“Radno Vreme,” said the sign on the front of the shop. I assumed it meant something about hours of working, from context.
“Vrlo rado,” said my brain, which insisted on drawing a connection that isn’t really there. Many words that have to do with work begin with “rad” but not all words that begin with “rad” pertain to work. A big chunk of them pertain to rejoicing.
My mother used to warn me not to take out a map on the sidewalk in any city. The concern being that I might as well shout “I’m not from here, take my wallet.”
That particular issue hasn’t occurred since the spread of smartphones and high data speeds, but I did one better yesterday; I pulled out a thick hardcover English/Serbian dictionary on the sidewalk to look up ‘vreme.’
It means time, in case you’re curious.
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I have a list of projects I intended to think on while I’m here. I had all these plans of sitting down and carving out structures, marketing plans, feasibility projections.
Now that I’m in Belgrade, all I want to do is, well, be here. I’m sure this is complicated by the fact that I’m off my ADHD medication, due to the way the US handles controlled substances and the amount of time I’m out of the country for. Without those pills, I struggle to maintain a linear thread of thought.
Of course, without them I also have an appetite and am better hydrated. And I lived without them for over 30 years.
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Anyhow, I’m here, I’m happy, and my Serbian language skills are atrocious. Off to register with the Serbian workshop my friend Carol recommended I go.
-Stoya
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