I’ve been traveling and working from Serbia the past week. Unlike other places I go, I have the unique and wonderful experience of putting put up by relatives here. It’s a long story I’ve touched on before and need to write properly.
Serbia has brought me many memorable and quotable moments. It’s also brought me something like 50,000 calories in seven days, I think.
I’m fairly sure hospitality in the Balkans is a quantifiable thing measured in red meat, rakija, caloric intake and creative swearing. Also perhaps overly warm and protective gestures. After putting slice after slice of toast on my plate (6? 7? 8?), each loaded with sir and kulen, refilling my yogurt drink three times they needed to make sure that I, a 33 year-old man, was able to get on the bus and make my way back safely into downtown Belgrade and back.
I’m fairly sure the 10,000 calorie breakfast made it more difficult than it might of been. But it also made it more memorable. Full of a warmth born of overly abundant caring and concern.