Stories
Before we left, we received numerous warnings that Eastern Europe would be a dangerous, depressing, soul-suck full of steely thousand yard glares and ferocious dogs.....
Belgrade. For a Western-raised mind like mine this name for many years evoked pictures of war and bombs, of aggression and dictatorship. And so when, in 2006, I first went to Belgrade, that grey and grim epitome of all things negative, I was anxious to see, hear and feel what it was....
The English have pubs, the French their cafes, Italians their ice cream parlours, the Greek Tavernas and we, Serbians, have Kafanas or second homes as we spend more time there than at home.
Kafanas are a cult for Serbian people and any self-respecting Serb has kafana or two. Maybe....
I am sitting on the 3rd floor of my mum’s apartment in the city center of Belgrade and emailing all around the world wishing a Merry Christmas to all my friends scattered around the globe, from Rachel in Nepal who is doing charity work after being dumped yet again, to Elke in Thailand....
Before we left, we received numerous warnings that Eastern Europe would be a dangerous, depressing, soul-suck full of steely thousand yard glares and ferocious dogs. So far, these stereotypes couldn’t be further from the truth. The genuine kindness and generosity we’ve....
As soon as you talk about raising a kid here as a foreigner, locals will quickly point out the disadvantages: The bad air quality in Belgrade, the mess in the education system, cars on the sidewalk blocking your stroller, the “poor” look and feel of the city’s swimming....
Maybe it was the excitement of the underground clubs and floating restaurants, learning the national dance, meeting the Crown Prince or gazing out from the ‘wall of the in-loves’ to where the Danube and Sava Rivers meet, but whatever it was about the Balkan state, it truly captured....
If I say it in London, I am met with surprise. If I say it in Belgrade, I am met with disappointment. But I just keep on saying it, hoping that eventually the simple and ineloquent truth of the statement will eventually penetrate stuffed ears and thickly conditioned minds:
Serbia....
It seems there’s something of a debate going on here these days about whether Belgrade is “beautiful” and it got me to thinking, what is ‘beautiful’? How do we define it?
As a photographer, beauty is an important part of what I do. In even the most depressing images there....
