bonjour, je suis contente de vous presenter les memebres de l'association AJDEE.

Hello, I am pleased to present you the members of our organisation AJDEE.

occupations printanieres

voila le printemps qui pointe son nez, et devant l'attente des elections parlementaires, devant le blocages des fonds de la municipalite qui va surement changer de bords suite a ces memes elections... ben faut bien s'occuper.

apres avoir ete addict a la meme drogue que les copains, le jonglage, mais a dose plus petite, apprentissage oblige, je me suis lancee dans un nouveau delire... les echasses.

quelques semaines de reflexion, et plusieurs litres de bieres, donc, avec un ami, Branislav, nous avons "reflechi" a la realisation de notre mieux The Master-piece, comme on dit en anglais.

plusieurs autres semaines de realisation (et litres de bieres, on se comprend), l'entourage commencait a ne plus y croire, lorsqu'a la question: "qu'est ce que vous faites" nous repondions d'un sourire "stula" (soit echasses, en serbe), les sourires moqueurs apparaissaient sur leurs levres (Mais bien sur... leurs levres nous disaient!)

le resultat est la:

1eres sensation, l'impression que l'on ne met des jambes artificielles. ce sont mes jambes, c'est moi.

je me revois a Samoens, il y a 10 ans, sur mes premieres echasses. j'avais ete fiere de les avoir faite moi-meme, et mes parents avaient ri, de me voir sortir du train au retour de ma colonie de vacances avec ces 2 bois de bois si precieux a mes yeux.

10 ans plus tard, j'ai toujours 10 ans (cela me rappelle une chanson...!)

est-ce que mes parents rigoleront encore une fois a mon retour, mon nouveau tresor a la main?

quand tout fout le camp

des fois, j'ai envie de me definir comme: Amelie, 21 ans, desastre (senti) mentale.


y a des jours, des semaines des fois, ou rien ne va plus.hier, drole de journee. le temps, entre pluie et soleil, et devenir taree, on ne peut rien prevoir. La veille, fiere de pendre pour la premiere fois mes fringues dehors, que ma maison ressemblait (un peu) moins a une cabane dans la foret, voila que partie pour le village, il se met a pleuvoir.La veille toujours, fiere de rouler mon velo pour la premiere fois, d'avoir passe la journee a courir (enfin rouler quoi) partout pour recuperer le materiel necessaire a l'elaboration de mes echasses, d'avoir changer mes chambres a air de velo... voila que partie chez grizly, je vois mon velo a plat, les chambres a air (ou le mec qui les a gonfler) a quelque chose de pas net.Pendant cette meme journee, mon amie, devant sa grand-mere gravement malade, me demande de l'accompagner a l'hopital pour 'rendre visite' a la grand-mere dans le coma. la veille au matin, j'etais donc tout sourire, il faisait beau.la veille au soir, avec foule de vetements a relaver, un velo a plat, l'appart plein d'humidite, la tele qui debloque, un telephone qui n'aurait pas du sonner, je m'endors, dans l'idee de tout 'fixer' le lendemain. le lendemain donc, hier, je me leve, il fait beau. Sourire au levre, je me leve plus tot, je fait la vaisselle, je pars en direction du bureau, en poussant mon velo. L'idee etait de traduire le mode d'emploi pour mes echasses, aller au magasin reparer mon velo, et bosser apres avec Baki sur ces echasses.au bureau, je demande a ma collegue, qui n'a rien a faire, de m'aider pour traduire ma traduction en serbe, elle m'envoie bouler... puis on m'apprend que je Dois aller avec eux au village, faire une presentation de YiA programme, EVS et toute la clique, et apres le village, direction la mairie, ou rebelotte, le meme discours. Moi, la tete completement ailleurs, je peste, rale... mais execute. Ah oui, je me rappelle, je bosse dans ce bureau (jai tendance a oublier).Apres 2 heures, au village, 2 heures a la mairie, le trajet... je rentre chez moi a 18h. Bien sur, devant ma porte, j'oublie que j'ai laisse mon sac et mes clefs au bureau. et bien sur il pleut, et bien sur jai pas de parapluie.18h, je marche sous la pluie, decide a rattraper cette journee mal commencer, jai traduis en anglais cette foutue traduction (tant pis pour le serbe), je passe au bureau cherche mon sac et mes clefs, je vais voir katarina boire un cafe, et masseoir, enfin!.Je recois un texto de mon amie. Sa grand-mere est morte dans la journee. 19h30, il pleut a flot,pas grave, je vais au karate, besoin de me defouler. je marche (et remarche), j'arrive au club de karate. Personne. Il y a eu des inondations, ou jai pas trop bien compris, bref, il y a de l'eau, et pas de karate avant lundi prochain. il pleut, toujours, mais je ne sens plus la pluie, je suis deja toute mouillee.je ris, cette journee a quelque chose de magique finalement, et semble ne pas vouloir se finir. je rentre chez moi, apres etre repasser boire un enieme cafe chez Katarina, a rire de ces situations etranges et de repasser a grizly, sans velo, mais les amis sont la... Y a des jours comme ca, ou faudrait peut-etre mieux rester dans son lit.Aujourdhui, il pleut toujours, mais j'ai un parapluie!

masken bal

un petit bout de ma vie ici:

hier, grand evenement dans la ville de Krusevac: le bal masque annuel. Unique en Serbie, c'est une nouveaute ici, les lyceens organisent depuis quelque annees un grand bal masque dans toute la ville. une rue est barree aux voitures, un podium est present, les eleves y montent a tour de roles, dansent, chantent, exhibent leur costumes... tout le monde se pretent au jeu, et la ville n'en devient que plus belle.

Des personnages deguisees a chaque coin de rues, entre 2 et 18 ans. c'est fou, c'est bon pour le moral.

On devait faire une repetition a l'ecole a 18h. J'arrive a l'ecole, Katarina me regarde de ses yeux rieurs "on dit aux enfants de revenir demain? on va au bal masque?"...

c'est genial ce jour de fete.

le soir, pilates, mes jambes souffrent. le bal masque a laisse place aux groupes de musiques qui se succedent sur la scene. des amis jouent. tout le monde est la.mixite des genres: Mladan danse avec un petit gypsy, moi et Dejan en mode "dansons dans nos habits sombres", Bojan reprenant secretement ses choregraphies d'Amy Winehouse et les Roms faisant des acrobaties, Krusevac est en fete...

un jour dans l'annee, il tombait au bon moment.

jour du printemps a pristina...

certaines fois, certains gens me demandent comment c'est dans les balkans... on entend: ohh mais cest la guerre au kosovo non??... alors jai voulu aller voir de moi-meme (bon, je savais deja que cetait pas la guerre)... et j'ai eu envie de vous montre ce que jai vu, a Pristina, la capitale de ce nouveau petit petit dans l'Europe: le Kosovo:

preparation au concours de science po

reponse de ma maman apres lui expliquer mes incertitude sur le fait de suivre assez l'acualite politique francaise:

Maman: c'est facile, il suffit de se rappeller que Sarko est con
Amelie: oui, et Carlos est mort.
Maman: ah, et Henri Slavador aussi, apres avoir pris sa retraite a 90 ans pour profiter de la vie, c'est con.
Amelie: oui, c'est triste
Maman: ah... et le Lion est mort ce soir...


....


je vais cartonner au concours! Trop cool maman!

reference internet pour pieces de theatre et autres activites avec des enfants apprenant le francais

http://www.20mars.francophonie.org/

http://pagesperso-orange.fr/coste.tmp/index.htm

http://cartables.net/ressources/Francais/Theatre/

Demonstration in Serbia

Today is a big day in Serbia. First demonstration to protest against the unilateral declaration of independance of Kosovo by the Albanian kosovars. The main demonstration of course takes place in Belgrade, where I just read from the internet news B92 that "Hundreds of thousands of Serbians gathered today in Belgrade for a Kosovo protest."

I was spending my day as usual in my quite town of Krusevac, where, with Bojan, we decided to 'look at' the demonstration (without participate). Around 5PM, we listened the first klaxons, and then we just had to follow the noise. Ok, Krusevac has only one main street so it was not so difficult to find the protestors. The demonstrators, maybe around 2000 people top, in majority they were high school pupils (because today was a day off for the schools to demonstrate), and few teachers.

Demonstration was peacefull and even quite calm. When I stand in a rubbish to take pictures and see how many people was there, I regognize few people: high school students, my neighbour, local democrates. Once, a guy came to me smiling, and told me in serbian: maybe i could say to people where you are from!... another time, I met Sheki, who told me smiling as well: You are our problem.

ok, it may look funny a french girl in the middle of all this demonstrators...

And to finish, people who start to understand serbian culture can guess where the demonstration ends: to the old church of course. There was a mess and highspeakers outside the church and then everyone calm down and listened the priest... I was a bit lost because I never know when I have to do this gestures with my hands and a bit scared by this music in the night with all those demonstrators. Anyway, we left soon, and I think the demonstration didnt continue a lot after we left.

Branislav

Branislav, dude from Krusevac. Just one sentence, who can define him:

Amelie:oh tomorrow morning I go to see Chantal, that means I have to wake up at 8:30, fuck.
Branislav:oh, this is bad... but, 8:30... in the morning or in the evening?...

Independance of Kosovo

Retour a belgrade, dans le bus de l'aeroport, 2eme jour de proclamation dindependance du kosovo, une camionnette blanche sur le bord de la route, notre bus dans les bouchons, spectateurs du spectacle: un pave sur la camionnette blanche, des robocops super-flics qui sortent en trombes, des hooligans qui essaient de senfuir a travers le parc (moi qui me dit: ils sont cons cest hollogans, quelle mauvaise strategie de senfuir dans... un parc!!), dautres voitures de flics arrivent en trombe, roulent en sens inverse sur la route, des flics-crs courent dans le parcs, des voitures roulent dans le parc, assez halluciant... le bus repart, au centre ville, dautres crs, jessaie de compter: 50 flics de chaque cote de la route, 2 par 2 devant l'arret de bus (peut-etre ils ont fini le servie et rentrent en bus, que je me dis!!), ils remontent la rue marchant comme des soldats bien eduques.le bus continue, dautre flics, jessaie de compter de nouveau, une 30aine de flics au milieu de la route, je comprend que tous ces flics entourent un lycee ou les lyceens, aux etages superieurs du batiments, sont par les fenetres, avec des sourires et de la surprises. un peu plus tard, quelques posters avec косово је србјиа...

Pour te rassurer maman, en effet certains nationalistes pourraient ne pas beaucoup m'aimer du fait de ma nationalite francaise et du fait que la France soit le 2eme pays a avoir reconnu le Kosovo comme indepedendant (apres l'Afghanistan), mais il n'empeche qu'hier en rentrant de Belgique mes potes etaient contents de me voir revenir et de partager tous ensemble un repas "a la francaise": camembert, vin rouge et pain...

Krusevac est calme, on en discute et mon entourage, mes potes serbes comme mon bureau espere juste que le calme sera bientot la.

ps: je tiens aussi a signaler que ce post ne relate pas de la "reelle realite" mais juste d'observations dont j'ai ete temoin: holligans et violence ne sont pas 2 mots objectif pour traduire la situation, car les protestataires violents ne sont qu'une faible minorite. En general et un peu partie en Serbie et dans les regions majoritairement serbe du Kosovo se passe dans le calme et la paix. Les etudiants de serbie organisent des manifestations pacifiques... juste cette remarque pour ne pas tomber donc cette critique facile et cette peur securitaire qui nous surpombe.

KOSOVSKA MITROVICA, GRAČANICA -- The Kosovska Mitrovica Serbs yesterday organized a peaceful protest in the northern part of the town. Les kosovars serbes de Mitrovica ont organise hier une manifestation pacifique dans le nord de la ville.

A bomb explodes in Belgrade

On the radio since more than one hour there are only sad songs... I was thinking of a post than Gerardo posted in his blog about sad music on radio and the death of people in Bosnia. So I ask my colleague why do there is sad music on the radio. He thinks, and told me, laughing, maybe it is the preparation of Saint Valentine Day...
10 minutes later, Eta told us there is a bomb which just explodes in Belgrade, In the commercial center Mercator...

I am thinking of Gerardo right now (http://sarajewhat.blogspot.com/). The region is so amazing. Mickeal Jackson is singing "What about us". I am going to read the news on internet before to take my bus.
I feel even more alive right now.

.....

here is what I found about this information:

BELGRADE -- An explosive device was thrown in the car park of the Mercator shopping center in New Belgrade this morning.
The scene at Mercator Belgrade (FoNet)There was also a bogus bomb threat at the Mercator Center in Čačak. At around 1050 Mercator received a tip-off that a bomb had been planted on its premises in Čačak. However, after the building had been evacuated and a police search, it turned out that the tip-off had been a hoax, B92 understands. The attack in Belgrade took place at 0530 this morning. One shop window on the ground floor was destroyed by the explosion. Police are at the scene and an investigation is under way. There were no injuries, though there has been material damage, Mercator’s media manager Sanja Šegrt said. Despite the explosion, the shopping center will work normally today. More details concerning the incident will be known once the police finish their investigation. Meanwhile, the Slovenian Foreign Ministry has reacted to the incidents. "We expect the Serbian authorities to investigate the matter and take the necessary measures against the culprits. The ministry expresses its concern at these events. We would like to remind all Slovenian nationals that they can seek help from their nearest Slovenian embassy at times like this. Slovenia and Serbia have a traditional friendship. We will endeavour to maintain it both within the government and in the EU," read a statement.

Good to be, and to feel alive.

Tonight I am going to Skopje. Waiting for the bus. Looking forward to be there. I am listening Shinead O'Conor, Nothing Compares to you.

I realize how good I feel. I like this feeling inside myself. I am looking at my pictures. I feel like this building. It's completely destroyed, but strong and beautiful at the same time.

Dedicace for people I love. Dedicace for my little sister, my little star, Gloria.

french language in Krusevac

As I may already said, I am the only volunteer in Krusevac so it's not often that I speak french and I am always a bit surprised when people speak to me in french.
This week, I met 2 women, who spoke to me in my native language. 2 different women, with 2 different stories.

The first woman is named Katarina. She is a blondy 30-year-old french teacher in the public school Yovan Popovic. She came to the office when she heard by one of her student that there was a french volunteer. She was a bit shy to speak because her french is limited. She explained to me she become teacher few years ago, and then get 2 kids so she didnt work for 3 years and this year came back to school to teach french. I am surprised to listen her speaking a bad french and to think she teach this bad french language to her pupils. My friend Bojan is even a better speaker than her. She explained it's difficult for her to speak because she has never been to France because of the Visa's trouble and it's rare to see foreign people coming in Serbia, and in Krusevac. I have to meet this girl again, I can maybe help her to speak and to be a better teacher (at least she could teach to pronounce properly usual things as number...).

The second woman is an anonymeous lady. Around 50 or 60 years old. Gypsy woman that I met on the fontana square, in Krusevac. She is quite small, and few teeth are still in her mouth (but I could say for how long more). She stared to speak in serbian. When I told her I didnt speak a good serbian, she answered in a perfect french: Vous parlez francais?
Of course I do. "Tu sais, moi je vis ici, j'ai pas de papier, j'ai pas d'argent et pas de maison. Ici sans papiers quand on est vieux c'est past facile".
"Mais ou as-tu appris a parler aussi bien le francais, tu es tres forte, ton francais est parfait".
"Tu sais, moi j'ai habitez 20 ans a Paris, toujours sans papiers et sans maison, alors un fois vieille je suis revenue pres de ma famille. Mais tu sais c'est pas facile ici."

...

The woman was so amazing. Sometimes I dont understand this world where we live. Inegality because of one official document. What a contrast between those women. Why this competent lady can not have a life as good as this first woman...

In the 8th grade classroom (first part)

After a meeting with my office, I decided to start to learn Serbian properly, and bet with Eta, my boss, that for her birthday, 3rd of march, I would speak Serbian. So now I learn all day long, and try to remember what I did learn the day before...not easy, but my motivation is strong.
Everyone decided to help me in the office, and it is the first time I see so much motivation from serbian people. I am happy to see such motivation from them.
Yesterday, Marina's husband, Vlada, invited me to go to his school when he was kid, Nada Popovitch, and to meet his serbian teacher. I imagined it will be one of his friend who is now serbian tacher, but not at all...

We arrive to the school. Great, I realize it is the first time since I am here that I go in a public school and I feel happy to see all those kids running and screaming around. Vlada asks to one teacher where is the Serbian teacher. We go to her class room, and knock the door...
We stand in this room, full of 14-years-old pupils, all so excited by our coming. Vlada speak to the teacher: she is french and wants to learn serbian. -Ok, you can sit. -She doesnt speak good serbian right now but she speaks english. -Ok, kids, who is speaking english ?? (All the kids stand up) -I AM I AM, SHE CAN SIT HERE, AND HERE, AND HERE...

ohh, I feel like a star, boys and girls look at me in a different way. I finally sit next to Natali, tall and girly teenager.- Of course I do speak english, she said to me.
All the 14-years-old boys are looking at me, and I remember when I was myself 14!.
Natali asks me how old I am. - 21. -ohh, I thaught you were 14 also and you were a new pupil! (I knew I look young, but, so young??).

The course goes on (the show must go on...), The pupils are not really aware. Maybe 5 on 25 pupils are listening the teacher. The other one speak to their neighbours, or try to speak to me, or try to catch attention of the other pupils by making jokes!.

The hours finally ends. The teacher comes to speak to me; I am a beautiful girl and my language is beautiful. She asks me if I want to stay... Well... All the pupils are around me and sing: Stay, Stay, oh Stay, Pleeeaaaase....

Ok, it's enough for today I answer. But I will come back. Tomorrow? OK for me.


Vidimo Se Sutra.

Result of the elections

Last night the result of the Election came: Boris Tadic is President of the Serbia for 4 years more.

I watched TV last night to know what was happening and Tadic won with a little bit a more votes for him. So, last night was an happy night with my local friends but not so happy. Even if Tadic won, noone is blind about the result of Nikolic: almost 48 purcent. So people was speeking about this result and were worry about it.

here is the comment from B92, which is for my opinion, the best website about Serbian news:

BELGRADE -- According to CeSID figures, Boris Tadić, DS, polled 50.5 percent to Tomislav Nikolić’s 47.9 percent

Tadić received 50.5 percent of the vote in yesterday’s second round of the presidential elections, the Center for Free Elections and Democracy (CeSID) estimates on the basis of a 100 percent treated sample.

Serb Radical Party (SRS) candidate Tomislav Nikolić polled 47.9 percent. According to CeSID, turnout was 67.6 percent or 4,540,000 voters.

Nikolić told a press conference that, while counting was not yet complete, it did appear that, according to data he had at his disposal, it was clear that the incumbent president had been re-elected, and that he congratulated him on his victory.

“I’m sorry that fear has prevailed, and that fear will continue to reign,“ he said.

The SRS candidate said that his party would remain the country’s biggest opposition to the government and the president, but that he would always support “those political structures that defend state interests and endeavour to preserve Kosovo within Serbia.“

Zoran Lučić from CeSID said that the prediction was not open to statistical error, and that it could be concluded that Tadić had triumphed. According to their forecast, the DS candidate had received 2.3 million votes to Nikolić’s 2.18 million.

According to the CeSID sample, in Belgrade Tadić polled 53.6 percent to Nikolić 44.5 percent. In Vojvodina, Tadić also won by 55.1 percent to Nikolić’s 43.6, while the SRS candidate had the edge in central Serbia, winning by 51.1 percent to 47.2 percent.

These results were similar to those of the DS’s headquarters, who gave the incumbent president a lead of 51.4 percent to 48.2 percent.

RIK: Tadić wins 50.57 to 47.71

The Republican Electoral Commission (RIK) said before midnight on Sunday that according to 98.8 percent of counted ballots, DS candidate Boris Tadić had won 50.57 percent of the vote, or 2,257,105 votes, and that SRS candidate Tomislav Nikolić had won 47.71 percent of the vote, or 2,129,403 votes.

These results apply to 98.8 percent of votes counted.

Three Kosovo municipalities had been counted – Kosovska Mitrovica, Zubin Potok and Vučitrn - where turnout was 16,445 voters, or 47.42 percent.

In these three municipalities, 12,144 voters (73.66 percent) voted for Nikolić, and 4170 (25.36 percent) for Tadić.

96.28 percent of votes had been counted in Belgrade, where turnout had been 66.55 percent. Tadić had polled 52.44 percent to Nikolić’s 45.65 percent.

89.93 percent of votes had been counted in Novi Sad, where turnout had been 69.22 percent. The DS candidate received 59.93 percent to Nikolić’s 43.44 percent.

In Kragujevac, with 92.73 percent of votes counted, turnout had been 72.73 percent. Nikolić polled 50.58 percent to Tadić’s 47.57 percent.

In Niš, with 97.67 percent of votes counted, turnout was calculated at 70.93 percent. The incumbent received 48.56 percent, to the challenger’s 49.53 percent.

In Čačak, with 98.08 percent of votes counted, turnout was calculated at 68.75 percent, with Tadić polling 52.95 percent to Nikolić’s 44.61 percent.

Joyeux Anninversaire Maman

A short post in french, for my mum and her birthday.

Chere maman,

un petit mot pour te souhaiter un joyeux anniversaire venant de Serbie. Mon cadeau ne peut etre que te dire que je t'aime et que je suis heureuse que tu sois ma maman car c'est en grande partie grace a toi, a papa, et a l'education que vous m'avez donne, la liberte que vous m'avez toujours laisse que je peux ecrire ce blog aujourdhui et parler de mes experience en Serbie.

Ici a Krusevac tout va pour le mieux, mes amis locaux sont tres present pour m'inclure dans cette societe et me procurent beaucoup de joie.

Je fais attention a moi (mais tu dois savoir que je suis responsable meme si souvent tete en l'air!), je mange bien et j'essaie de realiser aux mieux mes projets ici.

Je ne te remercirais surement jamais assez d'etre une maman aussi cool.

Je te souhaite d'heureuses et reposante vacances au soleil... pense a m'envoyer une petite carte!

un Enorme bisou rien que pour toi.

In my street

Often people asks me how it is to live in Serbia, and more precisely in the country side. Because, even if Kruševac has 65000 people who live there, people here always told me "Kruševac is boring because it is a small city".

How to describe it: there is a city center, with a pedestrian street full of pubs (ok, its not really goods pubs for most of them), a library (kind of old communist style, I have been only once even if I love libvraries usually, this one is a bit to scary for me), swimming pool... and even 2 cinemas (ok, only one is working, with one movie per week, in a kind of old amphitheater where noone goes but...).

And there are 3 part of nice habitation: Bagdalla number 1, 2 and 3. Bagdalla is a hill of Kruševac.

I am living in Bagdalla 1, the oldest part of Bagdalla. Nice and quiet part of the town, 10 minutes by foot to the citycenter (ok, it is a small city so everything is close to the city center!)

I love my street, and could spend hours walking there. When I come back from work (3PM), I can catch the sunset in the street and it give a beautiful colour on the houses.

In my street, big dogs are barking in the garden (I always scared!) and the little dogs, living on the street, follow you and try to fuck other little dogs.

In my street, there are cute houses, some of them are small and look to be atelier for carton stuff, an other one is amazing, looks to be the house of the boy in the movie "Charly and the Chocolate Factory" from Tim Burton...

In my street, little boys play football when it's sunny, and play with sledge when it's snowing, and, little girls fight with huge wood sticks (yeah, I saw it in my street!)...

In my street old people work on their garden, cut flowers, clean the snow, and speake to other old people.

People looks to be happy in my street, and it is maybe why I love it so much!

(PS: do you see the car on the right at the end of the street?... I am living there!)

Serbia Presidential Election

Since few weeks, in my new country (aka Serbia), election of the future president of Serbia is the main subject on TV. I try to understand what is happening, who is what, what are the mains ideas of each and made prognostics about the results. [last year, when I was living in Sweden, there also was election, and liberal party won... hopefully I don't bring bad luck this time in Serbia!]

There are (i am reading it on wikipedia!) 9 candidates, and to tell you the truth, I remembered, and focus my attention in only three of them.

Each candidate has a number, what i think is a bit funny, and so you can hear on the street militants telling you...I am the 3 and they are the 7!


Let's start:
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
the candidate number 1 is Tomislav Nikolić of SRS: Serbian Radical Party.
Slogan: With All Heart (Свим срцем)
His main idea is to keep Kosovo, to develop (or to keep working) the factories and manufactures.
He is, as you can guess, the radical candidate (very popular and powerful), He scared me a bit...
Last night, I was watching TV, and try to understand what politician was saying. Nikolić had an impressive meeting in the Arena of Belgrade few days ago, and I catch few recurrent word in his meeting: Kriminala- Kriminaliti-Albanaski-Srbski-Kosovo...
This meeting in the Arena, as already said, was so amazing. On the stage, many speakers, and also a group of workers, to symbolize the part. One guy on the stage, behind the speakers, with a black jacket, and a huge black eye. I didnt know what was his role in this meeting, maybe just to show how strong those men are. People was standing up and hold big blue flags. The public looked like a football team supporters, singing nationalist songs, applauding.
(As I already told you, I am watching TV without understanding what people is saying, but, as few you people know about me, one of my favorite hobby is to watch people and to analyze situations).

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
the candidate number 2 is Jugoslav Dobričanin of RS: The Reformist Party.
I don't know anything about him, and don't hear people screaming "number 2" on the street, so I don't think he is really powerful.
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The candidate number 3 is Boris Tadić of DS: the Democratic Party. Boris Tadić is the actual President. Popular and his face looks nice, so I like him! If you read the article about "my first Slava", you can make a correlation between Nebojsa Andić (the man who droves me to the airport) and the Democratic Party. He will probably be in final with Nikolić and hopefully will be reelected. His idea is mainly about Europa and integration oof Serbia in the EU.
His Slogan is: For a Strong and Stable Serbia (За јаку и стабилну Србију)

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The candidate number 4 is Velimir Ilić of NS:New Serbia.
I dont know anything about him, havent seen him so much on TV but he is anyway everywhere on the wall of my town for 2 days so that means there are millitants in Krusevac who support him. I know his slogan:Serbia rules! (Србија је закон!); Choose Serbia! (Изабери Србију!)

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The candidate number 5 is Ištvan Pastor of Magyar Koalíció. Not a important candidate for my region, he is in the Hungarian Coalition (so I can guess he is more important in Voivodine).
He has announced his support for Boris Tadić in the second round.

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The candidate number 6 is Marijan Rističević of NSS (thanks to wikipedia).
I have no idea about who is it and neither about what is this party... I let you have a look on internet for more information!

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The candidate number 7 is Čedomir "Čeda" Jovanović (Чедомир "Чеда" Јовановић)
From the Liberal Democratic Party (LDP). I heard a lot about him because my friend is for this guy. So, what to tell you, this guy is for the young people, for the EU, for the homosexuality... A kind of revolutioon for the country! He seems to represent the modernity and the future. If I understand everything, before, he was in the same party than Boris Tadić (the DS), but he left after some conflits with Boris Tadić.He is currently running under the slogan "Život je zakon!" (eng. "Life Rules" or "Life is the law") while emphasizing his determination to bring down every person inside or outside the Serbian government who oppose the idea of providing a better life for the people of Serbia. Once again, Jovanović has directly accused Miroslav Mišković, a Serbian tycoon, of being one of the most responsible persons for the underdevelopment of Serbia in the recent years

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The candidates number 8 is Milutin Mrkonjić of SPS: The socialist party of Serbia. I saw is pictures on the wall but I have no idea about his ideas!

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And finally, the last one is... a girl, yeah yeah! Serbian Strength Movement - Bogoljub Karić, has nominated Milanka Mara Karić (Миланка Мара Карић) after failed attempt to nominate her husband and party leader Bogoljub Karić, who is under arrest warrant.
Slogan: Family is the strength of Serbia (Породица је снага Србије.)

My first Slava.

Thursday 20.12.2007, Soon Christmas. I have to go back to France. Have to. Tension. I dont feel like to go back. I dont want, get crazy and anxious. The plane is on friday morning at 6AM. The last bus leaving Krusevac is at 7PM on thursday.
One thausend things to do on thursday. I hurry up, clean the house, pack my bag, go to meet my landlord and pay the last bills.
6PM, I should meet Bojan at the bus station. Misunderstanding, he is waiting for me in a cafe. Fuck. I get even more anxious, almost crying (god knows why I am getting so crazy sometimes!).
6:30, Bojan reachs me at the bus station. I love this dude. Great. Last hug, he has to go to work, I have to take my fucking bus.
7:00, buses are coming. I ask if the bus is going to Belgrade. Negative answer, it is going to Nis. I wait, and wait again.
7:30, a girl advices me to ask what is happening about the bus. No more buses to Belgrade. I just missed it 20 minutes ago. FUCK.

I start to smile and laugh. This situation was almost sure. I love myself sometimes. I have no idea how I will reach Belgrade, but decide first to go for a drink, to see some friends and to think of this trip later.
8:00, direction The Club. On the way, ohh, I meet my serbian family. I explain my situation, laughing. They dont. "how will you do? But Amelie, How will you do??", Why do they ask me , I dont know, and dont really care at the moment. I know I will do it, I just dont know how...
A friend of them is present as well. He told me he got some politician friends who maybe go back to Belgrade tonight (I start to smile!). We wait, check to possibilities on internet, there are definitively no more train and bus to Belgrade... The telephone rings. Nebojsa smiles, the friend goes to Belgrade tonight. I sing in my mind: I AM SO LUCKY LUCKY, I AM SO LUCKY LUCKY...
We go to the local of the democratic party (Wahoo) and wait until the end of the meeting. People comes. One guy told me to not be worry (i am far from this feeling). We have time.
9:30, we go. The car is clean, the guy is nice. I will learn after that he is an important politician guy in the democratic party. We speake about politic and media. We have to pick up one of his friend, a lady working in the ministery of Agriculture. She looks like a rich durty bitch, full of make up and smelling parfum, but she is really nice (she try to fuck him, it is obvious). We go to her family, they are celebrating the slava. Great, my fist slava (here we are!). There is no electricity in all the town (this is the balkan jungle), so the party is in a kind of strange erotic atmospher with all those candles. We eat a bit with the family. Time to go, we listen croatian music in the car. We take our time until Belgrade, stop once on the motorway to have a coffee and smoke a cigarette. Nebojsa (the politician man) drives me until the airport (they are like a mum and dad with me, so nice and cute). We say goodbye, and they go...


Later, I will take my plane, and stop first to Milan, before to flight again to Luxembourg. Arrived to Milan, I will realize how much I love Europa and all those different people who are living here. Great melting pot. I am not angry anymore to be back.

She was 3 years old.

She was 3 years old, no more. On the street, sitting on the floor on her knees, with red big cheeks. Clothes torn, durty from the head to the feet. A little Roma girl as there are everywhere in the Balkan. Some other kids was all sitting together on the street, speaking to each other, the biggest one carried on the smallest one.

The little roma girl was alone. Alone with her little box in carton: her instrument to work, her box to beg. The box was empty and her eyes were sad. Wind comes, the box fly away, the little girl looks terrified, stand up to reach the box. I catched it. I give it back to her. Fuck, what is this world. I hate myself, to not be abble to do anything for her. I would like to save her, I would like to cry. I give her back the box, her job, look at her eyes, fondle her big red cheek, and leave.

She is probably still in the same street today, even more durty. She is only 3 years old, a little kid, who will probably never go at school, who will probably never do nothing else that to wait for some coins sitting on the street.

How is it acceptable?

Why does she need to have this life?

Trip in Bosnia and Herzegovina

After the new year 2008 spent in Dubrovnik, Croatia, with Charlene and her friends, we took the first bus to Mostar. My first step in my trip.
I dont know anything about Bosnia, the history, the last war. I have to learn everything.
Mostar is a city divided in 2 parts: the croatian part and the muslim part. The river (Neravna), is the official separation between the 2 parts, but the real separation, the no man's land, is one street up to the river. How didn't I know this part of the History of the Blakn. The war. You can feel the last war all around you. Buildings still destroyed. City divided into two parts.
We walk into the town, we visit the old town, the Most, which has been destroyed in 1993 during the war. A real symbol of Mostar and of all Bosnia.
Charlene explains me the town. On the top of the muslim part, the orthodox chuch, ruined. One of the rare serbian monument I saw here.
We stop in pubs. Depending in which part of the town you are, you would have different beers, muslims (from Sarajevo), or croatian one.
I realize the complexity of this region, the Balkan, I understand the jungle.
It's already time to go.

Sarajevo, by train from Mostar. I keep in my mind the old woman in front of us, so smiley, who looks so peaceful. The train (rare in the region) is quiet and comfortable. We arrive (I and the 2 belgian friends of Chica and P-Matjin) in Sarajevo 2 hours after. Direction the old town. We find a crappy hostel. Enough for one night. We go to eat in a small restaurant. I discover the old town by night. Loads of mosques (surprising for a unintellectual girl living in Serbia!), even more than in Mostar. The style of the city is completely different of what I saw since now in the balkan (croatian cost, and Serbia).

The belgian Dudes leave at 5AM, Irene comes at 6AM. We visit the town. It's cold and our foot are frozen. But we manage it by going regularly in coffee, and visiting museum. How to describe the town. Muslim style. Very traditional, the old city is like a village, small street and mosques in almost every corners. People are so friendly (they seem to love italian people!!), walk slowly (Polako!!), and old people seems to all know each other.
Sarajevo is also the town of the traditional jewellery, and I have to follow Irene, who loves shopping, in all the shops of the town!.
Next night, a friend of Irene find for us a great hostel (http://www.hcc.ba/), where we spend nice time, get a bit of warm. We have been visiting the Tunnel which has been build during the last war, under the airport controlled by the UN Force, to have a link between Sarajevo and the part of the country that was free. Interesting visit, again i;portant to understand and to learn about the war.
Then, after to had a lift by a young bosnian guy to a bus station where we wait a littel while to get the bus to reach the city center of Sarajevo, after few drinks, a nice meals and a cute nice spend in our small hostel, it was already time to leave again, direction Sretvenica.

Srebrenica: When people speak about Srebrenica, they slow down their voice. Srebrenica, the town where an horrible genocide has been done by the Serb in 1995. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Srebrenica_massacre). The town has seen killed 8000 muslims people, majoritary boys and mens. For a short story, during the war in Bosnia (1992–1995), the Srebrenica region saw heavy fighting. Hundreds of victims fell in the first years of the war, also among the civilian population. The town at the centre of the municipality became a Bosnian Muslim/Bosniak enclave surrounded by Serbs. In April 1993, the United Nations declared Srebrenica a UN safe area, guarded by a small unit operating under the mandate of United Nations Protection Force (UNPROFOR). Nevertheless, the town was captured by the Army of Republika Srpska in July 1995. Approximately eight thousand Bosniaks were massacred by Serbian forces in the aftermath.

People we met during our trip were surprised that we have been There by bus. Noone seems to go There, and actually, after reflexion, we realized we were the only one in the bus. People who have been to this town told us the town was sad, and you could feel the pain and the sadness of the genocide. It's true. we have been to the Memorial, where thausend of boys and mens are there. Their names are listed in a long, too long, pier, all around the Memorial.
Then, we met those muslims women. How to explain. My hands are still shaking remembering them. The wife and mother of some of those mens and boys. They made a presentation of the genocide, of the Memorial, of their family, their history... They were amazing, strangely full of life. They were sad, but not angry. they dont hate the serbs, not all of them are criminals, that is what they are thinking...

We go with them to the Memorial room, keep by policemen. A huge room, cold. There you feel the death. The Muslims Women explain us it was the room where people were stock and killed. We can see the hole by the guns in the wall. It's almost impossible to not cry. The Women hold our hands, stay close to us. Drops are falling in their smiley faces.
There is in this room a little room, a black room, with pictures of boys and mens who are in the cimetary. One of the woman "presents" us her son... With each picture, there is the story of the person, and also one of the object we find on the dead body. Her son was carry his school homework. We can see his grade: 5, the best grade you can have in Bosnia. He was 11 years old, and he was a good pupil...

Tuzla:We leave Srebrenica late in the afternoon. We arrive in Tuzla around 7PM. It's already dark, and still very cold. We are both quiete, full of this strange feeling inside us, thinking of those muslims women... We need to rest a bit. A friend of Irene is waiting for us at the bus station, she found us a little pension, cheap and clean. Exactly what we need. We take a shower, warm, lie down a bit. At 9PM, we go for a drink with Irene's friend. We need to clear our mind. We visit Tuzla by night. I was waiting to see an industrial city, but the city center is a such cute place. At one point, we stop: M. explain us that on this place, 70 young people, on the Day of the Young, Mai 25th 1995, by the Serb Artillery. M. was 11 years old at this time, and still remember the pieces of bodies on the floor. Then we go in a nice pub, underground. Very vloudy. People looked really nice, lesbians in peace and alternative's people all around. I smile, but I dont forget those 70 young people... The pub is full of people, much more 70 people there. Just one second, I imagine the scene, all those smiley and happy people lying on the floor... I get scared. Too much for today, I need to sleep.

Travnik: The morning after, we wake up at 7, should take the bus at 8. At the station, the girl told us there is no sit anymore for this bus. Disappointment. Next bus: 11AM. OK, it's not so long. Morning oblige, we are, Irene and I, the only one to walk in a huge puddle of water on the floor. Maybe 10 centimeters deep. Our foot are more than wet. I'm sad thinking that I wore this morning 3 peers of socks (it is REALLY cold!)... that means 6 socks to dry before 11AM. We go to the first pub, my socks go fast on the heater, we wait, and wait again. I'm not in a good mood to speak. I don't think it's a problem for Irene, she is quiet also (even if she is keeping trying to make me smile... good dude!). We finally take our bus. Short time after, Irene really need to pee. This make me laugh inside myself, poor little girl she is and bitchy girl am I. We stop 4 hours after in Zenica, Irene runs to the toilet... dirty one, but what ever. We arrive in Travnik at 3pm. We find a flat to spend the night in, again we have been lucky to get in!, We go to visit Travnik, it's already almost dark. We are in a better mood compare to the morning, we walk a lot in the town, but strangely, we are always in the same street, Bosanka. We visit the multicolor Mosque (what?? where are the colors...ahhm it is a old Mosque... thanks Irene)

Mostar: the trip finishes where it started. La boucle sera bouclee.We take the first bu to Mostar from Travnik. at 7. difficult to wake up.We think one second to stay in bed and go later to Mostar, but motivation is our leitmotiv since now, and it's not time to loose the challenge. We arrive at 11 in front of the 5 stars hotel that i know because Chica is living 5 minutes to it. We make a surprise to Chica... and she was... still sleeping. Sick since my departure, poor little girl!

We give to her a bit of our energy, and go in town few hours later. It shiny and our foot feel much better now. Chica presents the town to Irene, who looks passionated. We go in the old town, on the muslim part, and then go inside the hall of a mosque. We meet one commercant who seems to be also a guide for the tourist who want to visit the mosque. By speaking a bit german, a bit bosniak, a bit italian, he purposes us to visit the mosque. He opens the door, We keep our shoes (I dont understand why), the guy shows us the minaret, et tell us we are free to go up. And then he leaves us.

It is the first time for all of us to be in a mosque. It is colorfull and cold. The door to go to the mosque is really small (as tall as Irene actually!). The stairs are very small. Big enough for one person, no more. We start to go up. We dont see the end, and we already dont see anymore the beginning of the ascenption. After 89 steps (I count on the way back!), we arrive on the top. It's amazing, beautiful, so high. Chica is almost crying because of all the emotion we feel. We imagine ourself being a imam and singing. We look at the big highspeakers and my only thaugh is to not be here at the time of the prayer because those highspeakers could kill our ears...

We stay a bit, laughing and happy. We look down and see all Mostar. The Most seems to be very small (or we seem to be wery tall!)

Amazing and magic moment that we share all together...

This is Bosnia and Hezegovina, This is the jungle, a hard but wonderfull jungle.

Welcome

I always thaught i would never create this kind of blog... but we should never say never.
Blog to express feelings, blog to save in the mind the travels, the meetings...
Travelling, why do I travel? my mum and dad used to ask me this question a lot. It was difficult to explain them, the feeling you get, the interest on meeting new people, new culture. Travelling to understand. Travelling to discover new region. Travelling to escape. Travelling to feel free
. Travelling to feel good. Travelling to share. Travelling to be happy.

This blog is created to express all this feelings, to try to share those experiencs with people who cant live this experience.
This blog is to keep in my mind all those people who were on my way, those feelings, those discussions, those smiles, and more...