An A for B-grade05.21.2007
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| Finalement, cher amis, amigos, et amigettes ("gentil amigettes"...all together now!), I'm in Belgrade, one of my two fave cities on this side of the stripe. Hum Town. Morning noon and night, 2 and a half million sweaty, smoking, sensual Serbs. Love it. I admist I now like agreb better than I did, though not Croats. Sebastien took me on a tour of the Stari Grad last night and cobblestones always make me feel better. There was a nice view, too. Some Catholic Croats were flagellating themselves with toothbrushes while their hairshirts were drying on a line in the stiff breeze. Picaresque. The Croats appear desperate to be Germans, except the Germans got there first. And the Austrians got there shortly after, followed by the Slovenes. So they're in for a wait. I could see why the main organizer of the conference, Ivan, had no hair. What for? What possible use could it fulfil except to be pulled out all over again? I must admit, however, that the organisation of the conference was superb. The idiot-string mittens on the tour of the city were a bit much, though. Belgrade, by contrast, is totally, 100% Balkan. Cars honk, people stream across red lights, people step Inside to smoke. People grin and glower and grimace and grunt. It's a living, breathing symphony of human interaction, the way a city should be. I love the place. Sadly, I'm only here for a night, so I had to restrain my shopping impulses. Still, I laid down a few hundred Euros, which I don't even calculate into Canuckistan dollars anymore because it's too depressing. I was feeling underdressed, a situation which afflicts many travellers to parts of Europe, I think. So it was either buy some duds or start ripping people's clothes on the street to mess them up a little. Tough choice, but I think I made the right one. And tomorrow...Nis. I'm directing my play Cyrano XXI at the State Theater there. How is anyone going to understand when, long after I have shuffled off this mortal coil (but not to Buffalo), some bored graduate student discovers that all my premieres seemed to be in languages I didn't speak, including my own plays? I dunno. I'm just a theatre artist. Don't ask me. I\ll be there for five weeks, which has all kinds of advantages: I know where the net cafe is; I can actually wear all my new clothes and choose which old ones I have to throw out (Blackie, my small bag, is my companion on this tour); I have dinner company in Nis; I'm getting paid; and I think I know how to work that telephone thingamy they have at the post office, if I can just find the crank. Nis is a pretty town, and working at the theatre will be a blast of unexpected and probably harrowingly fun events. Stay tuned, dear lifelines. More to come. |
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