13-IX-1999.
As early as in Buda, Greg gave me the brochures on how to pass a driver's exam in the US. What a comedy, it's easier than the doggie licence at home, what we call the one that covers only mopeds that don't go faster than 25 km/h.
He took me to DMV in the afternoon. They have this system where you take a number and wait for it to be called. Didn't wait long. The test is passed standing, by a touch screen monitor. Out of 24 questions, failed only two, which involved distances in feet. These czaristic units of measure will be the end of me once.
The practical I drove in Greg's Saab. Nice car, shift slides smoothly, even the imitation wood on dashboard isn't kitschy, they hit the right hue. The examiner was impressed with my elegant shifting. She said she doesn't get to see that every month. Her only critique was that I didn't fully stop at the stop sign. It'll get into my had over time, I said. Presently I have a habit of 25 years of driver's staž under european rules, where it says you have to slow down and even stop if you estimate that it's necessary - but it's your judgement*, and if you estimated wrongly and caused trouble, you're guilty. Well, she said, here you must stop even when there's nobody around. Okaaaay... She didn't even check how I park the car.
They photographed me on the spot, and printed the licence right away, in color, the dye baked into the plastic and probably covered with transparent protective layer. Technics to the people.
Next day (14th) we went to DMV again, to pass the title to the Poozhoe to me. The gift being a complicated procedure, he sold it to me for 1$, which I didn't pay. The Poozhoe was the horse of commons in his wife's restaurant, but it was big, comfortable, starts, goes. And had automatic shift, three gear only, but smooth. It came full of dog hair, coffee stains on the upholstery and doors, and coins in every nook. It being a station wagon (or, in serbian, a karavan, equally stupid name), it had quite a trunk. The fifth door lost the spring long ago, so there was a piece of 2x4 (actually 1,5x3,5 inches, the half inch of plasterboard makes the rest) to prop it up.
The color... shit, silver. We paint stovepipes so at home. But fuckit, that's the fashion, hope it passes soon. Don't look into the gift horse's mouth. The ratinale behind this gift was „so you can come to work“, and also that he needed a new car for the restaurant, it's a tax writeoff.
On the photo, Lena is sitting on the hood of the Poozhoe, in the backlot behind Zero. And no, it's not blue, this was shot at dusk, during the blue hour, around mid october. Dunno why we came here, probably buzzing around before the movie started. Seeing the motorbike behind, I guess Larry was in the shop at the time.
When we got it, it was full of dog hair, coffee stains and coins all over the doors and upholstery, which seems to have been leather or a good fake. It being a station wagon (name just as stupid as our karavan) it had a spacious trunk. The fifth door has long lost the mechanical support, so it wouldn't stay up, which is why it came with a piece of 2x4 to prop it open.
Next day, with Joška:
First impression: it smells of sea, though it's a three hour ride to the coast. It's quite warm in the evening, a t-shirt suffices completely, even though we passed through big rains a few times.
No pictures so far, until the digital camera is dug out - everyone knows it's somewhere, but it's still to early to insist on that.
So, nice hellow
p.s. the coffee is somewhat thin, a filteruša, but lots of it. Can do so, not bad enough.
That's all incredible to us, can imagine how it is to you.
How was it with smoking? Did you manage to light one along the way? Minimaks here pulled one about smoking being forbidden in whole state of New York (in re of miss Levinsky).
We're in a hotel across from the office, and I'm kind of at work (but actually getting to know the guys) and the girls went for a walk.
Across from the office again? I hope they don't have granny Ilonka there (or they have a different name for granny Ilonka there?). Write some more of how's the country, how's the customs. As Asterix would say: are these Romans crazy?
My folks report that Števa came by and „helped us read your message“. Dženk sends his greetings from Canada. The board of aman is deep in discussion, getting organized. Walter sends some initial version of document viewer form to himself, probably so that he can get it at home.
Email to Pali:
...the first day I was using, for a couple of hours, Walter's machine, until I caught the HW/admin guy and told him „I don't exist yet, but I'd like to“. I didn't let him go until I saw proper šđžčć on my new Dell 333 Celer**, 128M, disk smallish, just 6G, monitor small, just about 15" until he unpacks something 17" ('twas a friday...). The AC keeps churning, so I don't even feel like going for a smoke - it's a scorcher outside, only at night it's a nice time for a walk.
Even Škrba emailed a short „Got there? Situated? Accomodated? Calmed down? Started working?“.
From Beatrice: „Hmm... My ISP is having troubles after a thunderstorm took out an electrical substation and fried a phone company switching station. But I seem to have missed any messages about 'safe arrival'. However, welcome to the US!!!“.
Burt on driver's licences: „Ask anyone if driver's tests should be harder, and of course they would say "Yes, we'd finally get those incompetent assholes off the roads. Of course, I'd pass with no problem." But American society would be screwed, since there isn't much public transit, or the will to create it. However, quite a few people fail the existing tests. In fact, I failed the first time because of a mental error. I took my "road" test in Maryland on the grounds of the Motor Vehicle Admin. Since it wasn't a real road (more like an empty parking lot with cones and lanes) I didn't think of signalling or "head checking" anywhere. I had no problem with the written test. However, I was a lousy driver my first few years. I'm not that great now. I don't take the Alfa Romeo to its limits.“
On 14th Greg took us somewhere again to see about an apartment. The first place we checked, Harlem something (they're killing me with originality of their toponyms), looked nice, in a forest, on a slope, with a terrace looking down, but it's all bare plank and there's a string of ten adjacent apartments and the terrace is also the gangway. I can imagine such a place in the tropical zone, not here. This time he found something that a pal of his is renting, i.e. his business is. It's about 120 squares, has washers, a dryer, stove, fridge. Nice balcony facing the forest, it's also on the slope, though not so far in the wilderness like Emmy's place.
Go writes to a friend: „It's great hee. Everything is huge: roads, shops, yards, bathrooms, dogs, cats, people... Yes,people. I've never seen so many fat people in one place. Everyone has money, so they drive, of course they don't walk, and eat in big amounts, so no wonder.“
p.s. the sea smell is not, it's a combination of pine, humidity (though this is about the end of the humid season) and the parking lot, which they regularly spray with tar, to prevent cracks. In total, the smell is nice.
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* few years later they started spelling this „judgment“, in a brief fit of phonetic spells.
** celer = celery, in serbian
Mentions: aman bre, Beatrice Palmieri, Gorana Sredljević (Go), Gradivoj Jankulov (Dženk), Gradivoj Škrbić (Škrba), Greg Reubenthal, Jelena Sredljević (Lena), Joška Apro, Larry Artois, Meagan Marburg (Emmy), Pali Bodor, Poozhoe, Reginald Burton Cape (Burt), staž, Stevan Garaj (Števa), Walter Banks, Zero Distance (Zero), in serbian