Almost four weeks already! Serbia is full of surprises and random laughter. I apologize for the lack of updating, it took until yesterday to get a reliable internet source. After about two hours of broken English and even more broken Serbian, my landlord managed to do the impossible and hook me up with wireless. You've missed quite a lot, but have no fear, I'm not going to bog you down with blog posts. Instead you'll get random flashbacks on the days that I don't have anything terribly interesting to report. I should start you off with a look back at day three in Serbia.
Kyle, his youngest daughter, two American girls, a Serbian translator/tag-a-long, a Gypsy Pastor and I drove through the city. This in itself was slightly overwhelming and when we parked under an overpass I started to get a bit worried. I knew we were there to donate some clothes to the gypsies living somewhere, I just had no idea what we were about to walk into. As we walked away from the van we were being watched by several children and women. We started walking towards what looked like a single house built entirely out of trash. It was simply the gateway to this "hidden in plain sight" gypsy town.
We walked down what could generously be referred to as a "street" and met the families living there. The families along this street are all part of the same clan or what we'd probably call an extended family. Most of them also attend the Pastor's church or meet with him on some sort of basis.
The ingenuity is astounding. They steal transformers from the nearby train tracks in order to power the electronics they've found as they sort through trash all over the city, however they don't have running water. They collect and sort the trash into recyclable piles which get them a few measly dinar. Definitely not enough to make a living off of. The kids dress in a strange combination and mix match of things other people threw out.
It isn't like you're imagining though. Yes, the place is a mess and they practically live in the rest of Belgrade's trash...but it doesn't smell and the people are happy, the kids followed us and giggled at Kyle's Serbian. It is heart breaking, you know the kids are growing up with only one option: to become the forgotten and disregarded, to become even less than they already are. We met a girl who had married at thirteen and had her first baby soon after. We met a young boy who knew enough English to make us giggle and I saw him the next day sorting through the trash at the end of my block.
We did hand out a ton of clothes, which were greedily snapped up immediately. It was almost a riot. We came to help that set of families, the more deserving if you will. As soon as the rest of the settlement found out we had free things they came from everywhere trying to get anything they could. These are some photos of that free for all. Kyle made sure to get me in on the action by handing me a bag full of Mardi Gras beads. Yes, exactly. The tangled mess that no one wants in their house. I was tasked with untangling them and giving them to the children huddled around me. If there was ever a moment I doubted my safety it was while I was surrounded by small children and I had a tangled mass of shiny plastic jewels in my hand.
I now have a different understanding of the people I see at the dumpsters every morning and those I pass on the street, the ones who never make eye contact and seem to blend right in. This wasn't my only interaction with the gypsies, nor will it be my last. Keep a look out for the flashback post on our church experience and updates on future interactions.
Kyle, his youngest daughter, two American girls, a Serbian translator/tag-a-long, a Gypsy Pastor and I drove through the city. This in itself was slightly overwhelming and when we parked under an overpass I started to get a bit worried. I knew we were there to donate some clothes to the gypsies living somewhere, I just had no idea what we were about to walk into. As we walked away from the van we were being watched by several children and women. We started walking towards what looked like a single house built entirely out of trash. It was simply the gateway to this "hidden in plain sight" gypsy town.
It isn't like you're imagining though. Yes, the place is a mess and they practically live in the rest of Belgrade's trash...but it doesn't smell and the people are happy, the kids followed us and giggled at Kyle's Serbian. It is heart breaking, you know the kids are growing up with only one option: to become the forgotten and disregarded, to become even less than they already are. We met a girl who had married at thirteen and had her first baby soon after. We met a young boy who knew enough English to make us giggle and I saw him the next day sorting through the trash at the end of my block.
We did hand out a ton of clothes, which were greedily snapped up immediately. It was almost a riot. We came to help that set of families, the more deserving if you will. As soon as the rest of the settlement found out we had free things they came from everywhere trying to get anything they could. These are some photos of that free for all. Kyle made sure to get me in on the action by handing me a bag full of Mardi Gras beads. Yes, exactly. The tangled mess that no one wants in their house. I was tasked with untangling them and giving them to the children huddled around me. If there was ever a moment I doubted my safety it was while I was surrounded by small children and I had a tangled mass of shiny plastic jewels in my hand.
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