WEEKEND REFLECTIONS -- PICK YOUR INSTRUMENT

 There is a reflection here, albeit a tiny one. My dog's head is visible on the black guitar lying in the foreground.  I don't play any instrument, but if I did, I'd  be tempted by the jazzy patchwork guitar on the left.

See other reflections on James' WEEKEND REFLECTIONS.

FORTY-FIVE YEARS AND COUNTING

 In 1977, I arrived in what was then the Socialist Federal Republic of Yugoslavia.  From 1945 to 1963 it had been the People's Republic of Serbia.  From 1963 to 1990 it became the Socialist Republic of Serbia, and since 1990 it is simply (?) the Republic of Serbia.  (I've bookmarked that Wiki page...)

Anyway, the names of the country have changed a bit, but not as much as the street around the corner from me.  Above all is written in Cyrillic, but now the street's name is Svetogorska, or Holy Mountain street, or Mount Athos, home to a Serbian monastery in Greece.  Before that, its names varied according to who was in power, disgraced, a national hero, and so on.

Why am I writing this?  Today marks my 45 years in Wherever I Am now. What will the country and/or street be called when I'm not around anymore?

I could hope for the street to be named after the famous blogger, but that probably won't happen!

CULTURE CLASH

 Belgrade is an architectural mishmash. A new shopping center on the left stands next to an early 1900s building.  Sigh. Such is the way of the world.

STALKED?

 The statue of Nikola Spasic, Serbian businessman, benefactor, humanitarian, and one of the leaders of the Serbian Chetnik Organization in Old Serbia and Macedonia, appears to  be stalked by a woman in a burka, but no.  "She" is merely a cafe umbrella all wrapped up.

MARCH THEME DAY: SOLITUDE...not loneliness.

Solitude.  It isn't the same as loneliness, in fact, it is often just the opposite. One can be very happy in solitude, as I often am.  Loneliness is a sad state.

A few years ago I spent two months in a small, remote village in Uttarakhand, India. I was teaching English there in a small school for impoverished children. Of course I had company, but because of communication issues, no real deep conversations for that amount of time.

I was not lonely, nor was I bored. I imagine it was also the case of this man in the photo. If there were no fog, you would be able to see the magnificent mountains beyond.

See other interpretations of solitude on CITY DAILY PHOTO THEME DAY.
 

RAKIJA "Čokanji"

 The Number One drink here in Serbia is plum brandy, "rakija od  šljiva" known as "slivovica" or elsewhere, slivovitz, is a kind of brandy or rakija (RAH-kee-ya).  Rakija can  be made from many fruits, as you can guess from the photo above, and is brought out at any occasion from weddings to funerals.

"Čokanji" is pronounced CHO-kahn-yee.

Cheers!

SENIOR CHIC

 What caught my eye from a distance (this photo is a major crop) was the lady on the right's outfit. I could tell she was an 'older' person, and seniors here often dress according to their category, i.e. darker colors, nothing eye-catching, etc.

When I enlarged the photo, I saw she was indeed rather chic, albeit grumpy-looking, too. Reds and blacks!

CIGARETTE BREAK

 The coronavirus looms over these two smokers and the child on the mural. 

OLD HABITS DIE HARD

 Such is the case with me. I have not lived in France for years, and unfortunately haven't visited much either, especially now with the pandemic.

However, I still succumb to some very French habits, as seen above. There are now some really good bakeries here that specialize in 'foreign' breads and such. This demi-baguette (don't worry; I bought a whole one...) is for me like Proust's madeleine. One bite and I am in France.

Note the mug and the 'vaches' butter dish, s'il vous plaît.

SERBIA ROCKS!

 A play on words here, or maybe not, if you are a party goer. I intended the 'rocks' to be a noun, not a verb, but then I should have added an 'n' to 'Serbia' to make it an adjective, but I digress.

In any case, this is part of my collection of rocks from here and there in Serbia. Should have labeled them, but didn't. I especially like the 'gold' streaked one in the foreground.

HARD TIMES

 A sad but frequent sight in almost any large city.  At first glance, however disheveled he may appear, the shopping bags may make you think he has been to a supermarket. However, I've seen this fellow several times going through garbage bins with the same bags. He's refused any monetary help from me.