check it

so i had some inspiration today about being really intentional with what i do with the experiences i have. so to the right, i made a place for drugi blogovi... other blogs. i have added one that is for nebat's story. and there will soon be a few others.
i am hoping to update them at least weekly with photos and stories. it won't be the blabber that is usually found here. or pictures of pizzas on pots...
my hope for those blogs are to be journal-documentaries of sorts for more specific experiences.
anyway, i think you get the idea.

so speaking of experiences. this is a true story.
i walked out of my apartment today with the intention of going to the bus stop on the corner, catching a bus, and going to 'light cafe' to study and organize my language notes. as i get to the sidewalk i am swept up in a crowd of people. i fall in right behind the flag bearers and priests... not too far behind the drum and zurla players. since the street was blocked off for the parade, it would be silly to wait at the bus stop so i just kept walking with them. when we get to the bridge the group starts filing down the banks to the river's edge and gathering around the railings of the overpass. so i stop too. the priest and his little buddies start chanting and flinging "holy" water on the people near them. i was just out of range. then after several more ceremonial seconds the priest chunks the cross he was carrying over the bridge and into the river. all the young men on the banks of the rushing icy waters plunge in scrambling to find the cross. as soon as one claims it, the people errupt in clapping and cheering. then he is escorted to the ambulance to get dry and warm. while he is doing that, the priest and his possy cross the road to the other side of the bridge, right where i was standing. simultaneously the masses begin pressing in towards the epicenter of activity, at which i happen to be. but i was pinned. the priest and company were to my front and left, an ever inching old man (backed by at least 175 more people) to my right and the railing that is keeping me from falling into the shallow, cold and swiftly moving water is at my back. so there is stood. the entire time i was thinking 'i wish i had my camera i wish i had my camera i wish i had my camera' then the lad that captured the coveted cross came to where we stood. pushing through shoulders and holding the cross up as the ones he passed reached to touch it as it went by. when he arrived before the robe and gold clad party he kissed the cross and returned it and then received four large boxes wrapped nicely. as tradition goes, he will have good luck all year. then everyone starts passing out dixie cups of rakia as they make their way to whatever the next destination could be. but not before there is a clamoring to get their fanta bottles and coke bottles filled with the holy water left in the jug from the ceremony. as soon as there was a gap big enough, i squeezed through bellies and fur coats.
then i walked to the kafich (coffee shop).

today was saint john the baptist day. i think.