I feel the need, the urge, to say something, but I know full well that my words will drift in the breeze like so much background noise - not even remotely disturbing to the people who should hear them, people who should be deeply disturbed by them.
The saddest part about trying to explain the deplorable, stressful, and completely unacceptable experience
Ever, however, is way too long. There are not any evers in life. Ever belongs to the church, to mythology, to fairy tales. Our world, the real and tangible and smokable world, is about increments of time. Time since my last cigarette. Time before my last cigarette. Time it takes to smoke a cigarette. Time I need to suck on my electronic cigarette to make up for the time it took to smoke my last cigarette.
After washing up on Plymouth Rock in December of 1620, the 102 passengers of the Mayflower set about the task of conquering North America in the name of Puritanism. Religious fanaticism not being sufficient protection against Cold and Hunger, 46 of the original sinners died in the first winter.
While committed to helping develop the economic capacities of Serbia, the Adviser leaves most of these key messages as implied, focusing instead on his main areas of expertise and topics of specific interest to him in his new role.
As soon as the announcement came last month that foreigners were wanted in the new flip-flopped Serbian government, I was on alert. Surely the call would come from Aleksandar Vučić asking me to take over a few portfolios. Not too many, enough to keep me occupied a couple days a week.
But the call never came. I should get my phone serviced.
In Paracin for the weekend among in-laws and ancient ancestors, at one point we were at a loss for something to do that did not involve mounds of food, liters of rakija, and hours of nostalgia. Always the resourceful sort, I come up with a perfect plan for a Sunday night.
Let's go see a movie, I said.
Interestingly, after over a decade's presence here in Serbia, I begin to take things for granted which might jar the senses of a visitor to this strange planet. Now that my family from America is coming to visit, I begin to look at things through their eyes. And I wonder at the sight.
Having been told to meet our bus in this parking lot to begin the 12-hour trip to Halkidiki, we duly showed up at the appointed time and place. Instead of seeing our bus, however, we saw at least 20 such conveyances, surrounded with hundreds of bag-laden holidaymakers.
The process of transformation had already begun.
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