, there's no denying it. She learns through movement and has the balance and coordination of a ballerina. She is bashful to the most adorable degree and though she's a little afraid to open her heart, it's a pure and beautiful one. My students all know the Roma variations of Serbian kolo dancing danced at every celebration and Andjela is a natural. There are points in each song where one person steps forward and improvises for a bit, feeling the music and letting it take you where it may, and everyone knows Andjela is a natural so the others call her out during these bridges. Each time she is hesitant to take the floor but once she does her reservations depart and she appears so entranced by the music that nothing phases her.
Crvena Zvezda, their settlement
These are my students. This is their life.
Wednesday, May 4, 2011
Tradition
I've mentioned this previously but before coming to Serbia I had a more romantic view of how Serbs live, ignorantly believing that people lived more traditionally than they do. Village life is still very traditional but even my host Novi Sad grandparents from a village of less than 1,500 residents have a television set right next to their wood-burning stove.
What I've discovered through living here is that most people still do live a very traditional life, even in cities, but they do so with modern amenities which makes complete sense. Most families still choose to buy fresh produce from the farmers' markers, eggs from their villages, meat from the butcher, and they take pride in the process of cooking traditionally like they were taught. They honor religious holidays and incorporate their faith into everyday life. They rusticate in villages they grew up in for weekends to escape the faster city pace and reminisce about their childhood and the good old days. My host grandparents in the village still wash clothes by hand but they are considering buying a washing machine, and there's no reason why they shouldn't. Nor is there a reason not to live presently in the information age with the technologies of today. I don't know why I thought people didn't have access to technology or if they did they would choose to live without it just to protect tradition or why I thought technology implied an end to tradition, but for some reason I did. Silly me with my romantic ignorance.
Gadgets are expensive and the dinar (Serbian currency) isn't strong enough for most people to appreciate many of modern gizmos. Most youth would like to have all the newest devices but cannot because they're too expensive so they aren't as present in their lives. Another distinction which should be made is with the reliance on technology. In towns and villages even though people have televisions or internet access many don't consider it a part of their day. Even in the neighborhood I live in now most of my neighbors don't even have computers and they aren't interested in having them.
I've had some eye-opening experiences in regards to tradition and how the old and new coexist in the 21st century this year, in Eastern Europe at least!
What I've discovered through living here is that most people still do live a very traditional life, even in cities, but they do so with modern amenities which makes complete sense. Most families still choose to buy fresh produce from the farmers' markers, eggs from their villages, meat from the butcher, and they take pride in the process of cooking traditionally like they were taught. They honor religious holidays and incorporate their faith into everyday life. They rusticate in villages they grew up in for weekends to escape the faster city pace and reminisce about their childhood and the good old days. My host grandparents in the village still wash clothes by hand but they are considering buying a washing machine, and there's no reason why they shouldn't. Nor is there a reason not to live presently in the information age with the technologies of today. I don't know why I thought people didn't have access to technology or if they did they would choose to live without it just to protect tradition or why I thought technology implied an end to tradition, but for some reason I did. Silly me with my romantic ignorance.
Gadgets are expensive and the dinar (Serbian currency) isn't strong enough for most people to appreciate many of modern gizmos. Most youth would like to have all the newest devices but cannot because they're too expensive so they aren't as present in their lives. Another distinction which should be made is with the reliance on technology. In towns and villages even though people have televisions or internet access many don't consider it a part of their day. Even in the neighborhood I live in now most of my neighbors don't even have computers and they aren't interested in having them.
I've had some eye-opening experiences in regards to tradition and how the old and new coexist in the 21st century this year, in Eastern Europe at least!
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
Inspiration in bed linens
The strangest thing happened this morning. It began with my host mom handing me a clean pile of sheets and blankets to dress my bed with. While removing the previous ones and giving the bed a makeover with these I hadn't given much thought to the new ones. When I tucked in the final corner and emphatically relinquished the mattress -- changing sheets is not my favorite task in any country -- I finally saw the sheets. Sheets that strike an absolutely uncanny resemblance to ones I had as a child. White cotton with faded pink and white flowers, some fully bloomed others still in budding, and light green leaves and branches which wind around and sometimes connect to another cluster. This seems quite usual as I'm writing it but, if my memory serves right, the hues are spot on and they are the flowers are the same size and design as those sheets from the 20th century.
Perhaps this stretches a faultless, wellmeant metaphor but I jumped into thinking how in Serbia I resemble a child and how my final bedding is taking me back to my childhood. If you think this metaphor is ridiculous you should probably stop reading now, I tend to wax poetic.
In Serbia I've relearned how to communicate, both with a new language and different cultural interactions. I've retried my taste buds with myriad new foods. I've discovered two new cities and found meaningful nooks and crannies. I've become a member of two families and organizations. In a sense leaving what you know and opening your arms and mind to what you don't follows the path a child takes growing up, having to make sense of all the unfamiliarities and find a place among them.
I've also been surrounded by children the entire year. Until January it was my ten-year-old angel of a sister, Mima. Since then it's been my three to seventeen-year-old students. With Mima I was first learning the ropes of Serbian culture and she acted a guide through them and a constant source of childlike wonder. By January I had become familiar with Serbia but the Roma were still a giant znak pitanja (question mark) so my students were a way for me to see into their culture and community while keeping me fascinated and curious with their vitality. Because I have invariably been with children this year I believe I was able to more freely accept new cultures and because those children invariably possessed inquiring minds I have been inspired to continuously seek nuances between the cultures.
Sheets may just be sheets but I think there's something that can be said for adopting every new culture as you did your first.
Perhaps this stretches a faultless, wellmeant metaphor but I jumped into thinking how in Serbia I resemble a child and how my final bedding is taking me back to my childhood. If you think this metaphor is ridiculous you should probably stop reading now, I tend to wax poetic.
In Serbia I've relearned how to communicate, both with a new language and different cultural interactions. I've retried my taste buds with myriad new foods. I've discovered two new cities and found meaningful nooks and crannies. I've become a member of two families and organizations. In a sense leaving what you know and opening your arms and mind to what you don't follows the path a child takes growing up, having to make sense of all the unfamiliarities and find a place among them.
I've also been surrounded by children the entire year. Until January it was my ten-year-old angel of a sister, Mima. Since then it's been my three to seventeen-year-old students. With Mima I was first learning the ropes of Serbian culture and she acted a guide through them and a constant source of childlike wonder. By January I had become familiar with Serbia but the Roma were still a giant znak pitanja (question mark) so my students were a way for me to see into their culture and community while keeping me fascinated and curious with their vitality. Because I have invariably been with children this year I believe I was able to more freely accept new cultures and because those children invariably possessed inquiring minds I have been inspired to continuously seek nuances between the cultures.
Sheets may just be sheets but I think there's something that can be said for adopting every new culture as you did your first.
Monday, May 2, 2011
Final group excursion around Serbia: Đavolja Varoš
Đavolja Varoš means Devil's Town and like Felix Romuliana it is one of the "New Seven Wonders" of which there are 77, I kid you not. Admittedly it would be an impossible task to select merely seven.
Regardless Đavolja Varoš is a beautiful natural monument with what were described as "soil figures" in an English pamphlet. 202 of these soil figures lie in one area of this mountain and they range from two to fifteen meters high and .5 to 3 meters wide. I've never seen anything like it and Hawaii has a plethora of beautiful natural outliers. Apparently there are others around Europe but these ones are the largest and most stable of all.
Reminiscent of Big Thunder Mountain Railroad at Disneyland?
Legend has it that the figures represent petrified wedding guests of a brother and sister who tried to marry after being seduced by the devil.
Along the trail to get to the soil figures there are two mineral water wells with "extraordinary properties," again I'm quoting the pamphlet. They have pH levels of 1.5 and 3.5 if that means something to you and "high mineralization." I wish I could appreciate what that means. The local population believes the waters have healing capacities.
There are also remains from an ancient mine and church with an incredible surrounding mountain and countryside so this definitely seems worth of the top 77 rank.
After hiking back down we stopped at a kafana run by a single family.
One woman took our orders and prepared all the food and her children sold Đavolja Varoš souvenirs and bottled drinks and preserves the mom makes. The woman was extremely kind and generous making us palacinke though they weren't on the daily menu. The food as always was fantastic but we appreciated it even more knowing that she alone prepared it all. After striking up some conversation we learned this cabin in the wilderness serves as their restaurant, house, kitchen, and business from April to October.
For the first time we tried this delicious dish called popara made from kajmak (oh so tasty milk fat), old bread, milk, and sometimes cheese. It was sort of like a savory bread pudding and it reminded me of mac&cheese, a comfort food that I can't believe I haven't had since August! As you can see the kafana, actually called krcma (an old old word for kafana), is beautiful and literally located in the forrest of Đavolja Varoš.
To cap off the day we stopped at on of the towns in Southern Serbia based around its natural spring. Previously I wrote about Sokobanja (falcon's spa) and this time it was Prolombanja.
The only melancholy of the day came through realizing that this is our last excursion in Serbia and our last week here. Fortunately we have another 3 weeks together to look forward to!
Regardless Đavolja Varoš is a beautiful natural monument with what were described as "soil figures" in an English pamphlet. 202 of these soil figures lie in one area of this mountain and they range from two to fifteen meters high and .5 to 3 meters wide. I've never seen anything like it and Hawaii has a plethora of beautiful natural outliers. Apparently there are others around Europe but these ones are the largest and most stable of all.
Reminiscent of Big Thunder Mountain Railroad at Disneyland?
Legend has it that the figures represent petrified wedding guests of a brother and sister who tried to marry after being seduced by the devil.
Along the trail to get to the soil figures there are two mineral water wells with "extraordinary properties," again I'm quoting the pamphlet. They have pH levels of 1.5 and 3.5 if that means something to you and "high mineralization." I wish I could appreciate what that means. The local population believes the waters have healing capacities.
There are also remains from an ancient mine and church with an incredible surrounding mountain and countryside so this definitely seems worth of the top 77 rank.
After hiking back down we stopped at a kafana run by a single family.
One woman took our orders and prepared all the food and her children sold Đavolja Varoš souvenirs and bottled drinks and preserves the mom makes. The woman was extremely kind and generous making us palacinke though they weren't on the daily menu. The food as always was fantastic but we appreciated it even more knowing that she alone prepared it all. After striking up some conversation we learned this cabin in the wilderness serves as their restaurant, house, kitchen, and business from April to October.
For the first time we tried this delicious dish called popara made from kajmak (oh so tasty milk fat), old bread, milk, and sometimes cheese. It was sort of like a savory bread pudding and it reminded me of mac&cheese, a comfort food that I can't believe I haven't had since August! As you can see the kafana, actually called krcma (an old old word for kafana), is beautiful and literally located in the forrest of Đavolja Varoš.
To cap off the day we stopped at on of the towns in Southern Serbia based around its natural spring. Previously I wrote about Sokobanja (falcon's spa) and this time it was Prolombanja.
The only melancholy of the day came through realizing that this is our last excursion in Serbia and our last week here. Fortunately we have another 3 weeks together to look forward to!
Serbian Orthodox Baptism
My host sisters' cousin's son's (host nephew?) baptism was the first I'd ever attended so I don't have much to compare it with. It's a very important event for the whole family and their friends so many are invited to the baptism itself and the kafana celebration after. The small Orthodox church was packed with about fifty friends and family members. My host sister who lives in Belgrade came to Nis for the baptism because it's so significant for the baby boy baptized and his parents.
The Godparents held the baby for most of the ceremony and they are not allowed to be blood-related. The priest walked in a circle around the altar sprinkling water on each of us and the boy's Godparents, Mother, and Father walked behind him holding candles. My host dad said normally everyone walks in this circle but there wasn't enough space so we observed.
This icon of Mary and Jesus is very significant in the Orthodox church. It's difficult to see in this picture but at the bottom towards the left there is a third hand. Dating back to the 8th century, the hand is said to be one of St. John of Damascus, a defender of holy icons. The emporer punished St. John and ordered him to cut his hand off and put it on the city square. After cutting off his hand he prayed and dreamt of the Virgin Mary healing his hand because he held his faith above all. To express his gratitude to Mary he put a silver copy of his cut hand in this icon called Three Handed Virgin.
Again I don't know what other baptism proceedings are like but the part of this day that seemed the most unique was the kafana celebration afterwards. The baptism party drove to one of Nis's most famous and popular kafanas and we ate, sang, and danced for six hours!
The Godparents held the baby for most of the ceremony and they are not allowed to be blood-related. The priest walked in a circle around the altar sprinkling water on each of us and the boy's Godparents, Mother, and Father walked behind him holding candles. My host dad said normally everyone walks in this circle but there wasn't enough space so we observed.
This icon of Mary and Jesus is very significant in the Orthodox church. It's difficult to see in this picture but at the bottom towards the left there is a third hand. Dating back to the 8th century, the hand is said to be one of St. John of Damascus, a defender of holy icons. The emporer punished St. John and ordered him to cut his hand off and put it on the city square. After cutting off his hand he prayed and dreamt of the Virgin Mary healing his hand because he held his faith above all. To express his gratitude to Mary he put a silver copy of his cut hand in this icon called Three Handed Virgin.
Again I don't know what other baptism proceedings are like but the part of this day that seemed the most unique was the kafana celebration afterwards. The baptism party drove to one of Nis's most famous and popular kafanas and we ate, sang, and danced for six hours!
Sunday, May 1, 2011
Lipovac
I've been informed by a couple of people this week that they enjoy pictures so in my final week (yes, it is indeed the last full week that I'm in Serbia but we still have a month before the program finishes explained here) I promise to accompany all posts with tons of pictures. Beginning with this one about the intercultural day my service placement organized last Friday with Serbian and Roma youth.
All in all it was pretty successful. The students, 14 Roma and 26 Serb, did divide up initially because they didn't know each other but once put in random groups most people became friendly.
I was sorry to see that this wasn't the case with everyone, especially during the games period where we had four mixed teams and though within the teams people were nice enough, the competition got my male Roma students and some of the male Serbs got aggressive and we only played six out of the eight games because tensions were too high. Fortunately a short hike to the cross at the top of this mountain brought the group together again and it ended on a positive note.
Cross close-up
Farther
Farthest, it was a relatively steep trail, not much winding around so it only took about 15 minutes to get to the top
Behind
Below this church is a beautiful monastery for which the village garners pride. While we were there a daily prayer was being read and we got to listen and watch the ceremony. I very discretely took four pictures and here they are.
Prijatno! Enjoy!
All in all it was pretty successful. The students, 14 Roma and 26 Serb, did divide up initially because they didn't know each other but once put in random groups most people became friendly.
I was sorry to see that this wasn't the case with everyone, especially during the games period where we had four mixed teams and though within the teams people were nice enough, the competition got my male Roma students and some of the male Serbs got aggressive and we only played six out of the eight games because tensions were too high. Fortunately a short hike to the cross at the top of this mountain brought the group together again and it ended on a positive note.
Cross close-up
Farther
Farthest, it was a relatively steep trail, not much winding around so it only took about 15 minutes to get to the top
Behind
Below this church is a beautiful monastery for which the village garners pride. While we were there a daily prayer was being read and we got to listen and watch the ceremony. I very discretely took four pictures and here they are.
Prijatno! Enjoy!
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