To Szeged. I guess this was the one time when oma went with us. Didn't buy much, perhaps few things from the supermarket and some T-shirts at the market. At least a good refresher course on the layout of town (not much of that too, we didn't even get to city center), which I needed some years later.
DBA was still in Dom, and the work on the guide was progressing gradually. We had a few reporters write the articles, and that's from opposite ends of what spectrum they may have. On one end, Dušanka Omoriški, a young girl from nearby village, who made Vanji commit one of his unforgettable gaffes. On the other end, some Miroslav Dravić, "the legend of Banat radio", who's a story unto himself. Around the middle, Blagoje Varmešter, then probably still a student or freshly graduated. And a few others.
About that gaffe... one day we stayed late, perhaps until 18:00. In the office were just Dušanka, Vanji and I. We could have a drink, says he. Okay, I'm on a bike and it was a long day. He spouts his regular "it never hurt me and now it pleases me", and pours one to me one to himself. Completely forgot about her, and she starts cleaning her throat to some dramatic effect. He gets it and starts appologizing, saying "ooops sorry, this completely slipped my mind, we're so used to the fact that the girls who visit here..." and then his voice trailed off. What now? To say "...don't drink"? Can't have that, so to pull himself out of the situation, "... drink from the bottle".
Varmešter was off the horizon for a number of years, then I heard he was a professor in gimnazija, then its director.
Drava is, as I said, a separate story. One of those who know everybody, and know everything about everyone, which somehow fits a reporter's job description. With the difference that in november he signed into SPS and didn't dare tell anyone. So once he came to DBA with more texts, and Milka greeted him with "where are you, espeeesser?". He was visibly embarassed, tried to pull some flimsy excuses, along the line of "yes I am a member now but that is not the party such as you imagine, inside it's quite different". Oh yeah, right. When, some time around early spring, he hired me on the side to do a school newspaper, just four pages (with ad from some sponsor, which means he got some cash out of it for sure), ventura preinstalled on the target machine, it was in the space rented by some WeelDeelPress in the komitet building. The building was beowned by SPS (i.e. they declared ownership as inheritors of the communist party, which in turn was not the owner of the building at all; they lost the claim some 20+ years later). They used it for free, and rent it piecemeal to various private companies, mostly owned by their own prominent members, just like this one was, though I never bothered to find out who the owner was.
It was a hard afternoon's work. ventura was written for windowses, not GEM, and it was very sluggish. I was supposed to get 200 marks for the work, which I never got. Instead of paying me, he began to avoid me. He'd change direction, cross the street, whenever he saw me. Which lasted about two years until he forgot about it. But I didn't forget.
And then, one day, there he stands on the štrafta with two girls, trying his best to impress them, and notices me. Instantly calculates that his rating will jump a bit if he shows as a pal of mine, because I did look interesting - the beard and hair got longer again, and I didn't sound illiterate - so he waved me, greeted me, made room to include me in the circle and generally created the impression that we were best pals. In the same camaraderie I slap his shoulder and go "where are you, Drava, old house, howzitgoin... and have you no worry about that matter, those two hundred marks that you owe me since two years ago, there's absolutely no problem, we ain't no ogres, whenever you get up, it can wait, no hurry at all...". There, you wanted advertising of your persona? You got it for free.
I think I didn't see him afterwards.