A plumb bit of Serbian brandy

I have always been fond of plum brandy. It suits my needs perfectly – each brandy is specific. That is what drinking is about, truly enjoying what you are consuming, not mindlessly ordering a faceless (and tasteless) beer produced by a Western conglomerate - and there is the added bonus of not having to go through the chore of visiting the toilet more than 3 times per night.

Quite often visitors to Serbia have found that expressing a love of the short stuff will impress the locals – even to the extent of their donating a bottle of their finest to the lucky visitor. One should also be aware that of the more cyncial tradition of greeting a visitor with brandy 'for guests'. They keep the best stuff for themselves.

Although I’ve been living in Serbia ‘full time’ since 2000, other than a few visits to the odd smaller town I have not spent any length of time in a village. When my cousin told me that he was going on a rakija making expedition it was time for that purgatory to end.

The village of Debrc is located roughly halfway between Obrenovac and Sabac, hardly a long trek from Belgrade, but due to very poor roads and spacey landscape (and perhaps the lack of a village shop) it very much has an otherworldly feel to it. Like many villages on this planet Debrc is going through something of a crisis.

In fact one could say that the place is in intensive care and in a generation or two may cease to exist. Nearly half its population live there part time – they return in summer to harvest crops and to keep the houses of their forefathers from falling into a state of disrepair.

Most of the villagers are related to one another and those bonds remain largely strong. Women are a rare commodity in Debrc. Much of the time its men are to be found telling tall stories. One story I heard (but barely understood) was if you go out into the night in certain parts of the village you may hear an almost inaudible tap-taping. This usually takes place at midnight. It is known, apparently, in these parts, that this is one form of the mating ritual. The tapping is the males signal that he is present (and available). The female response, from inside the house, is to cough – which is permission to proceed.However, the plan doesn’t always succeed as stray dogs often give the game away.

There is plenty of time for stories like these. Ironic that time is in great supply and yet it is running out for Debrc and many thousands of villages like it in Serbia and beyond.

My friend Vlado, who also participated in the brandy making process, is himself only an occasional visitor to the family home. He told me that his children don’t express much desire to visit and he doesn’t blame them. After a day or so of feasting on Serbian slatko, being pinched on the cheeks by various relatives and watching the 3 channels available on their black and white television set, they can barely wait to return to town.

My impressions?Yes it was jolly, yes we drank, we ate and were truly merry. And no doubt this will happen many more times, but the fact is that village life all over the world is slowly being extinguished. I may be far more comfortable living in town, getting up-to-the-minute information on whatever pleases me but when will those that are marching us on in the direction of ‘progress’ realise that the extinction of villages is no progress at all.

You may note that I began this with the intention of writing about the rakija making process. This topic seemed more important – another time perhaps.