Backa Palanka with Miodrag – January – Feburary 2004

Backa Palanka with Miodrag – January – Feburary 2004

The Arrival:
We left Josipa, Ante, Nikola, Ivka, and Paula at noon with a bagful of provisions, homemade chorizo included. The snow was coming down fast and thick. It covered the roads in quantities sufficient enough to make me afraid of falling. The result being that we moved very, very slowly. Downhill was torture because I was on my brakes the whole time, all the weight of my bike pressed forward on my shoulders, afraid of going too fast and sliding out of control in front of a passing truck. Uphill was torture because, as a result of riding my brakes all the way downhill, I had no momentum to start the upward climb. Downhill was painful and tiring; uphill was strenuous and never-ending. The miles passed by impossibly slowly. To make matters worse, we cuold see almost nothing, what with the fog and the snow; the large trucks that passed by us covered us in grey road slush; and I had a fall about halfway through the afternoon – a fall which scared me more than hurt me.

We finally reached the Serbian border as darkness was descending – a border crossing that was notable in the fact that there were no lines. It seemed as if we were the only ones that wanted to venture on the other side of the dividing line.

We passed through the town and came upon a farmhouse, where Miodrag, a friendly 30-year old Serbian with an open face, invited us to stay for the night. We came inside from the snow, which had by now accumulated about 7 or 8 inches. The first moments with his family were a little strained. His mother and grandmother were silent and stony-faced, and Miodrag explained that they were afraid of “bad people.” There had been bad people in the area, and because they didn’t know us, they were suspicious. Miodrag took us to the local bar, where we tasted the local beer, Jelen Pivo, and listened to Serbian music. Finally, a country where the people were happy to listen to their own music! It was a refreshing change.

Miodrag talked about how he was sorry about the war, but that there are good men and bad men in every country. He told us about his job as a truck driver, and we talked about his horse Lydia and Serbian music. Before going to bed, he assured us that he would have a surprise for us the next day.

Horse, Tractor, Hay, and Sleigh:
The next morning, after a copious breakfast of crepes and a lard omelette, we took the tractor through town to another farm to buy hay for Lydia. Miodrag thinks they may soon have to sell her because it is becoming increasingly difficult to find the means to feed her. At the farmer’s, Miodrag used a pitchfork to throw hay up to his dad, who was on top of the wagon. Once the wagon was piled high, we drove back through town, the three of us in front, and Miodrag’s father on top of the tall pile of hay in the wagon, smiling and waving to neighbors that we passed along the way.

We planned on leaving after lunch, but Miodrag said “No, no, you can’t leave yet. I have a surprise for you.” His surprise was driving his tractor and riding his horse. The tractor was difficult to maneuver, and the horse reared up on me, frightened as Stephane made a sudden movement towards it. I was a little bit frightened, but Miodrag kept her under control.

Afterwards, we rode a sled behind the horse on the half-foot of freshly fallen snow. The neighbor’s two dogs ran alongside the sled – well, one ran at the horse’s heels, having a great time barking its lungs out; the smaller one couldn’t quite keep up and ran behind the sled the whole time, trying to keep from drowning in the mountains of white fluff by jumping over and through it. It was a ball.

Miodrag and his family had all sorts of animals: a horse, a cow, a pig and six piglets (four of which were later killed by electrocution), chickens, geese, dogs, and cats.

Miodrag wanted to show us the new Cash and Carry supermarket in town, where he is hoping to find a steady job. It just opened two months ago, and you could tell that he wasn’t used to the big store yet. He wanted to show us how to use the shopping cart, and how the store functioned. And even though we went to the big store to buy everything we needed for dinner, we made three additional stops: one for bread, one for juice, and one for beer. So that we ended up buying very little at the supermarket. It was surprising how everything in Serbia – even in this small town – is open late. Most of the stores were open until at least 10:00 PM, if not all night long.

That night Stephane made roast chicken and pasta for dinner – the best he’d ever made! – and we looked at a drawerful of old photos with the neighbors. We saw Miodrag’s mother and grandmother smile – they were reassured that we weren’t some of the “bad people.” It was nice to see the grandmother smile – it transformed her face in such an extraordinary way.

Bleeding Pig, Snowball Fight, We’re on TV:
It was like this that we spent five days and six nights with Miodrag and his family. Every day there was another surprise, another reason why we couldn’t leave. Friday he showed us off to all of his friends and acquaintances. We were starting to feel a little bit like prize trophies. We went to the market and visited Rade, who ran the plastiko store. We saw Miodrag’s sister in the store where she works; his brother-in-law and his parents at their house (his father had both strong political views and strong brandy!); his friend Stanko, who had a dog named Snoopy. We visited his elderly neighbors, who showed us their book on Jehovah’s Witnesses. We had tea and the ever-present homemade chorizo. Everyone was surprised that Miodrag could speak English as well as he did and was in disbelief that we could actually understand him. Because he had never learned English in school – had learned Russian instead – but he had picked it all up by watching American movies and TV shows. He was a great movie buff, and it showed. He spoke excellent English.

On Saturday, we awoke to the sound of a pig’s squealing – his throat had been slit not far from where we were sleeping. We went to investigate and saw two pigs hanging upside down on hooks, beheaded and partially skinned, a crimson pool of blood being soaked up by the crisp white snow. Their heads were boiling in a nearby cauldron, to be used for a pate. As one life departs, another is born. Just then, a neighbor brought over a three-day old lamb, soft and cuddly as you could want it to be. I held it in my arms, wrapped in a blanket to protect it from the cold.

We had to go then – didn’t get to see the rest of the butchering – because the TV news crew was coming to the houses to interview us. Miodrag had arranged for it. The reporter arrived with a cameraman and a translator, still hung over from the night before. They interviewed us inside the house, then took footage outside the house. Miodrag acted as our cheerleader.

Then the snow started flying. We had a snowball fight with the neighbor kids and Miodrag’s nephew, Ducan, and niece, Snezana. And some snowball fight it was! I hadn’t had one in years and years. Most of the kids were pretty young, so it was pretty tame until one older kid, about ten years old, came out to play. He was a pretty big kid, Daniel, and Miodrag warned us about him. He threw harder than the rest of us, and seemed to particularly enjoy taking me out. He loved jumping on my back and trying to wrestle me to the ground. I must have made an easier target than Stephane, who was much bigger than he was. Then…wham! I got slammed in the face with an ice ball. In fact, the whole ball ended up intact inside my mouth! I don’t know how he managed that one. Good shot, Daniel!

Stephane carried the kids on his shoulders and I made snowballs for them to throw at each other. We pulled them on the sled. It was great. I hadn’t played in the snow like that for years. One of the kids, Bonnet, built a snowman, then dug a hole in the bottom sphere and shoved his dog inside. He pulled the dog by its two hind legs, then shoved him repeatedly headfirst into the snowman. The dog didn’t seem to mind the game in the slightest.

Then one of the neighbors came along with four sleds attached one behind the other behind his horse. He wanted to take everyone for a ride. So we all climbed on, four five adults and eight children, and the horse took off through the snow. The two dogs chased along beside us, as before. Only this time, two children were running behind with them. In fact, from the moment the horse set out, the two oldest children, who were on the last sled, fell off in a pile on the ground. They scrambled to their feet and ran after the group on the sleds, but the driver didn’t stop the horse to let them on. So we drove all over the field, for close to ten minutes, two boys and two little dogs running along behind us. The boys were remarkably good sports – and never gave up running after us, even as everyone else laughed at them. Finally, the driver stopped, and the two boys, out of breath, climbed aboard and took their places. The horse started off, and once again, they fell in a pile on top of each other onto the ground! The whole scene recommenced. Once again, two boys and two tiny dogs were running behind us in the snow!

When the fun finished, we went back to the house and found a whole group of family and neighbors standing around a table where the meat from the pig was being salted and preserved. We got to try the meat, fresh off the hog, so to speak. It was without a doubt the best meat I’ve ever had. The whole was washed down with the ever-present rakjia, the local brandy.

Family Dinner at Miodrag’s:
Sunday was the day for family dinner. Miodrag’s sister came over with her husband and two kids. We watched “Mrs. Doubtfire” on TV, then lunched with the crew. Miodrag’s mother, Mare, made soup and chicken. The mother’s cooking is like the pride of the family. I especially liked her spicy stew with raw ham, potatoes, and paprika; her ham and bean soup, and her lard omelettes and crepes. Pickles and peppers (what they call paprika) are very popular in Serbia (in Croatia, as well). They are served with most meals – even for breakfast.

We were surprised because the meal was very salty (a lot of salty ham, saucisse, and lard), yet no one drank anything during the meal. Miodrag was the only one who drank water after the meal, and he was surprised that we drank during the meal. It was so salty – they must be used to it.

There was the annual Sausage Festival in the nearby woods that day, which we unfortunately didn’t have time to go to, but Stephane did card tricks for the family. In the absence of a common language, it is a great way to communicate. Besides, Miodrag was able to translate the more complicated tricks. Stephane likes doing the tricks because he feels it is like giving something back to the family, a little bit of amusement.

We had the Sunday evening meal with friends of the family. We tasted a traditional meal called “sarma,” a dish made from leaves of sour cabbage stuffed with minced veal and pork.

Sizzling Lard, Smoked Sausage, Homemade Doughnuts:
Our last day in Backa Palanka we spent looking at the map and reworking our schedule. One of the neighbors fried lard from the pig in a big cauldron, boiling it all the way down to use as a spread when it cooled. The pieces that did not melt completely were eaten just so or with bread. The dog ate the droppings that fell out of the pot. Stephane and the neighbors ate the lard with shots of rakjia, the famous plum brandy. At the same time, the neighbor on the other side was smoking sausage, which was hanging from a wooden bar. Later in the evening, Mare, Miodrag’s mother, made jelly doughnuts with the fresh lard. It’s a different class of doughnuts that you have when you use 100% animal fat fresh off the hog!

Milan #1 !!!
I found another boyfriend in Backa Palanka, and I warned Stephane that he’d have to work really hard if he wanted to keep me all to himself. The new boyfriend I found was named Milan, surely the most adorable boy in the world with his mop of brown hair, his large brown eyes and long lashes, and his flirty smile. Oh, right, and did I mention that he was 3 1/2 years old? And cuter than ever?

We met him when we went to visit with Emina, a friendly woman with dark hair whom we had met at the market and who later invited us over for tea. There was Emina, her sister, her brother Salim, their friend Bogdan, and little Milan. We sat down on the couch and he came over to me and wanted me to read his little storybooks for him. Not being able to even decipher their alphabet (they use the Cyrillic alphabet), I made up a little something in English, and then I had a new friend. Milan came to sit on my lap and then started cracking open peanuts and wanting to feed them to me. So we took turns cracking open peanuts and feeding them to each other. After about 1 1/2 hours, just when I felt I couldn’t eat a single peanut more, we made a move to go to Uncle Salim’s house, who lived just next door. Stephane played chess with Salim while Bogdan recounted the history of Yugoslavia to me and Milan gave me a million and one kisses. I fell in love with him. I told Emina she better be careful because I might kidnap Milan, but she warned that I was the one that should be careful – it was more likely that Milan would be the one to hold me captive!

As we were leaving, Milan wanted to know if we would come back the next day, and we promised that if we were still here, we’d be sure to see him. Salim lamented the fact that he had never kissed an American girl, and here was his three-year old nephew already light-years ahead of him in that matter. I gave him a little kiss on our way out.

We called them the evening before we left to come over and visit with us. When they walked through the door, Milan ran right over to me, jumped on top of my lap, and wrapped my arms around him. I definitely had a new boyfriend. Stephane was confident, though. Didn’t seem too worried. We had a little photo session and Salim took pictures of us with the family. Took about a dozen photos, during which time Milan took care to look his best. He was wearing his Telly Tubbies sweater, and for each photo, he would take my arms from around him, smooth out his sweater, and pull it straight so that we would be able to see it really well for the photo. Then, during each break between the photos, he would wrap my arms around him again really tightly. When Salim would prepare to take the next photo, the whole thing would recommence. Push my arms away, smooth out his sweater and show it off for the camara, then arms around him again immediately afterwards. Same thing over and over, for each photo. It was so funny. He was so proud of his sweater. His favorite character was the red Telly Tubbies.

Emina was outgoing and talkative – reminded me of my girlfriends at home. Her husband, Nikola, was quieter. Milan definitely was not shy – I must have gotten a thousand more kisses that night. What a flirt! Boy, do I like these Serbian boys!

Quotes from Miodrag:
Unforgettable, Miodrag…
– – “I have to drink pig.” – He said this just after his neighbors had slaughtered their own pigs, and the pigs’ heads were boiling in the cauldron just outside the kitchen door. It surprised me, and I doubted his meaning for an instant!! He meant, of course, “I have to feed the pig.”
– – “I like fresh meat.” – This one came about after he was talking about a girl that he hoped would be his new girlfriend. He said “fresh” girlfriend instead of new girlfriend. This prompted me and Stephane to think of the phrase “fresh meat,” which was substituted for “fresh girlfriend” every time that we spoke of the girl.
– – “I like to kiss girls, not dogs.” – as the neighbor’s dog was trying to give me a kiss!