August 1989
a year before their break up
a year after my own
the black and white glyphs wound round our persons
from the clickstamp runways of marriages gone sour
over and over take their tole
squeeze and inhale
the clouds on their way;
walls were crumbling every.

A hot dry summer
wind swept from the sea in welcoming gusts.
I followed it
along the rails of its people
living in continum with their daily hum;

Traveling alone through Yugoslavia in a language unfamiliar
was uplifting in a way I can only see now
leafing the pages of my journal
a world within a world
of click columns and covered walkways;

We are of the same guild
the same freize and cloister;
they went about their grits, what needed doing -
It was their holiday too!

The people I met
on the buses, trains, and ferries,
the food we ate and the songs we sang
the beer, wine and double espresso
cobbled windows winding looping
the cafes I drank, the grungy streets
the chessboards belts and leather purses
the cost of things along the margin
I couldn't afford
to lose;
The bread salami zigzagging laundry
alleys isles and stand up bars
the fat man needing liposuction
buzzing from 8-10 in the morning
the burning heat the food siestas
the beautiful women disappearing
the parmesan feta spinach icecream
children running naked in the streets!
the tawny dustbowl of green leaves sleeping
safe in my bubble the novel I was reading
the phyloo stuffed with pens exploding
blaklava beer the honey balcony
Agatha Christie topless sunbathing!
on edge to get things
rolling;
The Greeks and Yugoslavians
the strange Englishman
the feasts in the cabin fit for a king!
the deck filled with deckies the sleeping bags
the rum and cokes the 3 German elecricians
the french service with white table linens
the off duty military wanting to marry a Canadian
the pea soup spaghetti fries beans cheese and cheeries
the 2 nights on the train the girl from Holland
who spoke english and towered over me!
the non-sleeping nights of sign language
the deck party docking at 6am
the clean sheets and showers and dashing breezeways
the seat reservations, the flip up seats!
I couldn't have survived
without them;
The passport panic the bootclick checkpoints
the steap single room rates on the islands
hiking brokeback to the mainland
the funny money and hyperinflation
how bad I'll smell when I get to Athens
the night on the ferry from Split to Dubrovik
the city I have been the city makebelieve
and although it sounds selfish reading my journal
not once did I mention
my X-husband.

01/29/2013

Author's Note: August 1989 I backpacked 5 days through what was then the Scoialist Federal Republic of
Yugoslavia, on route to Greece. This was a year before the Yugoslav Wars, and a year
after separating from my husband. Shortly thereafter I moved from Ottawa Canada to NYC USA.
Sadly I didn't have time to go to Dubrovnik (aka "heaven on earth"; the city makebelieve);
it's on my bucket list.

At the time of my travels I was ignorant of their political, ethnic and economic troubles.
By 1990 22% of the workforce was unemployed, and an additional 20% were not being paid to avoid
bankruptcy. The atmosphere was "of despair and hopelessness."

Following and as a result of the breakup of Yugoslavia, the War in Bosnia began in 1992 over
territorial and ethnic conflicts. There was "bitter fighting, shelling of cities and towns,
ethnic cleansing and systematic rape." It is considered the most devastating war in Europe since WWII.

Posted on 01/30/2013
Copyright © 2024 Elizabeth Shaw