My work has been gloriously engaging, but Belgrade has been equally so. It's a really, truly wonderful city. During my first day here I wandered (as I am generally prone to do) into a bookshop, and emerged a happy hour late with a book called "A Guide to the Serbian Mindset", by Momo Kapor, an artist and painter who had lived almost his whole life in Belgrade. It is a deeply charming collection of his best columns and musings about the city he loved so much, and it has significantly enhanced my appreciation - and enjoyment - of this place. The Balkans in general - and Serbia in particular - often get a lot of bad press in the West, for all sorts of good and bad reasons, so I thought I'd do my own little bit here to show the other side. I do not, of course, claim to be any sort of expert, having spent just a month here, so please read the below with that in mind, and forgive me my inevitable errors, generalizations and inaccuracies.
If one wishes to understand Belgrade (either culturally or architecturally) the first thing one must know is that it holds the dubious honor of having been destroyed and rebuilt more than any other surviving city. The jury is slightly out on the final number, but 42 and 47 are oft-quoted figures. Yes, that's right, this city has been destroyed and rebuilt over 40 times. Which, in my opinion, says enormously powerful things about both the resilience of its inhabitants and their attachment to this little plot of land. And one can see this somewhat exhausting history every time when walks down a street in the old town, as Austro-Hungarian style buildings vie for space with squat Ottomon-influenced ones, communist monstrosities and grandiose early twentieth century mansions. The whole city is a patchwork of the different influences that have passed across this territory over the last thousand years.
The geographical location of Belgrade has been a key shaping factor of this city in another way, however. Belgrade sits on the confluence of 2 great rivers - the Danube and the Sava. And just above the spot at which the two rivers intermingle there is a hill, which the denizens of Belgrade have, for centuries, understandably seen as a vital defensive location. They therefore built - at various times and in various styles - Kalemegdan Fort. Of all its incarnations I cannot imagine that any have been more pleasant than the current one, where all the nooks and crannies previously used for storage have been turned into outdoor sports facilities, and the two strategic towers are now lively bars featuring live music.
Every evening hundreds of people - mostly locals, as far as I can tell, promenade along the front looking down at the beautiful view, and gently shooing their children away from the precipitous edges.
It's particularly beautiful at sunset, when the sky and river turn as many shades or orange and red as the mountains of nectarines, peaches and apricots that weigh down the many market stalls across the city. Every time I walk there - and I go often - I discover another lovely corner, and another surprising view. My camera isn't particularly good in low light, but I hope these give you some idea...
I find Belgrade to be a startlingly pleasant place to live. I've lived in 'Great Cities', such as London, in some of world's poorest countries, such as Sierra Leone and Kenya, and in 'rising powers', such as South Africa. But I can honestly say that I have never lived anywhere that seems to have been so successful in combining comfortable, cosmopolitan living with a relaxed sense of community. All without losing its unique character. The weather is delightful (if a little hot), the food is varied, fresh and reasonably priced. And overall the atmosphere of the city feels a little like I imagine Berlin might have felt a decade ago; the streets are filled with art (of varying qualities...), new bars and restaurants pop up in every available space, and at the weekend the bass from the party boats that dot the river echoes faintly over the city.
And then, of course, there are the Serbs. Who my (French) boyfriend repeatedly exclaims are remarkably similar to his own countrymen (and women): perhaps a little crusty initially, but boundlessly warm and generous as soon as one has scraped the surface.
I am particularly intrigued by Serbian women. Momo Kapor had a wonderful essay about the thriftiness of the Serbian matriach, and painted a wonderful picture of middle-aged ladies in headscarves furiously pickling, drying and salting throughout the summer to a bounty of produce in the leaner months. These women are still very much visible in Belgrade, picking over the bruised fruit at market stalls and haggling furiously with the butcher. A bought some green beans from a lady such as this on Saturday, and despite each having only 3 words of the other's language we managed an engaging 15 minute conversation. She signalled that Serbian men are very lazy, that she must work 2 jobs to look after her family, and that I must eat more or no-one would marry me. This last comment was actually entirely mis-directed, as compared to the average young Serbian women is as lean, and elegant as a swan, and twice as beautiful. I may ferociously disagree with the underlying premise, but I do understand where Momo Kapor was coming from when he stated that "Bringing your wife to Belgrade is like taking rice to China". I have never been to a city so full of beautiful, stylish women. And they are outperforming men on a number of metrics; the score higher on average in maths and sciences at school, and are significantly more likely to graduate from university. They are, indeed, a force to be reckoned with.
Especially since their mothers and grandmothers will ensure that they go out into the world with enough cheese and pickled fruit to sink a battleship.
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