observationer

I've been living in the north of Europe for four years now. Can confirm that I expanded my horizons and learned a lot about myself and people here. But also people back home.

Let's start with some of the cultural shock I experienced. 

First thing I can point out is something I can call empathy leveling. Most of people are superficially distant and from a southern European perspective cold. Later you probably knew from the stereotypes like "it's cold but, standard,hey!". But, what I learned is if someone embraces you after some time,they are genuine in that. It's different situation from back home where you meet a person and it takes about 7 minutes to have a lifelong friendship feeling. You won't be invited to anyone's house for a year,but once you are,you can expect to have help with dismembering a body,no questions asked. 

On the other side, people are not cruel. In situations where facts are presented in a rational manner,even with alcohol present, people tend to keep their cool, accept new information and admit potential misjudgement. There's also a lack of action in potentially dangerous situations,something I can atribute to the trust in the institutions. I've heard more than one time that I shouldn't act and let the police/firefighters/ambulance deal with it.

Second huge shock was that noone covers their mouth when yawning. I remember vividly my 6th grade biology class teacher yelling at me that she's disgusted with the sight of my kidneys when I yawned and promptly kicked me out of the classroom.

Here people yawn in the middle of the sentence on a date powering through the yawn so the sentence wouldn't suffer. Imagine my surprise when I saw that for the first time on a gorgeous girl. 

Biological functions are also very much not taboo. Shitting is normally discussed among friends and lovers. I'm not going to go into details but I had a cute situation where I was driving a truly beautiful woman and she said that she has to fart. I was a bit taken by surprise but for some reason that spells closeness to me. Something that family does.

Seconds after that,she said through laughter that she shat herself. No embarrassment. Just a fact. But hilarious situation.

Next one is nudity.

I used to take my son to a local pool every weekend because he loves water. And the first time I went to leave my stuff in the locker room I was greeted with a sight of about 10 people of all ages having a friendly discussion among themselves. Butt naked. Scratching their balls, touching each other when someone makes a joke I suppose. And a woman, equally naked coming in to call her kid to come. Noone payed attention.

A few years ago I was with my friends from previous work place and we went to sit on one of millions of Copenhagen piers. All immigrants except for the two. In Denmark you can drink in public. In Sweden you can't. Mostly.

It was a warm day for the middle of May. 

So there were we, playing bunch of music from 4 continents and a young lady approaches us,sits next to us for a few minutes and promptly takes off her clothes and proceed to jump in the sea. All of us stopped talking. Except for the 2 Danes. It is so uncomfortable thinking about it because I am sure that we looked like bunch of creeps. Which we are,have to admit. But after she swam a bit she came out, stayed some time next to us and after she dried up she put on the clothes and left.

And the culture around bodies is so much healthier than I grew up with. Perhaps that's a personal thing. I'm not sure.

People just seem to enjoy their bodies more.

Sex is another one but I won't get into that now.

There's a lot of things that I find interesting here. I'll probably write more in the future. For now this is it.

north

For a long time I have an urge to go far north. There's something deep inside of me that calls me. Not sure what but I want to test myself. As if one should accept their own insignificance.

I'd like to murder my ego. Test my body. Get close to my death. See if I can get out. Learn about myself. Or just become one of so many untold stories of demise.

Because you will never feel more alive than a moment you die.

But.

There is always a 'but'.

And 'but' negates everything previously stated.

Harry Belafonte

You were about eight months old when you heard Harry Belafonte for the first time. You loved his music. That's something you inherited from your grandfather. Dida Toni. I grew up with Harry's music, I liked it, but not like you. I would listen to your grandpa's select tunes on a cassette over and over again during different road trips. I still have a reflex when a "Island in the sun" song is about to end to start singing the famous "day'o". I'll explain cassettes to you one day. When I get a cassette player.

You would think that "Day'o" was about you. You would flinch every single time. Genuinely curious and cute to die for. 

You should know that I tried to push you to classical violin. Your excitement lasted from when you were 6 months until half an hour after I played Ma vlast by Smetana.

But Harry you chose. 

And you would sometimes sing his songs.

On the day I am writing this he passed away. 

He wasn't a big part of my life until you made him that. And I feel sad. Perhaps so you wouldn't.

Remember people through their deeds.

You made Harry live beyond his lifetime every time you sang "Te'o".

Love

Tata

Volvo. A love story

When I was a young boy I loved my car. Because it reminded me of my dad. It was a Volvo 340. It was a reddish purple color,four door small saloon that had it's first night layover traveling from Rotterdam to Koper in Dachau. By mistake of my father and his friend. In 1986. Two newly made captains. That didn't know how to read a map. 

It was loaded with everything possible for me to be born in. It was packed by the Rotterdam's Port warehouse workers as a gift to my dad for my soon coming birth. 

Little did they know that the car they packed would make an impact on a person they only heard of.

It had a 4 speed manual gearshift. Rear wheel drive. No air-conditioning. 2 seatbelts. 1.4l petrol engine with cca 75 bhp. The engine was japanese. I think Isuzu made it. I didn't know until recently but I apparently had my first car accident in it. It lasted until 1996. At least with us. I cried the day my dad told me he's selling it. I was unconsolable for it leaving us. 

It is the reason why I am writing this story. Because I never gave it a name.

My dad took me to a car show in Belgrade in the late nineties and I saw xc70. All of my friends were fascinated by Ferraris, Porsches, Lamborghinis. I was fascinated by the first generation of xc70.

3 years ago my son was born. And Volvo is a part of my family. My son calls him Jagoš. We go together to feed Jagoš. We take care of him because he plays my son's favorite song whenever he wants. It's Made of by Viola Martinsson if anyone wants to listen to it. My son knows every button in it. He loves the power of it and how warm it is in the winter. And when we lie down to have a sleep he says good night to Jagoš. 

One day when I am gone I hope I will be remembered as by my son as I remember my dad. 

If for nothing else, for choosing a car that took care of my family above his image.

child soldiers

I saw a video today. I remembered the day you were born. The smell of the top of your head. First touch. I remembered your first step. First time you said Oče. Our first fight and our first peace. 

How proud I am of your first song you sang to me. Of how proud you were when you assembled a broken pen. 

Of the day you called me to tell me you assembled a gun for the first time. 

A dron was high above a trench. Slowly positioning itself. With a small cross at the center of the frame. Dropped a grenade almost as it was a toy. Exploding by your legs. I saw you reaching out for your gun. Aim it in your mouth. 

And the blood that rushed out. 

From the top of your head.

star dust

Universe is really old. Many,many lifetimes have passed since it all started. In all of that time,all the stars in the sky,all the planets,moons,comets and asteroids,all of them were created and destroyed countless times. Over and over. And in all of that destruction and creation,every single tiniest bit of you and me was created. In the hearts of stars. It took so much time for all of those bits of you to come together so you can be. So you can have this chance to live. And your life is short if you compare it to the life of planets,stars and the universe. 

But, this is what makes it important.

Every joy. Every sadness,every tear,smile,anger, disappointment, girl,boy,every memory you make,all of it happens in this small frame of time you get to spend. All of it is created by stardust you are. You are so unique and beautiful that every ancestor,from the very first life came to be, until me and your mom,have done everything we can to make sure we survive so that you exist. World is hard. It's not evil or good. It just is. It doesn't care about our feelings. You make them meaningful.

Love. And know that you are loved. Because you are unique. There never was and never will be anyone like you.

You are a heart of a star. 

So shine,my #son

void

 I feel like I am yelling into an empty void. I don't know where to turn.

I need a friend.