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HELLO GODOT

Considering that the elephant pregnancy lasts for twenty months, whereas Jews are still waiting for the Messiah, whereas the Inter managed to win back even after the fall of the Berlin wall, whereas heinstein considered the space but also time as related phenomena, I would say that one month and three days is a reasonable expectation for the first issue of Corriere della Serbia.

A month passed since it is abundant, in an October morning, I left the train station in Belgrade with weapons and luggage, ready to face Serbia and its pitfalls.

Belgrade. Conveniently situated on the soft hills, right on the confluence of the Sava and Danube, the city is lined with modern buildings and ancient buildings, slums and skyscrapers of different styles, and a number of churches and chapels - most notably of course the cathedral St. Sava - make the city pretty much. The bridges that connect it with the modern Novi Beograd make it really beautiful night scenery.

In a month I found plenty of staying only one thing: the factor "B". Every day you spend in Belgrade, every morning when you start your day, not just open your eyes, you already know that something will not work, but you never know in advance what it is. Generally is the trams that you wait for hours or just does not pass, but woe to overlook everything else: Belgrade is a city full of pitfalls around every corner, behind every seemingly insignificant detail. The rain (good luck if you need an umbrella and you're away from the center), the closing time of an office, the lack of an Anglophone when you need it, an absurd procedure explained in detail and with novice particularly rigorous in Serbian, six hours for a washing machine, hot water that, in a dull afternoon, surprisingly decided not to come out of your shower. Generally, it is always the thing to which I would never think, especially at that precise moment. The

Belgrade, for their part, are committed to fund solutions to adversity the background and do their all to help the stranger in distress sometimes stop passers-by asking for information on behalf of the wretched strangers, sometimes suggest perverse strategies to by-pass the problems, in other cases automatically resolve the problems "the Serb" for them, "the Bersagliera" for us.

But the foreigner was in constant trouble. The real problem seems to be one: the information is never reliable. Never. Not even when you suggest drivers and controllers of public transport stops. Not even in relation to their lines. Even employees of the tourist information point where they show a particular office. "Do you have an umbrella?" Answer: "No, it's a supermarket here." All geezer, but true. Nevertheless, we are never rude, always smiling and in a spontaneous, genuine, sincere. They are open to dialogue and available, how rarely I happened to find above: never go in a hurry, take everything lightly and very slowly.

To hear them, they are always busy and busy, even if it is really hard to understand what they do. Indeed, watching them, too often seem authentic rimbecilliti. Face boiled fish, grit from plant fat, reflected by AIS: the Belgrade average answer any question with a semi-bellow made with his mouth open and his tongue a little 'out, midway between the "o" and " and "and" a ". Serbs still do not speak so well to understand what it means. Everyone tells me that the city lives at night and that "if you have not seen the night life here, you've never seen Belgrade. " And I hope, especially for them, observing the day: I hope that at least at night is actually fun. You fill your mouth with these "Call me if you need help," or "I'll call you next week so we organize," but too often do not anticipate the answer to your call (in the first case) or not ringing your phone (in the second ).

Normally a self-respecting newspaper begins with an editorial which explains the reasons which led to found a new head and the objectives it is intended. Il Corriere della Serbia instead begins at random. And late, too. So here is the premise to a page of rants: I got a scholarship by the Serbian government for post-Graduated researcher at the Faculty of Political Science at the University of Belgrade. I will address the social value of sport, with the support of ISCA - International Sport and Culture Association (the NGO for which I worked in Denmark).

The second question, less trivial, because it concerns only now, if you see me not in Milan for a while '. Well they are in Belgrade from October 13, but the first few weeks of work, documents, trams do not go (plus a forced return to Italy for a home-work interview) were used to welcome me in the second largest city in the Balkans. Here is a card to do everything, but if the Danish system makes you wait forever to get the yellow card, passe par tout scientifically multifunctional system Serbian makes you sweat seven shirts for a number unlikely admirer of individual tiles monofunctional doubtful efficiency . If the first week she went to collect the cards, the second match for the book fair, where I got to work and also to meet with Tadic, wandering through the stands. If the third scored my first contact with the university, the fourth was a forced return to Italy for an interesting interview. Everything was seasoned by the terrible Balkan logistics above, so that the fifth gone for the preparation of the first issue. Followed by the second in less than five weeks promised.

word of Serbian.