it's so easy being green...

especially with my newfound freedom of having a monthly transportation pass instead of having to find a kiosk and buy tickets every time i need to hop on a bus! feels so good...thanks to one of the kindergarten teachers who graciously took care of the process for me today and brought back my official Beograd transit system ID beautifully laminated with a space to put in the monthly ticket. yay!

so, now it is definitely easier to 'be green', in the sense of not wasting the paper of those tickets i would otherwise continue to buy, and the fact that i am traveling by public transportation vs. adding another individual gas-guzzling vehicle to the traffic jams, which i felt so guilty about doing every time i went into Philadelphia last year with our community van; however, that is not why i chose the title (which, if you're wondering, does refer to Kermit the Frog's lament that "it's not easy being green"). Zelena is actually the first color-name i learned, and still the easiest one for me to call to mind, for reasons that will become clear in the rest of my story. :)

i used my amazing pass for the first time this afternoon on the tram from the kindergarten to my language teacher's apartment, and during our session it turned out that i started having many amazing "aha!" moments of things clicking in the language center of my brain, sticking in my memory, and actually making sense when they came out of my mouth. i could also sense a significant decline in the number of times i felt compelled to fill in blanks with Spanish, although she still had to correct me to say ili instead of o for 'or'. there was much laughing involved, and some surprised/delighted looks on my teacher's face when i started making up my own sentences beyond what was in the book or what she initially asked, and even making some intentionally funny statements, as well as her patience and cooperation when i was trying to convey some slightly complicated ideas in a very roundabout way with my limited vocabulary. bravo! super! odlično! she tells me.

so maybe this will sound lame, but i know this was exactly how i needed to spend this friday evening: i felt like walking, so i decided to retrace all the steps we took last time i was escorted to church, to make sure i know my way there and back and have a sense of direction even if i decide to go a little off track. first i came from my language teacher's house to Zeleni Venac, a GREEN-domed plaza that serves as a hub for many buses, including the ones that take me to and from Zemun. from there the self-test was on. onto a popular pedestrian avenue, with numerous cafes and street artists and sladoled/icecream vendors. stopped to watch a guy create a glossy poster with spray paint techniques that eventually looked like some kind of graphic design with planets and pyramids and stars. kept going, past one fountain, past another fountain, then saw a brightly graffiti-covered wall that looked familiar, turned there, gained confidence a few blocks later when i passed a certain shop i recognized that sells fantastic fish sandwiches, i hear. :) somehow my mind's eye and body memory took me through every turn, just like we had done when i was half-blindly following my fast-walking friends the other day. past a park, around a couple of quick corners, down a residential street where i had to watch my feet for dog droppings, and finally i caught sight of a little blue placard with the street name on the corner of one building: Ulica...yesss, it's the right one!! SLAVA, HALELUJA!!! i wanted to jump up and down and punch the air in triumph and pride in myself, for now i really had a feel of exactly how far around that route was, and also had a very clear map in my head of how to return to the green dome by a much quicker way, permaneciendo (making permanent?) my personal landmarks in my conscious visual-verbal memory rather than just my subconscious bodily-kinetic memory. as i passed the church and read the sign, i gave it just a brief extra gaze and wink of gratitude, and continued on up the street, past a theatre and a monument, back to the pedestrian boulevard, and successfully through a little maze of turns and stairs at the point i had marked in my brain as a shortcut back to Zeleni Venac. now i was really on the verge of having my head float away like a helium balloon and my chest explode like a volcano with all the smiley feelings building up in there...

of course i kept a straight face...i feel like i'm constantly struggling to do that here...u Americi, my default setting when i pass someone on the street is to look at them and smile and possibly say hello, if they acknowledge me, too. not here...everyone seems so serious and professional, or if they're showing more emotion then it's solely focused on their friend or lover. i respect that, it could be a healthy thing, to not spread your emotional energy thin with trying to acknowledge every stranger on the street just for the sake of friendliness. although i think that can bring a certain joy and energy with it, as the effort to extend friendliness starting with a facial expression of goodwill can potentially cultivate a healthy outlook on life. ali, nema problema, mogu da učim, i can learn to contain myself, hopefully.

i think the moment of today i am most grateful for, however, was right when i was at the height of my pride-swell, halfway down the stairs that go under Zeleni Venac towards my bus stop, i glanced to the side and saw a little girl, probably 2 or 3 years old, with skin several shades darker than most of those swooshing past me, lying asleep in the arms of her mother who is sitting crouched against the side wall of the stairs, also more tanned than the norm, with uncombed dark hair...must be Roma. Gypsy. the wind in my sails quickly died down into a pang of silent guilt/misery/sympathy. as i understand their position (someone correct me please if i'm wrong or overstating this), their reputation and the often harsh conditions laid for their survival in society, they seem to be the European equivalent of the Indian 'untouchables' caste, the Dalits. for this little girl and her mother, life is not easy. the green dome and passageways under Zeleni Venac may provide a bit of shelter from harsh weather, but they don't get an EZPass out of the harshness of poverty and possibly homelessness. of course there are Roma who have 'made it' into a comfortable life and even fame as folk singers or politicians or scholars. but this lady sure looks like she hasn't made it, and God only knows if her daughter will get any better options.

meanwhile i get to my bus stop and board the bus with a heavy heart, yet also with hope. i am grateful to be working for an institution that puts a high priority on accepting special-needs and at-risk children, including Roma children, into its unique peace-cultivating education program. it is good to be reminded of how against-the-grain that is here; since it is all i have seen so far, it is hard for me to imagine the state-run kindergartens and schools where apparently there is much less care shown for kids who are 'different', and where a 'words not weapons' approach to conflicts is not necessarily modeled or expected to develop in the children. i am grateful that i get to be part of showing a different option, the peace-making option. the blessed option, that malo po malo, little by little can bring into being a bit of the dream of the blessed, beloved community, right here in Beograd. every morning when i enter this special kindergarten, i can sense that it already has.

and as the bus crossed the bridge, i was treated to a view of a sky ripening with various shades of pink and purple and peach, like a loving artist was just watercolor-painting them there as we rolled along, each passenger contained in their own private world, no way to tell who was noticing the beauty and who was just enduring their everyday routine ride home. i kept my secret awe held inside, all the way home, anchored by that green dome, the deep dark Dunav, i moj Gospod.

on a walk with one of my friends in Zemun