17-V-2014.: Second day
We thought we may not be able to get to Lena, as the floods were everywhere south and east of Beglrade, and we saw water on the ground here and there when we approached the city, but no. It was completely surreal - everything normal, not even the rush to buy bottled water and bread that I've seen on the photos (I was reading ppp most of the afternoon and evening last two days). And yet at the same time, only twenty-some kilometers up the Sava, Obrenovac was flooded to the roofs. There was still some rain along the way, patchy and mostly more mist than rain. Didn't even wet the road.
We brought her the remaining things she left at home last time (when she moved out of the previous apartment and moved to Zlija - just a couple of bags and a tray of apple pie (which is a cross between our lazy pie and the american pie, though the latter would be round). The new apartment is near her job, which can be seen from its terrace. Then we went for a walk, taking the quay street - which may be full of people laying sacks of sand in a couple of days, we'll see - and eventually decided to go two blocks to the other side of the Pupin boulevard to that hypermarket (which I've learned to hate... it's Walmart replanted) to get her a few neccessities.
Shot this one as we walked... to have on record that someone threw the spoon here*. Replicating a verbal pun in a photo seems pointless to me, just as silly as the so-called film grammar, which counts on images having the same effect as the words denoting the things seen in them. Well no, my verbal and visual associations are completely separate. It's just that this time the scene was, well, strong enough to stand on its own, worth one shot and the time I took to achieve the contrast I had in my eyes at the time.
(now this is where I'm stealing from myself, i.e. what I wrote on suština in may next year)
When we go shopping, it usually means the girls go inside and I stay outside, have a smoke and scout the area. And I do find all kinds of ambiences. Here I knitted at least four good ones for here (and also takeout), and picked from that, by method of learned randomness (tought myself that), this one.
Someone had the idea that these light balls should be the illumination here. Who knows, maybe they did last. The remaining one looks like it went through a lot. I'm not even sure whether the bulb inside is of the old greenish neon type, or did the ball sprout algae, which then pigeons scratched in a few places and fertilized in return.
The place is... fuckit, maybe I'd be able to find it again. Somewhere near the new Merkurator (as granma called the old Merkator), roughly. By the entrance into the passway (bgd. pasaž) there's only a plate advertising the exchange shop in the yard. There are several stands with clothes, bags, belts and such. May is the month, but it's still cold after the rain (the floody), jackets are worn. The light is so, cloudy and smudgy.
Novi Beograd used to be the big dormitory, because practically all the buildings were residential, with a smatter of shops, restaurants and the rest. But just like any shoe will chafe only while it chafes, and if it isn't completely made of plastic, it will be broken in. So is this architecture, made of pure organic natur concrete (aka brutalism, about which we already have) lived to see second generation grow in it and fill it with themselves. And to begin creating ambiences. And that concrete, which didn't look merry when it was new, now as it started sprouting cracks, crumbling and gaining rusty and sooty streaks, looking shitty altogether - actually doesn't look that bad anymore.
On adjacent shots: two dozen easels with no painters nor paintings, some carpenter must be making and selling them. Someone carries a huge table board. Pigeons find something to peck at.
The cafe owner hit it red, to counter all that, both columns and shades, which reflect nicely on the surrounding concrete. Perhaps all of this looked much happier a few days later, when the rains passed and the unexpectedly warm weather for this time of year has lured out numerous walkers (as the eternal phrase from news went, I hope I remembered the words in correct order), but on a snotty cloudy day this was already good enough.
Epilogue: half an hour later we were cooked - the sun broke into full blast, and we had winter jackets. The whole concrete oasis sentiment just sank.
(so much for suština, back to the story now)
The most of all the purchase was the vacuum cleaner. Picked one with a swirl chamber, which picks the most of the dust before it hits the filter bag. The young lady at the desk, who was to fill our warranty, was first a bit grumpy as she had a bit of a queue to serve (plus to call her boss because there was a young girl who wanted to put a stand to collect aid for the flood victims next to the carts corral), but while she was doing our paperwork, she asked where were we from. Because of the accent? ...and she was from Kikinda. How we always recognize each other.
Lena tried out the insucker ("usisivač", literally translated) and it worked fine. Trip home was kind of boring, only one idiot from Pančevo. Sometimes we see three or four.
Skype chat with Nina and Go in the evening. Raja seems to be learning to read on his own, from the games, even though he still doesn't speak properly. He said "no bullets" because the game said so... in letters.
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* „throw the spoon“ - to die. Long story.
Mentions: Gorana Sredljević (Go), Ilija Ćirilov (Zlija), Jelena Sredljević (Lena), Nevena Sredljević (Nina), ppp, Ryu (Raja), suština, in serbian