Novembar nam je doneo mnogo toga novog, nove brojke i strahove, nova žarišta i mere. Nekada je zima asocirala na daleke destinacije, kupanje u moru tokom praznika, iako talasi ne mirišu kao naš Jadran. Ko nas je odvojio? Novembar nam je takođe doneo kašnjenje gradske rasvete posvećene Bugarima, medvede na instagram fotkama. Kakve su to novogodišnje mečke, zna li neko? Irvase ti li si? Ugojio si se. Mi smo. Tokom prolećnog zaključavanja kada je vremenska prognoza bila najdivnija u zadnjih sto godina, ugojih se par kilograma jer sam za večeru jeo žu-žu. Tokom leta se ništa nije menjalo iako smo bili slobodniji da šetamo. Jesen je donela crni oblak te ko je lud da šeta i udiše nečije grejanje. Kažu. Spremam se lagano za slavu kada ćemo sakrivati goste kao kakvi jataci, u nedostatku šporeta na drva tražiti ćoškove za igranje „žmire“ sa komunalnom milicijom. Dobro veče, izvolite ući, pre svega žito i vino, red je. Uđite, imam ih samo petoro, tašta se ne računa, ona je inventar. Kako mislite ne jedete iz iste kašičice? Vera o tome propoveda. Niste vernik? Niste onda ni Srbin da ja vama kažem, a ako to niste, ne znam kako možete biti milicajac, da li je to po zakonu? To se pas čuje iz susedne sobe, kakav šesti gost. Pa popio je malo, valja se. Pa se sada valja.
November brought us a lot of new things, new numbers and fears, new hotspots and measures. Once upon a time, winter was associated with distant destinations, swimming in the sea during the holidays, although the waves do not smell like our Adriatic. Who separated us? November also brought us a delay in city lighting dedicated to Bulgarians and bears on Instagram photos. What kind of New Year's bears are those, does anyone know? Are you a reindeer? You've gained weight. We are. During the spring lock, when the weather forecast was the most wonderful in the last hundred years, I gained a few kilos because I ate žu-žu for dinner. During the summer, nothing changed, although we were freer to walk. Autumn brought a black cloud and who is crazy to walk and breathe someone's warmth. They say. I am slowly preparing for the glory when we will hide the guests like some kind of hideouts, in the absence of a wood stove, look for corners to play “hide and seek with the local police. Good evening, please come in, first of all grain and wine, it's time. Come on in, I only have five of them, my mother-in-law doesn't count, she's inventory. What do you mean you don't eat from the same spoon? Faith preaches about it. You are not a believer? Then you are not a Serb, let me tell you, and if you are not, I don't know how you can be a policeman, is that by law? That dog is heard from the next room, what a sixth guest. Well, he drank a little, okay. So it's okay now.
Kada smo kod mečki, više volim beemvea. Kako čudno izgleda ovaj auto kada se napiše po srpskom. Svaka čast kafeteriji Gardoš na prelepoj nesvakidašnjoj dekoraciji, ali i na potezu da istu skine zbog nesnosne gužve koja se svakodnevno stvarala u slavu fotkanja. U slavu Instagrama gde skidamo maske protiv virusa, a mećemo druge neke. Pućenje. Praznici nam stižu, uskoro će i vakcina. Zaprepašćen sam ispijao svoju ledenu moku za jednim od tri vanjska stola kafeterije, koju inače preporučujem, gledajući izblajhanu majku koja je u zanosu učila svoju sedmogodišnju ćerku kako da se ispravno pući i ističe grudi na fotkama. Ne preterujem, zaista se to i desilo. Bila je ponosna na svoje istančane gene koje prenosi i ostavlja svetu. Kada rekoh da preporučujem, mislio sam na moku.
Speaking of “mečki, više volim beemvea” (Mečka - Mercedes Benz/ Beemve - BMW /BGD slang). How strange this car looks when written in Serbian. Congratulations to Gardoš cafeteria for the beautiful unusual decoration, but also on the move to take it off because of the unbearable crowd that gathered every day in the glory of photography. In honor of Instagram, where we take off the masks against the virus, but post others. Baam! The holidays are coming, the vaccine will be here soon. Astonished, I drank my iced mocha at one of the three outdoor tables of Cafeteria, which I normally recommend, watching a bleached mother who in ecstasy taught her seven-year-old daughter how to shoot properly and emphasize her breasts in the photos. I'm not exaggerating, it really happened. She was proud of her refined genes that she transmits and leaves to the world. When I said I recommend, I meant mocha.
Razmišljam o tome kada sam poslednji put otkrio nešto novo u sopstvenom gradu, neki prašnjavi ugao, ulicu kojom više ne prolaze haljine, mirise čudne. Da li živimo u dovoljno velikom gradu koji može da ponudi tu mogućnost da tokom celog života otkrivate nešto novo? Da je grad naš karakter, bilo bi materijala za još tri života. Uvek koračamo utabanim stazama, jer se tako osećamo najsigurnije, a ta sigurnost nam vrlo često uskraćuje slobodu. Nedostaje mi da znojav igram pod otvorenim nebom, uz muziku i numere čije reči zna ceo svet ali ne i ja. Možda bi me ove virusne maske sprečile da se blamiram dok izgovaram recept za burek umesto stihova o ljubavi. Novembar nešto i ne volim. Znam da su boje čarobne negde tamo gde ima drveća. Nažalost često ga otimaju iz beogradskih života, hej Beograđani beton nije asocijacija za urbano. Pokušavam da objasnim. Novembrom ne perem auto, a uporno blizu ponoći kada se kući vraćam jedino parking mesto nalazim na improvizovanom parkingu u dubokom blatu parcele spremne za novogradnju. Gde se čuje dok prdite. Prdim i ja ovde, u tim momentima žalim za stavovima da više betona nije potrebno ovom gradu. Zbog čega ne perem auto tokom ovog meseca? Da li ste čuli za fazon „no shave november“? E pa nije to razlog.
I always think about when I last discovered something new in my own city, some dusty corner, a street where dresses no longer pass or strange smells. Do we live in a big enough city that can offer that opportunity to discover something new throughout your life? If the city was our character, there would be material for three more lives. We always walk the beaten path, because that is how we feel safest, and that security very often deprives us of our freedom. I miss playing sweaty under the open sky, with music and songs whose words the whole world knows but not me. Maybe these viral masks would stop me from embarrassing myself while saying a recipe for burek instead of love verses. November is something I don't like. I know the colors are magical somewhere where there are trees. Unfortunately, they often kidnap those mentioned trees from our Belgrade lives, hey, Belgraders, concrete is not an association for the urban. I'm trying to explain. I don't wash my car in November, and persistently close to midnight when I return home, I find the only parking space in the improvised parking lot in the deep mud of the plot ready for new construction. Where even your farting is heard. I'm farting here too, in those moments I regret the views that this city doesn't need more concrete. Why am I not washing my car this month? Have you heard of the "no shave november" style? Well, that's not the reason.
Razloga je trista da ne volim ovaj grad ali mu se uporno umiljavam kao plišanoj mečki pre trideset godina. Hej, trideset godina, kako se samo Beograd izgradio! Neću kriti da obožavam oblakodere i da se radujem svakom novom koji nikne. Ne volim tržne centre, one sa pacovima niti one sa najboljim terasama. Gde se ponovo slikate za instagram ljudi moji. Zamislite da su me uposlili da pišem o putovanjima za časopis naše avio kompanije za decembarsko izdanje, mesec tokom kojeg se najviše putovalo u svetu koji lagano zaboravljamo.
There are three hundred reasons why I don't like this city, but I persistently caress it like a teddy bear thirty years ago. Hey, thirty years, how only Belgrade was built! I will not hide that I adore skyscrapers and look forward to every new one that sprouts. I don't like shopping malls, those with rats or those with the best terraces. Where you’re taking pictures again, only to post on instagram, people. Imagine being hired to write about travel for our airline magazine for the December issue, the month during which we traveled the most in a world we easily forget.
