It occurred to me as we tried to clear the stage area that maybe things would turn out okay after all. Nikola and Gabi went out onto the stage with the microphones, thanked everyone for coming, and launched into their mini-skit. I lurked around, taking pictures, and trying to keep the kids off the stage, and away from the stairs in back. None of the parents seemed to be interested in what their kids were doing, unless they were one of the preschoolers on stage being photographed. I grinned again thinking of a school play back home if kids rushed the stage and started hanging around behind the stage area. It was funny, because the parents and teachers wouldn�t have to yell and scream even if the kids for some reason did decide to do something like that. They would just tell them not to, and that would be the end of it.
The little preschoolers came onto the stage one by one, and strutted back and forth in their costumes. I photographed probably thirty of them with my digital camera, beaming. I was so proud at their costumes and the level of care and effort that so obviously had been put into them. I had no idea that it was going to be so organized, and so pleasant. I think a large part of my not understanding what is going to happen a lot of the time is due to the language barrier. A large crowd was gathered around, and I was pleased at the attendance. Everyone clapped as Nikola announced each costume: little soldiers, brides, witches, and many creative ideas. Some of the kids were bashful, but some marched right onto the stage oblivious of Gabi trying to help them along. A slight drizzle, more like a mist, began to fall.
It went on for quite some time, and then the poetry readings began. I sighed, thinking that we should have limited the length. All the kids spoke rapidly and loudly, in high-pitched voices as they practically ate the microphone. Like mini-dictators, they yelled into the microphone, and spoke so quickly I could barely pick out any words. One by one Nikola introduced them by name and grade, and they took the stage briskly without any nervousness. I winced at the loudness, as well as the attention of the crowd beginning to break down. People were talking amongst themselves, even our members up on the stage. The roar of many people talking at once was starting to stress me out again. Some of the kids were more brief in their thoughts, like the front page of a small sheet of paper. As some of the older kids came up, they got longer and longer. One was three or so pages, both sides. I strained to listen, but after a half hour or so the shouting and noise fostered the beginnings of a vicious headache and I ducked inside for a quick break. I smiled wearily to myself, thinking, when I suggested poetry readings, I was thinking of something quite a bit more peaceful. It�s always helpful too, of course, when you have an attentive and polite audience.
There was an abrupt change in the demeanor of the crowd when Vojche took the stage. People stopped talking, people listened. I didn�t understand the jokes, but I suspected they were funny, because everyone in the crowd wore delighted looks of anticipation on their faces. And when the punchlines were delivered, young and old people alike laughed. It lasted ten or fifteen minutes, and then the comedian relinquished the microphone to Nikola, who thanked everyone for coming, and invited everyone to take part of the Earth cakes that were set up behind us as our thanks for participation. I started to back up towards the door, thinking, oh no, he�s going to tell them to form a line, or to wait a minute while we bring the cakes down to the stage, but no. My worst fears were realized as the entire crowd rushed the steps to get some of the cake.
Nada holding her big knife began to cut the cake, frowning at the crush of people. Instantly I was pinned between pushy kids and the table were the cake was. Some of the frosting got on my garage bag dress, and getting angry, I ruthlessly shoved my way out of the crowd and escaped again upstairs to the empty office. I sat down at the table, and thought, my God, how am I ever going to make it in this society? Why would it be that Nikola would have announced for everyone to come up and have cake, without telling them a little more clearly how, to avoid this? And if he had, would they have listened, in order to facilitate the most pleasant and efficient proceedings?! I sat there for a while, my mind spinning with possibilities and the hopes that this day might have made a difference to some of these people who live in Pehcevo. Suddenly, the door opened, and Vojche came in.
We had a surprisingly nice talk, of which I understand nearly all of, about cultural differences and the need for order in society. I really appreciated the way he spoke slowly and clearly, without a lot of local dialect or slang. It was obvious that he had dealt a lot with foreigners, and certainly had been one in other places; it was obvious he knew how difficult it is to speak in a language you don�t know very well. He told me that he had experienced the way things work in other places in his worldwide travels. I told him a little bit about my frustrations and he smiled and told me that a lot of things here need to change. He told me that people need to not be so impulsive, and to be more patient, and to work within a structure. Relieved, I listened while he explained a little bit about the way that the society ran as a part of the former socialist Yugoslav republic. It was so interesting, and fifteen or twenty minutes passed before anyone else came into the room. Eventually, when I was promised that the crowd had cleared, I made my way downstairs for my piece of the cake.
I was disappointed that there was quite a bit of trash on the ground, but I suppose it could have been a lot worse. We took a group picture, and as we looked at how it turned out on the screen on my digital camera, two Roma boys who were hanging around begged me to take their pictures. I obliged them, and showed them their pictures on the screen. Astonished, their eyes huge, they started shouting in each other�s faces and it made me laugh. As I began to gather some of the trash up and take a bag to a nearby trash cannister, the younger boy pulled up on a bicycle and offered to take the trash to throw away. I asked him where and he responded, in the trash can. Smiling, I let him take the trash and watched him place it carefully in the can. He looked back at me for my approval, and I waved.
As I said goodbye to everyone, and began to walk home, I laughed to myself, exhausted. Success, I thought. I am not here to change the culture. I don�t even want to. I am here to help with transparency, environmental awareness-raising and event planning. If I can change raise the awareness of one child, if I can modify the behavior of anyone here in order to make this a better place, than that�s good enough for now. If people want to have chaos and if people want to let themselves be run around by the nose by children, then I suppose that�s their business. I think that culture being an implied way to act is something I must always keep in the forefront of my mind. When I find myself getting stressed, I need to just smile and remember, I am an American. I am not from here. And these people have no concept of where I am from and what I have seen. I am here to help the best way I can, and not to get upset about things that may not matter in the end. I will keep on trying. For now, I am going to go home to the peace and quiet of my flat. Happy Earth Day April 22nd!