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Does someone want to take a stab at how Miladin "Minja" Kovacevic was able to produce $100,000 cash bail? And since he managed to post cash bail, probation officers said he could not be electrically monitored, despite the request of the prosecution. He was considered a high flight risk, all along, which is why the DA set such a "high" bail. Oh, how right they were.
Minja had been locked up since his arrest on May 4th, on a count of second-degree assault charges. According to District Attorney, Gerald F. Mollen, Minja even surrendered his passport after he was released and was given strict orders to stay in Broome County.
To get to the good part, after posting bail, Minja fled the country back to Serbia. There is currently a federal warrant out for his arrest. The FBI will be looking for him overseas. It's unclear how the whole passport situation ties in, whether or not the one he surrendered was real or a just copy.
While Minja is off running from the law, the victim, Bryan Steinhauer, 22, still remains unresponsive with severe head injuries, in a Long Island hospital.
Maybe it's paranoia, but is anyone else terrified that Minja will read these posts. You guys definitely weren't forgiving in your comments, and his friends didn't seem too thrilled about the posts in general. If anyone can translate, what seems to be angry Serbian comments, that might help a lot. Just a thought...
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-Proud to be Serbian- Posted 06/20/2008 09:13 AMReply
there is an old saying about serbs "srbe na vrbe" meaning "srbs on polls". his ass should be placed ona pole till last braeth... Posted 06/20/2008 09:19 AMReply
-Proud to be Serbian- Posted 06/21/2008 02:01 AMReply
This has nothing to do with being Serbian. But if you are proud of being related to someone who beat the life out of someone, then maybe you should follow his lead and flee the country, too. Man, I'm really disgusted reading your posts. Posted 06/21/2008 4:47 PMReply
We love you Minja! Posted 06/22/2008 09:54 AMReply
It's like loving the Zodiac Killer...why? Posted 06/22/2008 5:35 PMReply
By the way, I am in Serbia...
-Proud to be Serbian- Posted 06/23/2008 08:43 AMReply
minja seriously injured someone and anyone who is backing him up should be ashamed because they are supporting VIOLENCE!it does not matter what was said that night Minja had NO right to beat someone in such an extreme way. However, people should not be making fun of minja, his family or the Serbian people because face it, it isn't going to help. i am Serbian and i think minja should rot in ****ing jail for a long time Posted 06/23/2008 8:47 PMReply
I agree with you! But, many things there in US are wrong... It's like that here also, and who we are to change the world... Do you know that your country bombarded us ten years ago? Posted 06/24/2008 09:48 AMReply
-Proud to be Serbian-
:) Posted 06/24/2008 09:50 AMReply
I guess you are... but try - internet.... use it...
-Proud to be Serbian- Posted 06/25/2008 08:03 AMReply
you seem pretty bitter man. did a serb take advantage of you, and make ur **** bigger than ur mouth :) Posted 06/25/2008 4:48 PMReply
CCCC Posted 06/25/2008 4:52 PMReply
hey look, minjas in the paper Posted 06/25/2008 7:22 PMReply
-Pruod to be Serbian- Posted 06/26/2008 09:50 AMReply
Hey, he didn't just punch the guy a couple of times in the head. He practically commited murder. It's one thing to stand up for a girl, and beat someone up, and another to keep pounding him when he has had enough.
This is typical serbian mentality, and the reason why the USA bombed the country. Posted 06/26/2008 09:53 AMReply
I know that the serbians will look at Minja as a hero like they do with all their criminals. hence serbian mentality. Posted 06/26/2008 11:28 AMReply
Oh well, Serbia is still hidiing the biggest criminal of mankind, since Hitler, Radovan Karadzic and Ratko Mladic, to hide another one is not a big issue for Serbia. Minja is just another criminal protected by Serbia's Goverment and Serbia's people.
One onlyhave to read the responses from Serbians here either in English or in their native lang.
One poster mentioned how USA bombarded Serbia etc, I would like to ask him, why did USA and Nato bombed Serbia? If it wasn't for Nato bombs, today all non Serbs in former Yugoslavia would've been dead. Thanks to Nato's bombs those non Serbs are alive. You Serbs have no guts, no morals for another human being, you have no mercy towards babies, no mercy towards pregnant women which you slaughtered many pregnant women after raping them and finally hitting with knives on their pregnant stomach, killing the unborn babies and their mother. You had no mercy raping 13 years old girls and then letting her go on the lake, knowing that she will kill herself after that ordeal.
While I feel sorry for that student who is in coma and I wish him speedy recovery, I hope, now, all Americans and others will wake up and learn what Serbs are like and why American forces had to bomb Serbia, because bombs were the only means to stop them to kill more innocent and unarmed people.
Now you know what we non Serbs in former Yugoslavia went through during the wars which Serbia started. Posted 06/26/2008 1:49 PMReply
True 100 years ago, true today.
-- slinkybender Posted 06/27/2008 03:44 AMReply
His girlfriend was never in danger, if she was..all he had to do was size him up. I don't think too many 5^7 140lb would want to fight a 6^9 260. Posted 06/27/2008 09:44 AMReply
And to this "anonymous" guy before my post, I am truly sorry for you...
-Proud to be Serbian- Posted 06/27/2008 10:06 AMReply
Since SERBS killed and burried alive so Bosnians & Albanians everyone could point out Serbia on the globe u F@*&%* A holes !!!!!!
Milo or whatever this guys name is is a true SERB in what he did, thats how all Serbs are
@ Anonymous: Posted 06/27/2008 10:32 AMReply
I don't care if he was black or white, he's a dirty fighter
Dirty fighters deserve no respect Posted 06/27/2008 10:59 PMReply
-Proud to be Serbian- Posted 06/28/2008 02:25 AMReply
If you are an american citizen in a foreign country and run down a child shooting through the red light, while DUI'ed, what you should immediately do is run straight to (do not call!) the local US embassy/consulate. DO NOT WAIT FOR A LOCAL POLICE and take a consequences.
US goverment will take a written statement from you about what happend and immediately ship you out of the country. Then, they get an embassy lawyer giv'em your "statement" and sent him to the local police as your legal representative, and the show can start... While you are sitting with a beer-can in the front of your plasma TV somewhere in the US.
That's how BIG GUY "takes care of the business". When little serbia does the same thing ... the BIG GUY GETS PISSED!
Think ...
By the way ... Americans and the Serbs do have soooo much in common. They are hated like hell by the rest of the planet. Yes, Srbs do have Bosnia and Kosovo etc. But you proud sons of great revolution have your 'Nams, Iraks, Afganistans, Panamas, they love you in Cuba, Venezuela, and all the South America, in Europe they are just crazy about your humble, inteligent, noble attitude and bushist policies ...
So, ... think again ...
PS: just wandering ... how do locals call US military in Irak "a hurd of rats"... maybe? Are they any better than minja (multiplied with 100000)? Oh wait! ... They are doing that beautiful "democracy thing" there (since no Al-kaeda and WMD were found). Poor Minja probably used some extra harsh arguments against the unlycky fella' ... but 260P. 6.9' and ful of testasteron ... you should well know how it feels. You are AMERICANS! Posted 06/28/2008 08:06 AMReply
-------------------------------------------------
If the USA could be detached from North America, towed out to sea, and then sunk with everyone it contains, the world would be a dramatically better and safer place.
True 100 years ago, true today.
-- slinkybender
or --------------------------
YOUR ALL PROUD TO BE "AMERICANS"." THEN STAY THE **** OVER THERE AND STOP COMING TO OUR IRAK TO GET OPPORTUNITIES THAT AREN'T AVAILABLE IN YOUR ****HOLE COUNTRY.
and his one is the treat: ---------------------------
Since SERBS killed and burried alive so Bosnians & Albanians everyone could point out Serbia on the globe u F@*&%* A holes !!!!!!
Milo or whatever this guys name is is a true SERB in what he did, thats how all Serbs are
@ Anonymous:
---
He forgot one specialty of ours, and that is before we "... killed and burried alive..." them we usualy rape them and put them on a BBQ. Killed and burried ones are only those who do not taste well. Posted 06/28/2008 08:38 AMReply
Brother, ... you're gonna get your brain demaged from watching so mach bad porn. Go out, geta a girlfriend, throw a ball, it's summer ... chill out, weather is nice ... :) Posted 06/28/2008 09:09 AMReply
Minja wherever you are I missed you alot and i love you and return my undies
Alexa Posted 06/28/2008 3:31 PMReply
Get the **** out of our country if you hate us so much Posted 06/29/2008 6:02 PMReply
Dude, you say that you educated yourself about the history of the balkans and know about nasty war in Yugoslavia..? :) Only by reading your statement everyone can see that you don't have idea what are you talking about, so please stop with that bulls..t ok? Or you are just stupid and think that time exists only from 1990 to 2008? :)) Anyway, you are funny guy and thanks for make me laugh. :))
I don't hate America or every single American nore other Serbs here. There are good and kind people in America like in Serbia. But there are allways some "smartguys"... Especially here it seems to me...
-Proud to be Serbian- Posted 06/30/2008 05:46 AMReply
Treba Vas sve amerikance tako... Posted 07/01/2008 01:02 AMReply
mogu samo da nas mrze oni ko na nas nevole!!! Posted 07/03/2008 12:05 AMReply
filip bajagic
Join the community
Beograd, Serbia 1 min ago
and if u wanna deport any immigrant, kick the jews out and ur country will be a lot better of. the spanish, the egyptians , and the germans were no fools. i am not saying kill them, but set them up all in israel and let them drain themselves financialy cause they are obviously holding the us by its balls. enough is enough. i am serbian and two of my grandfathers brothers died in world war two defending the world from the nazis. does anybody ever mention them. why do we gotta hear about ann frank and the jews all the time, i am sick of it! Posted 07/03/2008 01:35 AMReply
And for the person who commented above me, defend your country all you want, defend your little friend, I don't care, just don't come on my post and leave offensive comments.
This has nothing to do with countries, religions, cultures, it has to do with two people. So stop using this as an outlet to hate on other people. It's pathetic. Posted 07/03/2008 07:09 AMReply
Sto se tice mene i moih ortaka iz Kragujevca - glavu bi dali za Miladina! Neka pederi bombarduju opet ako treba , Miladin ne sme biti isporucen jevrejskim govnima u Ameriku. Naravno da je nacionalni heroj...
NE PREDAJ SE MINJA SRBINE - NIKADA!! Posted 07/03/2008 07:48 AMReply
Jebalo ih osiguranje da ih jebalo, boli njih ku**c za sina, njima su bitne pare koje treba da dobiju ( dobice ku**c). Evo vam novinari pa stavite ovo u kurir jebo vas kurir!!! hmmmm koga jos da ispljujem ??? e ovako treba nabiti na kolac sledece: Busha, decka koji je glumio zmaja pa je dobio po surli ( haha al sam ga srovio ko papir guz), novinare obavezno, hmmm koga jos??? da da i one iz osiguranja koji bi se jebali za dinar, i naravno roditelje od tog decka, pa lekare koje lece ono djubre narkomansko (u komi je? priblizite mu spric da vidite kako ce da se probudi i da vam posrka ona govna sto stavljate u anestezije), jbt koga jos na kolac??? a da upravu kurira, pinka, blica i svih americkih novina. Treba nabiti sve amere koji su stavili onakve bolesne komentare, seru na sve strane. poserem im se na zvezdice na zastavi!!! hahaha najjaci deo!!! hmmm sta bih jos trebao da dodam na ovaj clanak? da da treba da pozdravim sve kuljane ( shileta, qzmu.... i svu ostalu ekipu eee da i naravno kroneta), a posebno Minju.
e sada ono glavno: nabijem sve novinare na ku**c, stavite ovo u kurir na kraju posta cu da vam ostavim ime, prezime, nadimak, godinu rodjenja, email hmmm i sta jos treba? jmbg mozda? eee ostavicu vam i adresu pa da u kuriru izajde full clanak znaci full, a jbg nemate moju sliku, dobro javite mi se na msn pa cu vam dati moju sliku, ali samo sliku, autograme ne dajem. e i zaboravio sam da treba i na blic da stavite i to obavezno, i na pinku da bude i na b92, ma svuda ovo mora biti. jebem vas glupave. znaci ukratko novinare na kolac!!!! hmmm jbt sad citam i kontam da mi je svaka druga rec ku**c, ako bude ovo na vestima morace da kazu PIIIIIIIIIIP a na engleski cete morati prevesti kao DICK??? znaci obavestite i amere o ovom postu...
E sada ono jos glavnije: Zovem se Darko, prezivam se Tesic, rodjen sam 09.06.1990, zovu me ridji i svi me znaju tako, msn adresa je ridji25@hotmail.com, skype ( ridji18 ), kucnu adresu ne dam da mi ne dolazi tu FBI pa da moram da pucam bezveze ipak male dece ima u okolini. javite mi se na msn da vam dam sliku pa da clanak koji objavite bude potpun, i ovo napisite obavezno KO OBJAVI OVO NABIJEM GA NA KU**C (haha evo opet ku**c)!!!
treba li jos sta? sad cu da stavim ovo sranje u bookmark pa cu posetiti ujutru da vidim jel se ko busa da ga kulturno spustim i da mu uteram ku**c (evo opet kur*a) a bar sam kulturan pa stavim zvezdicu, bas me zanima kako ce na pinku onaj matori sto sere da stavi zvezdicu kad prica.
Zaboravio sam najglavnije: iz kule sam
eto ljudi to je to, ko se ljuti uvalim mu kruti. Pozdrav za Minju, nedaj se, pusti govna nek smrde!!! Posted 07/04/2008 7:49 PMReply
I hope he gets extradited and has to pay for his crimes! and Serbs you just CREATED a Anti-Serb with your ignorance, thanx!@ Oh Char: Posted 07/04/2008 9:18 PMReply
-Proud to be Serbian- Posted 07/05/2008 02:23 AMReply
Someone asked for a translation to the posts which have been written in Serbo-Croatian. While I don't have the time to translate each post (or mindless rant) depending on who you ask, I will give you an overview of the material.
The Serbian bloggers have repeatedly called "Minja" a national hero, saying that they will never let him be tried in an American court, anti American rants are common, anti semetic comments are also mentioned. Nationalistic Serbian Pride prevails throughout these arguments. There are also anti Serbian rants which only seem to fuel the fire, and make every post thereafter more racially charged.
Let's hope that the younger generation of Serbs sees that the Ultra-Nationalist (Cetnik) way of thinking, which calls for the demise of all nationalities and religions which are not Serbian is WRONG. And it reminds me to another movement which took place in the early 1900's In Germany, any Guesses? Posted 07/06/2008 5:18 PMReply
Dirty Fighters deserve no respect???!
wtf u talking about?
who bombed serbia 10 years ago,who helped muslims with airplanes,weapons,etc.in the `91 war,who is still helping Albanians to make their illegal country?!
Yes,America and her ****in` goverment...
Punish the guilty one,but all of them,not just those who are on America`s list... Posted 07/07/2008 04:33 AMReply
we didn`t have control over our ambassy in US,who transported him,so?Is every Serb now guilty for that?Would every Serb do action like that?
No,my fried,don`t generalize...
let`s clear somethin,i`m for the trial,for everyone who does things like that and much worse,if the truth is correct.. Posted 07/07/2008 08:31 AMReply
ne vredi ovim americkim retardima ista objasnjavati a ni ovi latino nisu nista bolji izgleda..
zatucala ih jebena televizija i novine..mamu li im americku...
vidis ja pokusavam na finjaka,al` on psuje mamu mu j***m bushovsku...(evo i ja zvezdice koristim)
Ko ih jebe,mozemo i mi sami samo da smo slozni (samo sklonis ove politicare i mirni smo)..
Znas onu navijacku "ooo,nama najbolje..." Posted 07/07/2008 08:40 AMReply
THERE IS NO SERBO-CROATIAN LANGUAGE - THERE IS ONLY SERBIAN YOU BRAIN MORON!!! Posted 07/07/2008 11:46 AMReply
Someone asked for a translation to the posts which have been written in Serbo-Croatian. While I don't have the time to translate each post (or mindless rant) depending on who you ask, I will give you an overview of the material.
Vi prljavi Ameri (SERB) - You dirty Americans (ENG)
Pusite nam kurac (SEB) - Suck our(Serbian)dick(ENG)
Georg Bush (SER) - Stupid moron whit ugly face (ENG)
Georg Bush (SER) - A men who is extremely stupid(ENG)
Amerikanci(SER) - Pigs (ENG)
Jebem vam crnacko-jevrejsku majku (SER) - I **** your negrin-jew mother (ENG) Posted 07/07/2008 12:02 PMReply
a huge guy knocked the crap out of a scrawney one. can anyone here honestly believe that a kid as smart as this one was supposed to be would really do something to bring down the wrath of a kid twice his size. and do you really think a guy is innocent when the people around him said he was drunk and on drugs, beat a kid to near death, and then fled the country?
think about it logically Posted 07/07/2008 7:16 PMReply
-Proud to be Serbian- Posted 07/08/2008 09:26 AMReply
ridji (zasto se ja jedini potpisujem?) Posted 07/09/2008 03:15 AMReply
And send his retarded whore-of-a-mother to jail too. Posted 07/10/2008 3:05 PMReply
- Tommy Troubles From the Bean Posted 07/10/2008 5:02 PMReply
- Tommy Troubles From the Bean
----------------------------------------------------
Tommy, We also would have also taken care of the punk "Minja" in short order down here in Pasadena Texas.
- Joe Horn, "packing heat" in Pasadena Tx. Posted 07/16/2008 12:17 AMReply
c'mon, this was my entertainment Posted 07/18/2008 8:27 PMReply
#What Itâs Like to Chill with the Most Ruthless Men in the World
Ratko Mladic and Radovan Karadzic:
Confessions of a Female War Crimes Investigator
Retrospectively, it was all so simple, natural and matter of fact being on a boat restaurant in Belgrade, sitting with, laughing, drinking a two hundred bottle of wine and chatting about war and peace while Ratko Mladic held my hand. Mladic, a man considered the worldâs most ruthless war criminal since Adolf Hitler, still at large and currently having a five million dollar bounty on his head for genocide by the international community. Yet there I was with my two best friends at the time, a former Serbian diplomat, his wife, and Ratko Mladic just chilling. There was no security, nothing youâd ordinarily expect in such circumstances. Referring to himself merely as, Sharko; this is the story of it all came about.
It all began as former United States President Bill Clinton spearheaded NATOâs war against Serbia, Montenegro and Slobodan Milosevic (March 1999). Thirty-five years old, conducting graduate study work at the New School for Social Research in New York City in political science, I planned graduating spring 1999 with an area study emphasis in international law and human rights. I was naïve then, still believing strongly in democratic liberal concepts such as freedom of academic thought. Hence, I never anticipated my political views would impede either my graduation or completing my masterâs thesis work on whether NATO member states committed gross violations of customarily accepted international criminal law in launching military aggression against Serbia and Montenegro owing to not acquiring United Nations Security Counsel approval prior.
Then as hit with the identical smart bomb dropped on Milosevicâs presidential palace in Serbia the night of April 22nd 1999, political science chairperson then at the New School, Professor David Plotke, summoned me into his office before class that evening and dismissed me from the masterâs program at the New School owing to what he considered my possessing unsavory political science opinions.
Only having to complete two more classes to graduate, I always thought my future in political sciences as wide open with innumerous possibilities; unfortunately this proved untrue. Plotke told me in no uncertain terms that I was not the type of person the New School wanted walking around with a degree stating the New Schoolâs prestigious name on it.
Ironically, the New School was an institution I attended only owing to itsâ placing great pride and emphasis on allowing students complete academic freedom of thought without dictating what is and what is not politically correct to discuss. Yet surprisingly, dismissal from the program and blow to my graduate work should not been completely unexpected since the semester immediately prior, the school refused allowing me to conduct my graduate thesis work on the subject of whether the NATO and Bill Clinton committed war crimes against the former Yugoslavia during the Kosovo war (1999) and internally suggested I write about infringement of Muslim human rights in France. I suppose with the likes of Hillary Clinton and Tony Blair hanging about the fourth floor of the school at the renown World Policy Institute in 1999, I should have expected the university would not take kindly to studentâs speaking out critically against Bill Clinton and the Kosovo war (1999) he went down in history for advocating. Then again, in 1999 I still believed in the schoolâs core ideals of academic freedom, especially since I was paying no less than one thousand United States dollars a credit to attend. My civil rights lawsuit against the college is another story in and of itself not deserving extended amounts of space here, except what I already mentioned.
Dismissal from graduate school left me in a complete state of scholarly anomie seeking empathy and solace from my few friends and confidants at the time including many diplomats I studied with at the New School for several years. The list included but was not limited to ambassadors from Iran, Oman and a newly appointed First Secretary of the Bosnian Mission to the United Nations in New York, Darko Trifunovic.
Noteworthy of mentioning, both the ambassadors from Iran and Oman both confided in me their own extreme dissatisfactions and the scholarly problems they themselves currently encountered at the New School for Social Research. On the last day attending the school, both aforementioned men explicitly complained to me the school was holding them back from graduating owing to their own so-called extremely unsavory political viewpoints. In particular the Iranian ambassador, Amir, was writing his masterâs thesis on the Iranian contra affair and the man from Oman told me for years he was being held back from graduating because Greek Professor Addie Pollis strongly disdained his Islamic religious and cultural views insofar as human rights and multiple marriage partners by Muslim sultans in his country of origin. It was May (1999).
Riddled with uncertainty about my future scholarly status, I immediately applied for graduate study at Farleigh Dickinson University in New Jersey where I studied an additional two years before encountering similar problems with the graduate school faculty there. Ironically it was only FDU professors whom formerly studied themselves at the New School still in touch with the faculty there, who were later responsible for my having to leave the graduate program at FDU in early 2002.
Between the time of my dismissal from the New School and my dismissal from FDU the fall (2002), I stayed in touch with many scholars and other politically active persons sharing similar anti-war views as myself regarding NATOâs 1999 Kosovo war including: Professor Barry Lituchy (NYC), Ramsey Clarkâs people at the International Action Center, and a couple of new acquaintances Iâve chanced meet online in Serbian political activist forums. One of those people was, Darko Trifunovic.
Darko and I were e-mailing each other regularly by early spring (1999) at which time he informed me that he became the newly appointed First Secretary of the Bosnian Mission to the United Nations in New York City and wondered whether I would pick him up at JFK airport when he arrives in a few weeks; I acceded. Darko arrived first, his very beautiful wife, Bojana, arrived as expected about one month later after he was settled.
Darko greatly impressed me at the time. Being a former political advisor to the to the former female President of the Republic of Srpska in Bosnia, he had a degree in international law, diplomatic immunity, was a writer, handsome, and fun to just hang-out with and work. The three of us became extremely close friends and confidants. I even became voted in as the executive director of the Law Projects Center Yugoslavia in New York . The Law Projects Center was a United Nations accredited NGO and offshoot of the Yugoslav Coalition to Establish and international criminal court. Darko and some political people originally founded the organization in Belgrade Serbia prior his arrival in New York City in diplomatic capacity. I worked fervently legally registering the organization in New Jersey as a legally filed non-profit successfully. The Law Projects Center and its activities demanded Darko, his wife and I often stayed the night over each othersâ apartments often; many times working days at a time with very little sleep.
From winter (1999) until fall (2002), Darko, his wife and I worked daily at the Bosnian Mission to the United Nations in New York City co-authoring two books: 1) The Bosnian Model of Al-Qaeda Terrorism and; 2) The Srebrenica Massacre. As a young student of war and peace in the former Yugoslavia, I was in scholarly heaven accessing the United Nations to work with Darko daily. This enabled my meeting many of the most fascinating people in the world. I vividly remember Senator Bill Richardson at the time giving nightly press interviews on television about meeting with OPEC members states, âsetting them straight about lowering oil prices in 2000.â Yet when Iâd chit-chat with the Iranian ambassador in the city before class asking him about it he would say to me something to the effect as,â We at OPEC are so angry about former colonialism by England and America, OPEC will continually attempt bringing both the United States and England to their financial knees on energy issuesâ¦And by the way Jill, Russia does not in any manner intend to halt weapon sales to Iran.â
In fact Amir and I, notwithstanding our theological differences, got alone well. Weâd often sit together before class acceding on a great many matters. In particular I remember us sitting one night and looking me square in the eye stating, âYou know Jill, I will never believe that Jesus Christ is the Son of God.â I replied, âAnd I Amir will never convert to Islam.â Now that we got that out of the way, we both smiled at one another getting down to discussing real issues.
The Bosnian mission to the United Nations in New York City in 2001 was an extremely interesting place. Reflecting the rotating ethnic presidency existing in Bosnia unto present, Mission employees were comprised of people of completely bipolar ethnic, theological and politically ideological viewpoints. The Head Ambassador of the Mission post 9-11 was then combating rumors of his soon becoming persona non grata in the United States for allegedly giving Osama Bin Laden a visa to travel through Bosnia illegally when previously stationed in Italy in 1993. There were also rumors he confessed to the United States Department of State of running international arms trades in connection with Al-Qaeda. The number two man at the Bosnian mission, the First Ambassador was Serbian, Orthodox Christian and a doctor of medicine by university degree. The First Secretary of the Mission was my friend Darko, the Consulate department was headed by an ethnic Muslim lady from Bosnia, and there was an ethnic Croatian woman floating around with other various diplomats being of Roman Catholic Croatian descent.
My time at the Mission was primarily spent fixing Darkoâs laptop computer which became daily infected with computer viruses he continually claimed emanated from other employees at the Mission who were allegedly trying to sabotage him because of his ethnic Serbian background. I vividly recall the constant bickering between all the mission employees; always accusing each other of committing war crimes and giving each other computer viruses making it virtually impossible for any of them to get along. The Croatian diplomat usually stayed to herself with her office door shut while the others present usually just listened to Led Zeppelin rock music on their personal CD-ROM players. They told me repeatedly they had nothing else to do with their time at the United Nations beyond an occasional meeting except for listening to music and playing computer games.
Sad and ironic was the few things I noticed all the Bosnian mission employees agreeing upon was their undying love for the rock band, Led Zeppelin.
A year had come and gone while I totally immersed myself into political inquiry as to just who was guilty of committing war crimes in the former Yugoslavia. My favorite subjects of inquiry included: NATO, Kosovo & Metohia, Serbia, Montenegro, Bosnia and persons of interest such as Mladic and Hacim Thaci (Albanian Leader of the Kosovo Liberation Army). It was not enough for my merely taking in nightly news reports from CNN and other mainstream American media; to conduct an investigation for inquiry of social fact, I needed to go to Serbia and investigate for myself.
Only after seeing firsthand the goings on in the Balkans could I make a discriminate determination of guilty parties insofar as genocide there. After my fateful month long trip to Serbia and Montenegro in the fall 2002 I later concluded all warring parties involved had blood on their hands (Croats, Serbs, Muslims and the NATO); there are no innocents. But in 2001, neither my finances nor busy schedule allowed such a trip. Moreover, not speaking fluent Serbian coupled with the anti-American sentiment existing in Serbia then listed on the United States Department of State travel warning website caused going to there an unfeasible option. Hence, my life and studies went on as usual.
Several seasons went by and now it was spring 2001. Darko and his wife Bojana had time off which they spent visiting friends and family in Serbia for about two weeks. Because of this Darko was unable to function in full diplomatic capacity. In spring 2001 there was a preparatory commission meeting of plenipotentiaries to establish an international criminal court at the United Nations in New York City. Topics of the meeting included but were not limited to defining interstate acts of aggression, court financing etc.. Darko asked me if I would sit in for him at the meeting taking as many notes possible owing to the Law Projects Center possessing United Nations accreditation as a NGO (non governmental organization) with full observer status at the United Nations; I acceded.
Darko faxed me all necessary paperwork enabling my application attendance at this crucial meeting; I filled out the necessary forms and faxed them to the appropriate United Nations office for approval. It was an extremely exciting time for me. My close friend and colleague, Arnold Stark (History professor and Columbian University PhD) drove me into Manhattan walking me through the United Nations main entrance and security the day of attendance. Professor Stark himself was an old foreign service man from way back in the day and he told me I never looked as professionally sharp as I did on that day; I wore a navy blue pin striped suit. I must admit, I looked good.
Only post attending that day did I truly understand the total lapse of security existing then at the United Nations in New York City. I say this owing to the social fact that the Law Projects Center was indeed registered as an United nations accredited NGO it is true. However, closed meetings of this sort meant attendance was strictly limited to head ambassadors of valid United Nations member state missions and non governmental organizations possessing observer status were not allowed.
Unto present, Iâve yet understood whereby I gained entrance into this privy closed meeting consisting of only United Nations ambassadors, but I did. Walking to the basement floor of the United Nations building that day, I merely wore a visitors badge given to me at the front desk in no manner indicating that I was an ambassador of a United Nations mission; least of all the Bosnia mission as required for entrance. Totally unaware I didnât possess necessary credentials to enter the meeting, I walked confidently towards the entrance door and past the guard stationed outside it. The guard never bothering to examine the type of badge I wore around my neck simply said âgood day Madameâ and urged me into the meeting; it was just about time to begin.
I immediately sensed something wrong once through the door past the guard. First, I was uncertain where to sit. Everyone else had a sign in front of their seat stating their country of origin. The Israeli ambassador sat in front of the Israel sign, the Spanish lady sat in front of the seat indicating she represented, Spain etc..
I looked fervently around the room seeing no seats indicating seats for United Nations observers anywhere. The last thing I wanted to do was to embarrass myself by taking the seat of an important ambassador; I noticed a couple of men seeming from some African state grabbing some meeting paperwork nearby so I inquired of them. I told them I was a newbie and inquired where to sit and what I should do. With heavy African accents one of them said, âjust grab a bunch of these papers, sit there and look like you are busy,â so I did. In fact, I grabbed as many extra copies as I could without looking conspicuous when noticing another peculiarity.
The meeting papers indicated they were for restricted for the eyes of state mission headsâ only (chief ambassadors of countries) and allowing other persons and/or United Nations employees to view them was a punishable offense. Uncertain what to do, and with the meeting beginning, I merely sat there stunned. My seat and the one the African gentleman next to me took seemed extras because they neglected having any indication regarding country origin in front of them on the table; I felt safe.
As totally immersed and interesting as I found the topics, the African ambassador seated found boring. I say this owing to noticing during the entire meeting he was merely doodling nonsensical pictures on some legal pad. I think that no one took more notes that day than me. I was especially interested in the interstate bickering about financing the international criminal court should and when it came about. Spain was particularly forceful in vocalizing its opinion that the countries giving the most monetary contributions to the court itself ought have more power over both its staffing and its innocent and guilty verdicts as well as judges appointed. My suspicionsâ equally shared by scholars such as Noam Chomsky and former attorney general, Ramsey Clark were now fully justifiably confirmed. The court itself was a great travesty of justice and I was actually witnessing quarrels between countries insofar as controlling the courts judges and verdicts based on financial contributions rather than on law and true international justice.
The most shocking point of the meeting for me was when the Israeli ambassador admitted openly to the other attendees that Israel was indifferent to war crimes, crimes against humanity and would in no manner support any international structure limiting itsâ ability for practicing war and peace against any other state and/or party it considered a threat to its national interest. The ambassador representing the United States that day strongly and equally explicitly backed the Israeli position making clear American attendance was more for information gathering purposes and show than true concern for international law, world peace and social justice. When the meeting ended I slipped quickly out the front entrance of the United Nations; notes and papers in hand; I would read them in detail later that evening.
It must have amazed Darko upon returning from Serbia I actually gained entrance to the ICC preparatory closed meeting because within a week he invited me to the city to attend another important meeting at the United Nations comprised of diplomats from some very selective and prestigious NATO member states. I donât recall the date but by his return fully I understood the definition of a closed meeting. Upon approaching the meeting door I became at once cognizant the meeting stated âclosed meeting,â on the door. I did my best to point this fact out to Darko who told me to go in with him anyway; we did. Darko obviously thought because I gained entrance to the ICC meeting I ought not have in his absence, perhaps if I were with him, he covertly could gain access this closed NATO meeting; no dice. Upon entering the room, immediately some important looking man called him over and diplomatically informed him that âSerbia was not invited.â Darko pointed to me explaining that he was with the American lady but he was asked politely to leave; I followed him out the door embarrassed.
The following year was mundane. Filled with activities like shuttling back and forth to FDU for graduate school, fund raising for the Law Projects Center and co-authoring two book with Darko. The fateful day of 9/11 and the attacks by Al-Qaeda on the World Trade Center Towers in New York City changed my venue forever. Post 9/11 Darko became a man on a personal mission seemingly unrelated to the Bosnian mission itself.
He told me it was the utmost importance to publicize the alleged fact that the head ambassador of the Bosnian mission was in his estimation involved with Al-Qaeda. Darko had a seemingly ton of secret documentary evidence emanating from the ministry of internal affairs in Belgrade and Bosnia seeming true bolstering his allegations in my eyes then.
Asking me to fervently work on editing a book on which topic was meant for exposing the head ambassador of the Bosnian mission at that time; I acceded. The publication was later published by the Repubika Srpska information agency in Bosnia. The Serbian government in the Republika Srpska in Bosnia then was seriously pressing Darko for a fast publication so we stayed up many nights over his apartment in Forest Hills, New York working to do so. The book was entitled, âThe Bosnia Model of Al-Qaeda Terrorism. It can probably still be found and read online. Last time I checked it was posted on the website: http://www.analyst-network.com/profile.php?user_id=240.
Darko always told me I possessed full rights to this and other publications we worked on together. Although I edited and co-authoring the Al-Qaeda work, a few years back I noticed Darko removed my name on the inner front cover page as editor replacing it with the name of a Serbian editor. When questioned about it Darko told me he kept my name from being published because of the death threats and dangers to my life that he himself encountered because of its publication. I do vividly remember Darko receiving a great many death threats and threats towards his wife at the time, Bojana, so it is possible he was telling me the truth.
Even prior completing our work on the Al-Qaeda book together Darko was obsessed with manifesting the Bosnian Chief ambassador at the time as a terrorist. At the time I had no reason to doubt Darkoâs word and assisted him in rabidly writing an open letter to all the United Nations member state missions exposing him as such. I surmise this is when Darkoâs job at the United Nations as First Secretary of the Bosnian mission became jeopardized.
Today I surmise Darkoâs employment at the United Nations genuinely became compromised owing not only to the inter-ethnic conflicts existing between him and the head ambassador then, a proud Muslim man, but also owing to the fact he forged birth certificates to acquire his position in the first place later becoming a social fact from the interior ministry in Bosnia. It was an emotional shock when Darko informed me a by summer 2001 that he lost his job and he and Bojana had to immediately return to Belgrade to work out the matter in court. This was also a great emotional blow to me also owing to the fact that I always possessed a crush on Darko and he knew it. This was a social fact I never publicly admitted previously to writing this book. I once even asked Darko if he wanted to have an affair with me but he declined stating he would never be unfaithful to his beautiful wife, Bojana. This left me in an extreme morally uncomfortable position because Bojana was my best friend. I continually told myself being attracted to her husband Darko was a non-option. Working so closely with him on an almost daily basis however made my attraction to him difficult to overcome.
I was also engaged to Professor Arnold Stark at the time and wore the ten thousand diamond ring he bought me on my finger. Arnold became increasingly jealous of Darko in time and eventually forbid me to work with him altogether. Notwithstanding, I continued working with Darko against Arnoldâs wishes. This coupled with my trip to Serbia and Montenegro in 2002 eventually led to my breakup with Professor Stark and after almost an entire decade, my relationship with Arnold never fully recovered.
Darko tried keeping his job in diplomatic capacity at he UN as long as possible but the bipolar friction and hate existing between himself and the chief ambassador at the mission proved too much. The chief ambassador in contact with the Bosnian government at the time in Sarajevo eventually had Darko dismissed as first secretary of the mission. To the best of my recollection Darko was no longer receiving a monthly salary from Sarajevo by spring or summer 2002 (approximately).
I often came visiting Darko and Bojanaâs apartment in Manhattan then situated on a side street within walking distance from the UN to help them out financially by buying them inexpensive dinners and such in Manhattan and chauffeuring them around (they did not own a car for the majority of their stay in the States).
In July 2002 as I remember the three of us spent many memorable moments going to the beaches outside the city and just spending time talking etc.. At the time and owing to my being in graduate school at FDU, I had plenty of extra money to burn owing my taking the maximum GSL student loans totaling about twenty thousand dollars a semester. Then one day that summer Darko informed me he and Bojana were only awaiting the Bosnian government to wire them a sum of five thousand dollars to pay off their American bills, last month rent and they would make a hasty exit back to Belgrade permanently. I was emotionally crushed.
Desperate not to lose contact with Darko because of my personal feelings towards him, I told him my summer classes at FDU were about to end August 2002 and although the fall semester was about to begin, I wanted to visit him in Serbia as soon as possible. Soon for me meant as soon as I received a check from the United States government for the total of that semestersâ student loan money in the amount of about ten thousand dollars.
Darko, hesitant at first soon gave in to my constant petitions to visit him. The day I brought them both to JFK to return to Serbia permanently, Bojana whispered something in Darkoâs ear as we hugged saying our goodbyes all three of trying to hold back tears of parting and Darko looking me in the eye said something to the effect, âJill, donât worry as soon as you can afford it call me and weâll arrange your visit.â Darko never could stand to see me cry which on many occasion I did owing to the loss of my two children and other personal challenges in my life. They turned and boarded their plane to Belgrade as I drove back to New Jersey. Driving home I felt an odd combination of extreme sadness at the loss of my two best friends mixed with the cheerful prospect I would shortly be boarding a plane myself destined for Serbia and Montenegro by mid August 2002 when my student loan check arrived. Upon arriving home I immediately began making all necessary arrangements for my forthcoming trip.
The day following Darko âs departure, I bought a great many prepaid phone cards for the purpose of calling him owing to both my missing him and also my primarily wanting to began making all necessary arrangements facilitating my forthcoming visit from JFK to Beograd. I had countless questions such as: how much money will I need, how will I obtain a VISA being an American citizen with all the US State Department warnings against US citizenry traveling to the region, etc., etc., etc.. I had already obtained a valid United States passport many years ago which I always carried with me. Iâve always held the strong opinion that having a valid passport with you at all times is just a good idea. It enables one the necessary freedom to go to the airport and catch a plane going anywhere at anytime.
Darko told me that I need not worry about all the complicated VISA requirements listed on Serbian government website required of other Americans that he would handle everything. I was told merely to bring with me about five thousand United States dollars in cash spending money and it was a done deal. I went to buy some new suitcases and clothes for my trip in Wayne, New Jersey during the first two weeks in August 2002 in preparation. Packing was always a problem for me as Darko can attest to owing to my medically diagnosed attention deficit disorder. I had a difficult time deciding what to bring, so I tried to bring everything I thought I needed. The day of my departure my suitcases weighed way over the weight limit restrictions indicated by the airline.
Getting to JFK for departure in mid August 2002 proved to be an almost insurmountable task in and of itself owing to my heavy luggage and everyone I asked to drop me at the airport that day had strongly held views against my going. Arnold Stark declined to bring me owing to his personal jealousies insofar as Darko and everyone else had one or another excuse rooted in the anti-American sentiment in Serbia at that time and danger involved.
Undeterred, I finally convinced Archbishop John LoBue, my priest and confessor at the Holy Name Orthodox Christian Church in West Milford, New Jersey to take me as far as the Port Authority in Manhattan; from there I took a bus to JFK managing myself.
Post 9/11, JFK was supposedly safe beyond reproach insofar as security; this proved untrue. I had not traveled outside America in many years so I was unfamiliar with the new travel restrictions on such items as nail scissors etc., being illegal to bring onboard flights and carried several very sharp ones right passed JFK security inspection inside my purse on board out of my own ignorance of new flight rules. It was not until I arrived on my stopover in Paris, France that I was boarding onto a JAT (Yugoslav Air Travel) flight for Belgrade that the security officer of JAT told me that he had to confiscate the aforementioned items owing to new security precautions implemented post 9/11.
I informed him upon boarding my initial flight at JFK in New York, the security guards at the gate allowed me to board my flight to Paris carrying them in my purse. The JAT security employee merely shook his head in amazement mentioning something insofar as his seriously questioning American security in general stating that Jugosalv Air Travel obviously took airline and passenger security much more seriously.
I loved flying JAT! Not only was I completely satisfied the flight from Paris to Belgrade was many times more secure since JAT searched boarding passengers more thoroughly than JFK, the hospitality, food and drink was excellent. I say this owing to my being a well seasoned traveler having previously visited places such as Indonesia, Thailand and Hong Kong, etc.. It was extremely laid back on the flight. People moved around switching seats and chatting with good friends and the food was the best! My favorite Serbian food and drink were served and all airline employees shoed me the highest level of hospitality. I was extremely pleased with the professionalism and service on JAT I later began an online blog about it on Yahoo360.
Upon my flight arriving in Beograd, all passengers left the plane in the usual manner except Serbian citizens were shuffled through customs quickly merely showing their passport. All others including myself were asked to relinquish their passports and told to wait an unspecified amount of time in a holding area at the airport. An airport security officer went around confiscating our passports afterward leaving us merely standing there not knowing what to expect next. No other announcements were made; I did the only thing possible I relinquished my passport to the Serbian custom official along with the other western Europeans and/or Americans (if there were any) which I surmised like myself were attempting to enter Serbia from countries that were NATO allies in the Kosovo war against Slobodan Milosevic in 1999. There must have been about twenty persons with me just waiting.
All types of nagging thoughts plagued me such as âperhaps my friends were correct that I ought not have taken this tripâ¦was it really too dangerous to travel to Serbia with all the anti-American sentiment and what would happen if Serbian customs decided I was an American spy, kept my passport and I ended in some unknown jail and/or murderedâ¦.who would find meâ¦what could I do about it etc., etc., etc..â
It seemed nearly an hour passed; me and the others were still standing there waiting. I didnât want to seem scared or overly curious by asking either Serbian custom officials or anyone else waiting with me anything as to not cause unnecessary attention to myself. I also kept checking my watch wondering if Darko knew I was here waiting. I had hoped with his government connections he would at least inquire about my arrival since he told me he would pick me up. I drew comfort from the fact Darko was always very punctual picking up and bringing himself and others to airports. On numerous occasions I gave him and others rides to and from them. These and other thoughts plagued me when suddenly I heard a voice on the loud speaker call my name, Jill Starr, asking me to go to a customs area to claim my passport. I was the first person called so I donât know what happened to the others standing there still waiting. I hurriedly went to obtain my passport and was told that I cleared; the guard pointed the direction for me to go claim my luggage. You have no idea what a relief that was!
I took in my new surroundings pleased that I made it into the country successfully. As a young child my father took me with him traveling the world when he was an active nuclear engineering consultant for Chas T Main, USAID and the IMF. I had been in Indonesia during the turmoil in East Timor so I was used to being in war zones surrounded by soldiers with guns. I was presently older, but still I found such travel extremely exciting more than dangerous and looked forward to enjoying the rest of my vacation with Darko and Bojana.
Making it to the baggage claim area successfully I was relieved seeing Darko standing their waiting for me. I was not fluent in Serbian and didnât want to publicize it by asking people questions in English manifesting I was American. I hurried to him giving him a large hug.
I was so glad to see Darko. I noticed upon my arrival at the Belgrade airport that there were many female police officers equipped with guns wearing short mini skirts and extremely high heels. I asked Darko how they apprehended criminals in such high heels and he replied smirking that they donât have to run, they merely shot those not halting in the back and that stopped them.
Like a dream come true, there I was in Beograd Serbia against all odds and complaints from my friends. Darko helped me get my luggage to his friendâs vehicle telling me we could talk about everything I had to say later because we had to hurry. Darkoâs friend, a German man living in Serbia for years and an important military employee of the Serbian government in a grayish older large SUV vehicle with what seemed a special license plate was impatiently waiting at the front gate of the airport for us. Darkoâs friend did not speak fluent English but he did speak fluent German and Serbian. Darko told him to help lift my luggage into the trunk in Serbian and he did. Darko always liked to brag and as usual he introduced me to his friend giving me the details of his being an important man in the Serbian military etc.. We went straight from the Beograd airport to the home of Bojanaâs family in the suburbs of Belgrade and all became reacquainted.
Bojana and I hugged; she introduced me to her family (father, mother and brother who was a high school student in Beograd).
Afterward, Darko showed me the room upstairs where I would sleep which was actually Bojanaâs room also informing me of our three week itinerary; he had it all planned out. Darko told me we would all spend the night over Bojanaâs house, the next day sleep at his apartment outside Beograd and later explained the next day we would stop at his fatherâs familyâs house for dinner and leave from there making our way into Montenegro for a ten day vacation staying at his friendâs resort on Budvaâs seaside coast. Along the way Darko told me he would give me the best tour I could ask for and he did. He showed me military installations and one of my favorite stops was the NATO bombed Chinese embassy which I stood in front of only several yards from.
My night at Bojanaâs residence was wonderful. I was never showed as much love and hospitality as I did from her family. Although it was late in the evening (about 11pm Serbian time) when we arrived, Bojanaâs mother, a wonderful woman, treated me as her own daughter. She insisted that Darko, Bojana and I enjoy what seemed a 10 course home cooked meal. She was still cooking while she served us a variety of cooked steaks, vegetables and pastries. And like many Italian families she insisted I tried and ate everything. To top the night off before bed Bojana and her father performed an accordion duet live in the kitchen for me. Apparently, Bojana and her father were professional accordion players and Bojana explained that her fatherâs employment consisted of playing nightly in a local bar. Thereafter, we went to bed with full stomachs.
The next morning we all enjoyed an equally exquisite breakfast. Bojanaâs family had livestock in the backyard and her mother cooked us a fresh eggs and steak for breakfast like never before experienced. We said our parting goodbyes and left for Darkoâs apartment in the hills of Beograd. We brought my suitcases in and upon entering I noticed there were lots of stray dogs around the apartment entrance. One in particular was very cute and Darko explained that the various residents fed it because it was so adorable. I found it interesting that so many old men were just hanging about the entrance to the apartment building drinking and just sitting there with seemingly nothing to do. They remained there throughout my entire trip.
Even when Ratko Mladic came to see me on my final day in Serbia in full military regalia giving me a parting gift (a book he inscribed to me entitled Serbija) while Darko took pictures of Mladic with his arm around me, the men remained there merely looking like old bums. Retrospectively, I wonder if they werenât some watchmen and/or guards. Unto this day I always wondered what Darko did with those photos.
I was surprised what a very large apartment Darko owned. He showed me into his guest room and I unpacked my suitcases in just enough time to inform me I was to consolidate all my truly necessary items for Montenegro into one small bag that would reasonably fit into his trunk in the morning because he needed enough room for his and Bojanaâs luggage also. He laughed at all the things I brought with me to Beograd telling me that I had no idea how to pack.
By the time I was done with that task Darko told me it was time to go meet some friends at a local café for coffee. It was late summer and the outside caféâs in Beograd were the best ! We met up with a few friends in some restaurant in Beograd; there was about five of us sitting there just chatting and drinking coffee when I noticed an older gentleman sitting a few seats down with feathered salt and pepper colored hair not saying much except for an occasional laugh and nod at us. I wondered wherefore Darko a man about thirty would associate with such an older person, as for me being several years older than Darko, I thought to myself, what a cute guy. Then upon closer inspection, I realized it was doctor Radovan Karadzic. I knew he was a psychiatrist. By no means was this to be our last meeting. Throughout the time I spent in Serbia Darko met with Karadzic on many occasions in Beograd. The meetings were usually brief; only to exchange oral information and/or a few papers with Darko and whisper something or other in Darkoâs ear. He looks as the news media portrays him dressed in his gray wrinkled suit and tie and salt and pepper colored hair. He was a perfect gentleman all times I met him with Darko. After finishing our coffee, Darko said we ought leave and get a good nights rest because we had to leave early the next day for Montenegro.
The next morning we all got into Darkoâs blue Audi (car) and left for his Fatherâs house. I remember arguing with Darko about wanting to bring lots of luggage with me and he replied I didnât need all that stuff and I could only bring one normal sized bag with me and I had to leave the rest of my things at his apartment; I did. On the way to his fatherâs, Darko made a few important stops for the purpose of giving me the grand tour. We only stopped briefly at some military installations; we didnât get out of the car. We drove up to the gates and Darko pointed out, âlook Jill, this is an important military facility.â Darko always sarcastically smirked as he pointed out these places to me. The only place we got out was in front of the bombed out Chinese embassy in Beograd. There were Serbian military officers in front of the embassy. I was amazed owing to I always had thought bombed out buildings were totally demolished. But standing in front of the Chinese embassy that was bombed by the NATO in 1999 taught me the definition of a âsmart bomb.â
Only the portion of the building hosting the embassy employees on the upper level of the building itself was demolished and in particular the window where the Chinese embassy officials worked. I could see in the window and I even got a sad glimpse of the Victorian styled chair sitting there empty in the bombed out window. I wondered who used to sit there and if they were dead or alive. No other parts of the building was seriously damaged. There were even flowers and trees still growing untouched in front of the building. I strongly believe that NATO knew exactly what they aimed at when they bombed the building.
I brought a digital camera with me on my trip but upon returning to the United States, all the film Darko claimed to snap for me was returned by my local film developer as blank. I wondered if Darko told me the truth about snapping photos for me at all. Throughout my trip he insisted on taking all the photos I wanted claiming I take poor pictures. It since crossed my mind he may have removed the film from my camera prior my departing Serbia so I could not take it back with me. One thing I am sure of is both Darko and Bojana refused having any photos taken of them throughout my entire stay.
After leaving the scene at the Chinese embassy, we made our way to the home of Darkoâs father driving through a beautiful park not dissimilar to Central Park in Manhattan along the way. I canât be certain what park it was because I didnât know the geographical area; we soon arrived at our destination. Darkoâs father lived in the most incredibly beautiful green hills in an area of Serbia existing somewhere between Beograd and Montenegro. Immediately upon entering and meeting his father, stepmother and grandmother who recently passed away, I felt part of the family. Although his family did not speak English, Darko and Bojana translated for me.
Darkoâs grandmother was an extraordinarily warm and wise woman in whose presence I felt comfortable and happy the entire time. Before dinner there was the customary libation of grappa (a Serbian hard liquor of incredible potency). If only I could find grappa here in America. After another dinner that would give Manhattanâs top chefs a run for their money, Darko brought me upstairs into a guest room to take a nap.
I told him I was not tired but he insisted I nap saying we would be driving all night before reaching Montenegro and I need my rest. I must have slept an hour before he awakened me to say our parting goodbyes and begin our journey. I was extremely excited; Darko promised me a three week Adriatic holiday allowing me swimming privileges at every beach from Hercegovni to an area he said was only ten meters from Kosovoâs border. We couldnât go into Kosovo Darko said because it was too dangerous. I knew Darko had been shot several times and almost killed in Kosovo previously so I didnât push the issue. As a former lifeguard and avid swimmer, I couldnât wait for my vacation to start and Darko delivered it to me as promised.
The onset of our journey began at sunset; still adjusting to the time zone differential I dozed off in Darkoâs backseat; for how long Iâm uncertain. I dozed on and off until sunrise when we reached the Montenegrin border. I mean, there wasnât much to see driving in the dark cover of night. The wider well lit highway we initially set out upon gradually narrowed as the highway lights became fewer. Eventually there were no highway lights at all. My body continuously shifted from one side of Darkoâs backseat to the other making sleep difficult.
It was obvious the road we traversed was analogous to Pacific Coast Highway in California driving through Big Sur. It was mountainous, dangerously ridden with hairpin turns and no guardrails. In Montenegro, inexperienced travelers could almost mistake the scenery for Big Sur with the beautiful blue Adriatic sea hugging the bottoms of the cliffs we not so cautiously traveled. I asked Darko to slow down because he was driving like speed racer. He replied not to worry explaining he could drive these roads blindfolded he knew them well. I thought to myself, better safe than sorry buddy. It is a good thing I had some prescription Xanax with me, I popped one, maybe two just to relax while simultaneously trying to hide this act from Darko since he hated drugs in general. He especially hated my taking the prescription medications my doctor gave me saying I didnât need them, they were addicting and poison. He also strongly disdained cigarettes; Bojana smoked covertly.
The sun was just rising when Darko awakened me excitedly pointing out the tunnel we were driving through. I think he said at the other end weâd be entering Montenegro. Driving to the Budva Riviera in Montenegro we drove through some similar tunnels; the scenery was unbelievably breathtaking. There is no other place in the world Iâd rather be than in Budva Montenegro and I recommend everyone vacation there. We were making our way to a seaside resort a friend of Darko owned. Still driving like speed racer around the hairpin turns and mountainous cliffs compromising the road, we finally arrived at our destination safely. I admit Darko is an excellent driver; his driving is reminiscent of agent 007 in James Bond movies.
Because of the Kosovo war, there was not one functional ATM in either in Serbia and Montenegro. To be safe I split the five thousand dollars we had between Darko and I. I held onto half and he the other. One of my favorite stories I tell people of my trip is how I swam with my money throughout the trip; it made me feel secure always keeping some cash on me at all times; even when I was swimming a quarter mile out in the Adriatic sea. Darko told me not to; I did anyway.
Owing to that, the cash I held was often wet. One particular time we went to a bank in Montenegro. The banks there are so remarkably careful of counterfeiting, they refused exchanging my United States dollars for Euros because my money was wet; the three of us returned to the hotel using my blow dryer to evaporate the dollar bills until dried. The three of us henceforth joked about this saying we laundered the money.
Upon arriving at the resort, Darko introduced me to his friend and we worked out the financial gratuities for our stay. We paid him eight hundred United States dollars for ten days; meals included. Unlike hotels in America, meals meant an extremely large home cooked breakfast consisting of large varieties of meat, coffee and juice. Lunch and dinner consisted of many course meals where main dishes consisted of either freshly caught seafood or meat. Our accommodation consisted of two medium sized rooms with separate entrances; one for myself and another for Darko and Bojana. To reach the beach we only needed to walk across the street and down a small path; one could see Italy at the other end of the horizon on a clear day. I was ecstatic loving to swim. Since Bojana didnât swim, Darko couldnât always accompany me to the beach so Iâd just walk to it myself for periodic swims throughout the day; August was a very hot month. Of any country Iâve visited, Serbia and Montenegro wins my top prize for fun, food, beauty and hospitality. Everyone is friendly, warm, the atmosphere is relaxed and laid back and most persons speak some English owing to children learning English as a second language in school at a young age. Unfortunately, American school children do not grow up learning another language other than native English which leaves them I feel at an intellectual disadvantage.
Each day Darko took us to another beach for a day enjoying food, drink, music, perhaps some shopping and primarily, swimming. As long as I could swim for hours each day I was happy. By the time nighttime rolled in all of us were so tired each day we usually had dinner and retired early, except for one night. This just happened to be the one night of my entire vacation I was overly exhausted wanting to retire early at any cost. Inversely, this was the one evening both Darko and Bojana incredibly excited informed me to take a shower, dress and get ready for a big surprise.
When I asked Darko what this surprise was and its great importance being I was so tired; he merely insisted I go get ready for it. Darko was always very bossy in my estimation constantly telling us when to sleep, awakening Bojana and I up early, limiting our time before breakfast for dressing, blow drying our hair etc. which the two of us always complained about privately to each other. I always accepted this as part of his personality but this night it annoyed me to no end; I simply wanted sleep, surprise or not. As usual I gave into to Darkoâs demands by hurrying to my room, showering, changing, and preparing myself for a night out. If youâre a woman, you understand when you have a crush on someone as I did Darko, you usually give into his demands easily; so I did.
Upon changing, Dark and Bojana were waving me to hurry to the car; exhausted I got in and slammed the door. Less than ten minutes up the pitch black road Darko pulled the car over and we got out. Darko and Bojana said, âHurry Jill look down there.â At the bottom of the cliffs was the most beautiful city of lights Iâve ever seen. Darko said proudly, âthis is Budva Jill, thatâs where we are going.â It was many times more beautiful that Paris or Manhattan at night and situated in a valley about a mile and a half wide forcing the Montenegrin peninsula farther out. It was a remarkably amazing sight, Budva itself being lit up with a wide variety of bright lights surrounded by an aura of pitch black. By this time Bojana started complaining to Darko to move his car in more because someone may come around the sharp turn in the darkness sideswiping it. Darko never worried much about illegal parking or his speed limit owing to whenever getting pulled over, he just made manifest to the officer his huge governmental badge and they let him go; the badge was at least three times larger than the usual American police officer badge and was gold in color.
Darko became annoyed with Bojanaâs complaints so we returned to the car, got in and descended about five minutes down the treacherously dark road into Budva and parked. I couldnât believe it! It was like a dream, We walked down around Budva, Darko pointing out everything.
We stopped to have a drink at one of the many outdoor bar/caféâs and listened to the live entertainment while we sipped our drinks. Then I went to buy another bathing suit at a small shop when Darko told me to follow him and Bojana into the most amazing bar Iâve ever seen, anywhere in the world. The bar itself was actually a small island rocky island; to reach it one had to walk underground maybe a little less than one quarter mile. Upon entering the bar it had many levels; all outside surrounded by the roaring nighttime surf of the sea and live entertainment. I saw a few people illegally swimming and asked Darko if I could swim there too. He informed me the swimming was closed for the evening. We ordered drinks and sat there chilling for a while. On the walk back Darko showed me all the gambling casinos along the Riviera. It looked like anyone could get whatever they wanted in Budva if they had the correct amount of money with them. Montenegro was to me akin to a luxurious playground for the ultra rich, famous as well as infamous. We then walked back via way of the tunnel, stopped at a small outdoor restaurant all ordering a type of delicious pancake we enjoyed by dipping it in chocolate syrup and drove back to the hotel to get some rest.
The next day Darko took merely us to another gorgeous beach. It was reminiscent of Greece. The water was sapphire blue, clear and warm. The beach itself was not large, but completely hidden by huge rocky cliffs. The three of us took a kind of small craft about a quarter of a mile out into the Adriatic; Darko and I jumped in for a swim. Bojana was partially nude sunbathing at the time on the boat and since she was unable to swim, Darko teased her by stealing her clothes, pretending not to give them back to her. She immediately became upset demanding Darko return her clothes; Darko soon complied with her demands. Thereafter, we ended the day with lunch and drinks. The following day was one of my vacation high points. We visited the Ostrog monastery.
Driving to the Ostrog monastery was long, hot and boring. It lied somewhere deep beyond the Montenegrin coastline inland. We drove a long windy road without even so much as a store on it. After a couple of hours, Darko stopped for lunch at the only restaurant I noticed the entire trip. Youâd think it would be small being situated in the middle of what I considered, ânowhere.â However, this was not the case.
There was actually a long line and tons of people there having lunch. I could only imagine like us they were on their way to visit Ostrog. The restaurant itself was classy and I can only liken it to seeing a luxurious restaurant in the middle of the Mohave desert. While I was visiting Ostrog monastery in Montenegro, Darko introduced me to a Serbian priest asking me if I wanted confession. The man looked almost verbatim to Karadzic in his monks getup. I mean the way the latest news photos of Karadzic in his monk getup looks. I only became cognizant of this recently since the photos of him since his arrest have been made publicly manifest. In particular I remember the priestâs large darker curl on the top of this priestâs head like in the recent Karadzic photos; I wondered who would make their monks hair like that. This priest blessed me and told Darko in Serbian he could not hear my confession owing to his not understanding English well. He gave me a gift, a book about the monastery itself which I gave to Archbishop John LoBue in West Milford (my priest).
While visiting Ostrog, we venerated the holy relics leaving an offering of either food or money at the door leading to the holy relics; I canât remember which now. Leaving, we looked around the gift shop, had coffee at the small Ostrog monastery café and Darko gave me a tour where the monks sleep and shower. Then we made the long drive back to the hotel. We had the usual dinner at which time Bojana was overcome with a terrible toothache. I told her Iâd pay for the filling tomorrow; Darko knew a dentist 10 meter from Kosovoâs border. Tomorrow weâd swim there and have Bojanaâs tooth looked at. The town we went to the next day possessed an ethnic Albanian majority and organized crime was everywhere.
Before retiring for the evening I went for a small walk around the corner from the hotel to buy some snacks; there was a small store there. I never felt endangered at any time by anyone. During my stay in Montenegro I walked to the store myself almost daily buying drinks and other items I could enjoy privately in my room at night. I never noticed previously to that eveningâs walk just how many persons actually were vacationing from Western Europe in Budva the fall 2002 like me.
After promenading to the store, upon returning to the hotel, a German man sitting outside the hotel and speaking in broken English introduced himself. When I told him that I was from New Jersey in the United States he became extremely interested and warmly said he is pleased I was able to enjoy the area. I replied, âI was tired and needed to retire.â Saying he understood he returned to his card game.
We had the usual dinner at which time Bojana was overcome with a terrible toothache. I told her Iâd pay for the filling tomorrow; Darko knew a dentist ten meters from Kosovoâs border. Tomorrow weâd swim there and have Bojanaâs tooth looked at. The town we went to the next day possessed an ethnic Albanian majority and organized crime was everywhere.
We awoke early as to get Bojana to the dentist. This is actually where the Montenegrin bank had refused to exchange our money for Euros. Managing cash was difficult in Serbia and Montenegro owing to that the national currency in Serbia was still dinars and in Montenegro it was Euros. Most businessman preferred either Euros or American dollars, but one never knew which.
Upon parking, Darko led the way down the busy street towards the dentist who I remember being an ethnic Albanian man. Apparently, they visited this dentist previously and he was extremely friendly. Not at any time did any ethnic Albanians cause me, Darko or Bojana any problems because I was American and they were Serb. The dentist was going to take a while and since the bank would not exchange our American dollars for Euros, we could buy neither lunch nor anything else and we all possessed a ravenous hunger for lunch.
Ignoring Darkoâs warnings not to go wondering myself, I left the dentist office under the pretense of going for a walk while Bojana had her dental work completed. Before Darko could catch me I was gone. I walked up the main street about one mile and began asking people in English where I could exchange United States currency for Euros. I came upon a well dressed ethnic Albanian high school student, a girl speaking perfect English who told me to walk up the street about another half mile and when I see men selling the cigarettes outside on a bridge table, ask them to do the deed; I did.
The girl asked me about America saying her greatest wish was to study in New York City one day. When I told her about my experience at the New School for Social Research, being dismissed for my anti NATO views on the Kosovo war she replied to me, âmaybe she was wrong about wanting to study in Manhattan.â
I made my way to the table with about five ethnic Albanian men hanging about selling cigarettes and asked them in English if they could exchange money for me; they did. They were definitely organized crime. They took my wet cash, examined the bills, one man walked into an apartment building with my cash while I merely waited. He didnât rob me and returned with my Euros. Surprisingly, I found everyone in both Serbia and Montenegro very honorable in their business dealings; even if those dealings are organized crime.
Upon receiving my Euros from the men, I walked away back to see if Bojana was through with the dentist; she was. I excitedly told Darko that I had successfully managed to exchange American dollars for Euros thinking heâd be pleased with me; he wasnât. Darko was always very protective of me. Instead of commending me he immediately got very angry; scolding me he said exchanging money illegally in the streets of Montenegro was both illegal and dangerous. You canât change the past so I diplomatically apologized and Darko soon forgot his anger I lieu of the fact that now we all could have lunch. Afterward, Darko brought us to a beautiful beach nearby. The majority of the sunbathers were ethnic Albanian and again no one harassed us based on our ethnicity. I tried pushing Darko into driving into Kosovo but he flatly refused. I found it interesting that the international news at this time was reporting that there were hundreds of thousands of homeless ethnic Albanians being ethnically cleansed to Albania, I did not see one ethnic Albanian or Roma homeless on the streets anywhere. All seemed normal only ten meters from the Kosovo border. After a day of swimming and partially nude sunbathing, we returned to the hotel.
Insofar as sequence of events, at this junction in time it was the last few days I spent in Montenegro; itâs difficult now to remember the exact timeline of events. In other words, I remember visiting Old Town and Podgorica also in Montenegro but uncertain of which locations we visited first. During the last two days, Darko took me one day to Old Town in Montenegro for dinner; there we greatly enjoyed an expensive seafood meal after which we walked around. Darko got a parking ticket that night in Old Town and greatly complained about its five dollar fee; for some, five dollars is equal to an entire week pay in Serbia. I think I offered him the five dollars for the ticket feeling guilty because it was only for my benefit he parked there at all. Darko wanted to show me Old Town; he already knew what the beautiful cobble stone streets looked like.
We also went to the Montenegrin capital, Podgorica. I really donât remember much of Podgorica except for walking around the streets one night. Since we didnât swim there so it wasnât a high point for me. When our ten day stay in Montenegro was finished we all packed and returned the way we came in Darkoâs car. The day before we left, Darkoâs car required maintenance. We didnât have enough cash on hand left to pay for the needed repairs so I called Arnold Stark, my fiancée in the states, asking him to please wire us five hundred dollars cash to Montenegro; he did. This is a fact that Arnold himself can verify being that he alone possesses the charge card receipt for wiring us the money through Western Union to a town not far from Budva. With Darkoâs car repairs complete, we returned home for Beograd.
On the way back to Beograd we made two more important stops. One was Hercegovni where we met up with Darkoâs cousin, a soon to be freshman college student and her friends. We had a couple of drinks, snapped some photos and Darko and I went for a quick swim in the sea. When it began to rain, we called it a day. The other stop was somewhere on the way back, where I have no idea. We pulled up to a large lake. Darko pulled his car onto a large ferry boat. There were some people on the ferry, but primarily soldiers from the Serbian military. Reaching the other side we drove around but I canât remember much.
Returning on the ferry, we piled into Darkoâs car and appeared at his apartment several hours later. We were all extremely exhausted and passed out as soon as possible in our separate rooms. Again, we walked past the same old men sitting in front of Darkoâs apartment building seeming to do nothing; they waved at us.
There were only two days left of my vacation at this point; I didnât feel like doing much of anything. Iâd come down with terrible stomach symptoms that began in Budva several days prior. This was probably owing to my ignoring Darko and Bojanaâs warning not to drink tap water but only b Posted 06/04/2009 6:58 PMReply