Here and there, I pass part of Kozari Puteva, which otherwise goes wide. A part where all the rules cease to be valid, where street life is taking place, whereby the children are sliced with ice-cream, part of which literally looks like the scenes for the film of Emir Kusturica.
The part through which Bandic crossed like Borat through the ponds, which caused Kozari Bok and Kozari Putevi to get the epithet - "Gypsy".
Unfair, completely. I know a lot of Zagreb settlements that can boast of the same or even greater number of this nomadic people, but it is unfair, too, to pretend they do not. There are, and I will not even try to be politically correct and write about Roma, but I will call them Gypsies, because if I'm in a safe place, then the fact is that the Gypsy name is not a bit offensive:
"Jewel, do you feel angry when someone says you're a gypsy?" I ask in one of the study walks with the dirty worm.
"The Gypsy I, but the most beautiful," I was told in the folk version of the reply by little Cigo with two different sneakers on his feet. Here and there, I was surprised by the visits, but they stopped for a long time to wonder about the "blubber" that the office in the yard was full of garbage. They are tirelessly telling me this and that on my "television", and I tirelessly explain that I'm working on the portal, I'm kidding to turn off my cell phone because I'm in "roming", marriage bargains fall, all through the drooping noise of oriental folks.
"What are you celebrating?" I ask the gathered crowd on the dusty road.
"Nothing is Saturday," they respond to wonder, because who still needs a reason for music and dance.
"They are right," I think, and I throw my eye on the scattered houses ... One of the bricks, the other is like a cardboard, a third wall window, and almost everyone has something in common. Courtyards full of children with a smile from ear to ear. I have not seen happier children anywhere in the world as there is a mahale, the dirty snakes that dangerously compete with Jakuševac, that unique "garbage dump" ...
There is also a Zehrin House. Leni Zehra invited me to the wedding.
"You're beautiful," I surprised her from behind, and she smiled the widest in the world:
- Are you, macky? Are you still on television?
"I'm not on television but on the portal," I say.
- So can this be bought? Is there a kiosk?
- No, Zehra ... Portal, the internet, do you go home?
"Ahaaaa, I live," he says, and I see he has no idea.
So you continue:
- I, here, I change, Jasmina's wife on Friday!
Jasmin is one of 13's children (at least I think I stopped counting.) Zehra has 43, and in continuity she is pregnant for one 20 year. Constantly. Even though it seemed to me that he was wearing something in the pants now, I did not ask anything.
- Come on Friday at six o'clock to see me!
- Well, I do not know, I'll see - I start sloppy.
- Come on! You will be my guest! Al no alcohol, so you know! It's a Muslim wedding - she says and regrets her wedding on Friday and her teeth are "finished" in 10. month ".
- You see? - Open your mouth and proudly proudly on one tooth, four on the right.
"But, do you have somebody cheap to pick me up for a wedding?" He asks me, pointing at his hand as if he was shooting the camera.
- I do not know her.
- Aaaaaa, sister, so how do you do on TV?
- Ma, on the portal I am Zehra ...
And sometimes, at times, I do not know what I'm doing, I'm trying to figure out why I'm not doing my life, why not beautify my homes, trying to figure out whether there are so many children in love or because of social help, I'm trying to figure out whether they are happy or no, I do not stop asking them.
And more or less they give me answers to all the questions, in response to the question of what their formula for happiness has not yet received.
I do not believe that I will. Because to be unreasonably happy, you have to be born like Jevad or Zehra, you have to wear a variety of sneakers, squeeze ice cream, and stop over the dusty street somewhere deep in Kozara Puteva.
Author: Snježana Vučković