16-VI-1973.: Kragujevac
We got together at the bus [station] - Beštara, Z. of DC-99, the little radist, the fat guy from IV6.73, little M. from DC-99 and the others. In Novi we met the rest, many known ones, few of those from a couple of weeks ago, and those of whom I just had news then.
The little radist smote the little M. so we called him Little Fucker for the duration, and Z. became the Tourist (he was with her, previously). In Kragujevac we had acommodation in the dorm of medical high. Still nothing going on, we only had fun simmering, sort of, the waitresses to bring us repeats. In the evening we sort of chased some girls, more in a tourist way (though not quite sure that Beštara caught none) except, of course, the Little Fucker. The rest of us went to watch Yugrupa from afar, and then had a drink on a terrace somewhere and ran off to hit the hay, we were tired of the trip.
Opening ceremony in the morning, despite bad weather (high water, i.e. we all wanted to pee, and muggy all around). A parachuter landed on the square and then they held speeches, paraded etc... the usual. At the competition we could have done better had the Little used more of brains. We walked about ten kilometers (because we couldn't bring any motocycles) all over Šumarice, at least we were outside. That air.
(this was shot, unbelievably, at sunrise, when the streets were still empty and wet from the night's rain; there's another shot like this, with our spanking new Mercedes bus and the sun appearing low among the clouds; picked this one because it shows the first appearance of these new orange lights, reserved for more important crossings)
In the afternoon cooled it off in Novisadists' room, some stupid Rada fell all over for some Lajči. Took their motorbike, Beštara and I, and drove a couple of rounds around the area, me with a bandanna so passers by were frappeed seeing us. Then had more fun with the waitresses. In the evening we wanted to go somewhere but didn't feel like going for the school show, the dance was low in attendance, fery few people there, so we came back to the waitresses - actually the girls from medical high, who occupied the top floor, which was live pee indeed. There some guy Džesi and I sort of started a few chicks, me purely for the purpose of staying in shape, didn't put too much of myself into the role. In Tourist's jacket we found a prayer book and the dream of our lady the godsbirther, read the prayers aloud, rolled laughing. One of the younger guys, from Ruma, took a blanket as a mantija (orthodox priest's uniform) and went by the elementary school dorms, woke them up, read the good night prayer, shouted "sleep!" and slammed the door, then went to the next room. In the morning, it was the good morning prayer, at six.
On monday we were tourists. Good girls around again, went up to the medical high floor, they treated me a cake. Little Fucker reserved the room since morning. Killed part of the afternoon cooling it off with some hit off bosnian girl - redhead, freckled, upturned nose, pure irish.
About two hours before dinner everyone started listening to their transistor radios. "Radio Kragujevac speaking, this is a special emisija for, er, participants in the contests. Here are the competition results." And goes on with the folks from Vojvodina team having hit the most of the prizes. Lots of congratulations, several treats... The "radio" was in a wardrobe room on our floor. Some guy from Pančevo reworked his SW transmitter to MW, plugged a microphone and went on. I joined in, with a special anouncement about the dance tonight. Then went on reading the football scores from a newspaper, with which the drawer of the table was lined, who knows how many years old. Around dinner the bluff was already through, but every now and then someone would come in, announce his victory and get everyone's laughter after mentioning that he "heard it on the radio". They all knew, he didn't.
(On Šumarice, the famous „Broken V“ monument in the bacground. Left, Z. and Little Fucker; in the back, the fat guy; right, sitting Beštara; me lying on the grass. Shot with some wide film Yashica from the club, 60x60mm negative)
The laugh of the day was when I saw the Fat, Z. and Little standing around their room door and nowhere to go, because Džesi kicked them out and locked the room. During dinner, the redhead served us as if we were turkish agas and beys. Then, I did know we were some frajers, but from talks here I got the measure of our strength.
(though, those who live in Kragujevac, or have a room rent, don't live in the dorm)
In the evening we had about hour and a half more fun with the girls on the terrace upstairs, then went off somewhere, exed a false rum on some terrace, then it was closing time. Went to another place, had one more drink and ćevapčići, closing again. Though one guy got a maraschino instead of gin, but that got settled.
When we got out, the rain stopped. One of the Novisadists, drunk as a slat, dropped his cigarette six times, sometimes lit sometimes not. Then he conquered the hold, but couldn't keep the ember alive, it went out a dozen times. Then he assiste birth on Kikus; after five times (of two fingers down the throat) the guy finally puked. We got to the dorm around two.
The time when you're seventeen and still not quite clear on how high is your booze bar and how different drinks operate, so at some point after peeing you spot yourself in the mirror. And take a good long look. As if it wasn't me. Doesn't sober you much, just gives you a lot of insight.
Then Kikus threaded the microphone through my sleeve and we recorded this guy's blabber - his complaints about having a small dick, just 14cm, and how he once so riled up one little one that she wanted to fuck but he couldn't do it after ten vinjaks ("vinjaka" is usually pronounced with accent on first syllable and the rest are in lower pitch; Novi pronounces them with rising accent on second and high pitch on the last, recognizable from an airplane). Then he sang, seven songs at once while composing the eighth. At half five we gave up on sitting and went to kill the owl* for the remaining few hours to breakfast.
We were late in the morning, of course, so we didn't go to visit "Crvena Zastava", rather sat up there on the terrace with the medicals. One fell deeply in love with Beštara. We keep like courting them, but I'm already missing my old one, this is not it.
Tuesday, 19th. Medals ceremony not good at all, the youth categories weren't even handed out, only the elementary. The TT (terrain something teams - my discipline) wasn't even mentioned in the bulletin. Nice hall, even nicer chaos.
Were late for lunch too, but then when we got there we were served and pampered. Strange turn - first you court the waitress to get repeats, then you ask for repeats to court the waitress. I specially expressed the kudos to the redhead Bosnian. (wish I at least remembered how she looked)
Finally had enough sleep on the bus. Only then and there I found out that our M. was from šećerana. Who'd a thunk.
In the evening, Sneca's eighteenth birthday. Somehow made her extend treats to more people - including Dragana and Tejka. Š. rubs his beer to warm it up. Bosa laughed heartily to my recount of novisadistic jokes and accent. The croud dispersed somewhat rapidly. She wasn't there.
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* sova - owl, soviti - to sleep (slang), kill the owl - kill the time by sleeping (stronger slang)
Mentions: 06-II-1974., 01-V-1974., Bosiljka Šain (Bosa), ćevapčići, DC-99, Dragana Vitas (Dragana), emisija, frajer, IV6.73, Milovan Sebešćen (Beštara), Novi Sad, Slavica Tejin (Tejka), Snežana Stojanović (Sneca), šećerana, vinjak, in serbian