A Long, Labeled Road

In hopes of avoiding the holiday blues that were almost guaranteed by spending December 25 (my Christmas) as though it was any other Monday in Belgrade, I headed off to Slovakia to visit a friend and her family for the holidays. Despite three days of family meals, spiced up by the surprising quantity of becherovka consumed by all generations in attendance, I managed to spend some time seeing Bratislava and Slovakia’s castle-filled, western region. As my friend and I strolled through the center of Bratislava, I commented on the freshly painted, colorful facades of the surrounding buildings and the excess of signs pointing the way to castles, churches, and famous birth places. “Eh, we’ve been European Unionized,” she said.

Slovakia joined the European Union two years ago, and, despite concerns over the results of its last election, it has generally been called a success and the “darling of multinationals” in regards to foreign investment.

Certainly not everything in Slovakia has completely succumbed to EU conventions. The economy in the east still suffers, in some places terribly, from a lack of industry and high unemployment; and even in Bratislava an individual recently managed to sneak around zoning laws and is currently constructing a multistory monstrosity in the middle of what was once a protected view from the scenic Bratislava Castle. Clearly bribery and connections continue to pull their weight even under the fresh layers of paint.

However, much of Slovakia’s daily commerce and public services seem to operate within standards far closer to those held in Western Europe than to those in Serbia - for better or worse. The streets are clean; the highways, though not extensive, are well maintained; and everything is labeled in both Slovak and English, and not just in the capital city. Even in my friend’s small town of Partizanske, the infrequent tourist who manages to make his way to this former factory village can easily find the municipal office, the movie theater, and the bowling ally, all without having to stop and ask directions from a single local (I repeat, for better or worse). This signage proves a stark contrast to, say, Zemun where you can find yourself in front of the Millennium Tower and not have a clue that what stands before you – a commemorative tower built over one hundred years ago by the then ruling Hungarian Empire in celebration of 1000 years of its existence – is anything more than an overused canvas for local graffiti artists.

And then there’s Tesco. If it weren’t for the excess of meat paste and the lack of peanut butter, I would have sworn I was stepping into the average Wal-Mart when I walked through the doors of this supermarket now found all over Slovakia. Like every good American super store, Tesco offers its customers everything from Lipton Tea, to sweatpants, to French wines, all neatly displayed in brightly lit aisles. And unlike Mercator or Tempo in Serbia, Tescos are everywhere, and even seem to have replaced the local outdoor pijacas - perhaps one of my favorite aspects of daily life in Belgrade.

As I went from Slovakia’s well-marked castles to its well lit aisles, I wondered if and when Serbia would ever look like this. What seems more likely, that Serbia will turn over Ratko Mladic or that it will give up its beautifully eclectic markets?

Much good is certain to come from Serbia’s eventual European accession, perhaps even more than I as a foreigner can appreciate as I have never had to face local problems with job security, education quality, or restrictions on travel. And any real concern about Serbia losing its local flavor is a bit premature given the number of obstacles standing between this country and its EU membership. But my brief stay in Slovakia does lead me to wonder if any society can maintain its local life style within the confines of a multinational, globalized body such as the EU. In that regard, I suppose that the incorporation of the people who invented kajmak and inat into the EU will make for a good test case.