A Different Lifetime: Stepping Back in Time in the Former Yugoslavia (7 page)

Outside my apartment with the row of
shops owned
 by Lenna’s cousin across the end of the street

River Tisa

The Channel

The man-made beach on the River Tisa

There are days when the
waters of the Tisa are completely still; the surface looks like a huge dark
blue-green mirror; not a ripple to be seen. Then there are days when there is a
strong wind blowing and the water is choppy. Sometime the current flows
downstream, and sometimes it flows upstream; I have decided that this is due to
the man-made channel diverting some of the volume of water away from the town,
and also to the fact that the river is dammed just to the south of the town. But
the behaviour of the river seems only to reflect the moods and whims of the
people of the town. Sometimes they are calm and rational, another day they are
complaining about who knows what.

At the school we have
again reached the time when payments have to be made, and as with the previous
month many of the students are in no rush to part with their money.

“We don’t understand,”

“It’s too hard for us.”

These are the same
complaints that filled the air exactly four weeks ago, or so Arkom tells me,
but who is saying this? Judging by comments that I would later hear from some
of the students it is more than likely that these accusations are being
manufactured by Arkom as yet another attempt to reduce my salary.

And so while we continue
to pander to these dubious whims, and some students are not paying for next
month’s tuition, Arkom is not paying my salary for the past four weeks. It is
true, however, to say that around seventy-five percent of the students have
paid their bills without one single problem (Arkom never thinks to hide the
books); and of the remaining twenty-five percent, many are just late to pay;
but it is also true to say that the remainder, those who are accused of
complaining and placing ridiculous demands on the content of their classes, are
the same few people who did so on the last payment date. But the trickle of
money that I am receiving at irregular intervals has long passed my pay date in
the second week of November. We are now in December and one week away from the
next pay date and I am beginning to suspect that Arkom may not be paying me
because of his own and the school’s financial difficulties. After all, I have
learned from Trevor, the doctor who had been my chauffeur from the airport,
that Arkom is indeed having major money problems.

When I do finally receive
my November salary, the news that accompanies it has quite a sting in its tail.
Arkom announces that again students are not happy receiving instruction in English
and that he wants to take over some of the adult students and teach a class in
their native language: Serbian; though how one learns one language from
speaking another is not entirely clear to me. He is emphasising that students
are leaving the school; however, only Lena has left, plus there is one other
student who never came at all. This student I have never met; she, in fact,
dropped out before I began teaching here, despite Arkom’s claims that she was
unhappy with having a teacher who wasn’t American. Turin and Verna – who don’t
pay for their classes anyway – have already by mutual consent moved into a
class of their own so they can take the class in Serbian and work at their own
pace. Lena’s exit from the school was for personal reasons, and there is just
one other student who is not always coming to class because she is often
working at that time. The crunch is, however, that I now know for sure that I
will not be needed to teach after the Christmas holidays. I never did receive a
contract of any kind that stated for sure how long I would be needed to work
here; the understanding was that I would cover for Lenna until she was able to
return to work, and Lenna is now ready to return.

I have for some time
pondered Lena’s comment about the “cheaters” and “wanting people for only three
months,” and therefore, this news does not come entirely unexpected. However, I
now have only two weeks to make other arrangements and vacate the apartment.
And although Arkom has since mentioned, somewhat guiltily, that I can stay in
the apartment till the end of January if I need to, I have begun to firmly
believe that money is the real problem. Too many of my students are sorry to
hear that I’m leaving, which of course is not consistent with Arkom’s constant
stipulation that the students are all complaining. There seems to be more truth
in the fact that my salary was quoted as being €300 a month, a figure that I
have never received: the departure of Lena after only three weeks, together
with the loss of Turin and Verna, whom I was never paid for anyway as they do
not pay any fees, resulted in a loss of one-fifth of my salary.

For the remaining students
I am told that many of them receive discounts on their fees – either for good
attendance or because of a family discount; these discounts I have learned are
deducted from my salary. Then there is the wrangling over whom I should be paid
for and whom I shouldn’t: this person didn't come to class on this particular
day and this person didn't like the class on some particular day, so I can't
pay you for these (this kind of thing). But perhaps it is better to lose a few
pennies here and there and be glad that I got as much as was possible out of
the situation.

On the other hand, Arkom
seems eager to give me a good reference; he drafts a possible outline for the
said reference, but as his English is not perfect, asks me to read it through
and make any corrections that are necessary. I am somewhat amazed that his wife
Lenna, as apparent owner of the school, whom I have not seen since the day I
arrived, is not compiling my reference; but Arkom says that he has mentioned it
to her several times and she does not want to do it: another strange twist in
the tale.

I have begun to look for
alternative employment, and Arkom is trying to direct me towards the
possibility of working in Belgrade or even in nearby Budapest, which I had
considered somewhere I might like to go, but my search for such a job proves to
be unfulfilled. I have applied for one possible position in Greece and have
received a favourable response. The school is located on one of the Greek
islands in a small city tucked away from the main tourist routes. Getting to
Greece, however, will not be an easy task. Arkom advises me to take the train,
but he is now of the opinion that I should go to Budapest.

“I can get you on a train
to Budapest,” he insists, “it will only cost fifty Dinera, and you will be able
to find a job when you get there.”

But although I have a
keenness to go I feel sceptical of his opinion that I will find a job there with
ease.

“And I can get you a job
in Russia, where Lenna worked,” he mentions several times. But there is no
definite job, and I am sceptical of going so far north in mid-winter.

“But if you really want to
go to Greece,” he adds, “you can catch a train from Belgrade to Athens that
goes by Macedonia.”

Now this is Arkom
displaying his other side, the side that I see when the conversation does not
centre on money – Arkom the good guy. This is Arkom my friend, the person who
invited me to his party, who went out of his way to help me make a phone call,
the person who I chatter and joke with in the breaks between classes, and the
person who goes out into the back yard every evening to smoke after imploring
me:

“Please don’t tell Lenna
that I smoke!”

I can’t help but believe
that the problems with money are not instigated by Arkom; I don’t know how many
owners the school has or exactly who they are, but I keep feeling that Arkom is
somehow a pawn in the organization who perhaps unwillingly is given the task of
passing on someone else’s orders.

Meanwhile back at my
apartment I have begun searching the Internet for a solution to my travel
problems. Yes, as Arkom has told me, there is a regular train service from
Belgrade to Athens: it is in fact part of a Balkan Express that originates in
Budapest. I could, in fact, catch a train from Novi Sad to Belgrade to connect
with the Athens train, and it is, as Arkom suggests, quite inexpensive. For
€150 there is a Balkan Explorer ticket available, which is valid for one week’s
unlimited travel in all countries between and including Hungary and Greece. Now
here’s the problem, when I try to purchase the ticket, I find that it cannot be
purchased for travel out of Serbia. Of course, because Serbia is not part of
the European Union, there is no easy way to leave the country, and foreign
travel is also severely restricted by the Serbian government at this time. When
I later advise Arkom of these findings, he feels sure that there is a way to
take the Athens train, but has no solution to obtaining a ticket. I’m sure,
however, he is right in thinking that buying a ticket to Budapest is simple: I
have learned from my student, Bella that there are concessions for travel from
Vojvodina to Hungary and Croatia.  She herself drives to visit family in
Croatia regularly, though she says that passing through immigration into
Croatia is becoming harder all the time. Likewise, I also know that Trevor’s
father regularly drives across the border to Hungary.

So my leaving Novaginja
will perhaps be no easy task. I have now begun to explore the possibilities of
flying to Greece and have discovered the Serbian state owned airline has a
flight to Athens three times a week. The fare, on the other hand, is
exorbitant. It will cost me €1,100 for a ticket to Athens, and then I will need
to purchase another ticket to get to Crete once I get there. For one thing,
this is more money than I will have earned during the whole of my time working
here. And when I try to book a ticket online, I am faced with a similar problem
to that of when trying to purchase a train ticket: tickets for flights from
Belgrade to Athens can only be booked from an address outside of Serbia, and in
the present incarnation of Yugoslavia, this would also mean outside of
Vojvodina.

Well, in the belief that
there must be some way to leave here, I began to search travel websites for
flights from Belgrade to London and London to Heraklion (Crete). Amazingly I
discover that the Serbian airline is currently offering a special fare of €100
from Belgrade to Heathrow, and when attempting to purchase such a ticket from
the Serbian airline website, I am permitted to do so as long as I am a British
national. I am able to enter my credit card number and secure a place on a
flight for the 29th December. Or so I thought! A few days later I received a
letter from the airline stating that I must appear at their offices in Belgrade
within four days to prove my eligibility to leave the country and pay for my
ticket. Apparently entering your credit card online in Serbia does not
constitute payment, it merely holds your booking until you appear in person to
make payment.

Yet another problem,
Belgrade could be reached by bus, but it is not a return journey that could be
completed in one day. Again Arkom comes to my assistance by allowing me to use
the school phone and acting as a translator with the booking agent at the
airline.

“She says they have also
an office in Novi Sad,” Arkom relates, “and you will be able to go by bus to
Novi Sad and be back in time for class. You will need to take your passport and
cash.”

Well, a few more obstacles
to overcome, but going to Novi Sad will be a solution to my travel problems and
it will also present an opportunity for me to see some of the countryside
outside of Novaginja.