Diary of Uglješa Surdučki: I feel that freedom is approaching – Personal views

Friday, June 19

It is the fifth day that Kristina Demeter Filipčev is on hunger strike in front of the municipality of Bečej due to the authorities’ refusal to retroactively pay travel expenses for her disabled child. You come to her again and again, sit next to her and watch how outside the pillars of the building life goes on quite normally. I would say that Christina’s strike also went as usual, which means without an official response from the authorities about her demands. She gave up her hunger strike today, she says, at the persuasion of her husband, because her sons are finding it increasingly difficult to bear her absence. Before the strike ended, she said: “I don’t plan to die because of the Serbian Progressive Party.”

He packs up and goes to his home. I stay in the center of Bečej for a while, everything took over me, I didn’t even write the news that Kristina ended the strike. In the previous days, Iva Hromiš, the mother of a child with developmental disabilities, who previously gave up on the strike due to her health condition, fought alongside her.

Dad called me to tell me that he was coming to Novi Sad and that he would bring bacon. I was able to see some wonderful people that I don’t see that often anymore. We stayed up late.

Saturday, June 20

Since I currently have a little more than 200 dinars in my account, exactly 510 dinars in cash, I managed to get into the car that was going to Novi Sad. The financial crisis that hits me in the middle of every month is not that bad, I have to figure out the priorities and see how I will spend that money.

I finally arrive home, the sky and the earth are burning from the heat. I jokingly tell my roommate to be careful what she says, since I’m writing a diary, to which Daria (roommate) answers with the question: “How can I talk when I’m not there?” She is getting ready for the sea, she told me that she will send me photos. My first thought was like Cednikova’s: “Boban, the pictures from Dubrovnik are disgusting to you”.

I am leaving to report for the student media from the meeting in Novi Sad. The speeches were very strong, they talked about the media, the election process, the police and corruption. Professor Smiljana Milinkov’s speech gave me goosebumps on several occasions. In the fenced area intended for journalists, which we affectionately call the “press box”, we poured water on ourselves, but we didn’t get rid of the heat. People came from all over the world, and the atmosphere was a little different than at previous gatherings.

I notice that people are exhausted, that they have had enough, but they still came, to be there, to support the student movement, to hear what the speakers have to say, and I believe that, like me, they cannot resist the feeling that freedom is approaching. After the meeting, we went for a beer, visibly exhausted from the sun. At one point, David approaches to talk to Milica and Daria, that’s when I meet him.

Sunday, June 21

Dad didn’t come though, so no bacon. I get up, turn on the phone and see that David’s car has been vandalized. David, whom I met yesterday, the son of Dink Gruhonjić. It immediately dawned on me that he said he was going to Zagreb today. I only wrote to him a little later to check how they were doing.

I dared to turn back the TV and see what the pro-regime holy trinity – Informer, Pink and Prva – had prepared. The show was scheduled right at the time of the student rally in Novi Sad, and PredCednik turns on “by chance” when the official part of the rally begins. When I saw the first guest, I turned off the TV.

I open the bank application, waiting for my salary to arrive. I have exactly 52 dinars and 18 pairs in my account, but believe it or not, this month is easier to bear than the previous ones.

Monday, June 22

No, I definitely can’t stand the month any easier than usual, I can’t wait for the end of the month. I manage fantastically, I use up those foods that are in the fridge, which I normally avoid, and now the fridge is empty.

A gathering of support for the family of Dink Gruhonjić was held because his son David’s car was vandalized. I went to support him. There’s something said there that people would call a platitude, but it’s very true: “We must not retreat, we must not fear, for if we fear darkness will prevail, and if darkness prevails they will eat us in the darkness.” I hugged Dinka, tightly.

Everything that has been happening to Dinko for a long time is terrible, and his statement to Kompas made me even more upset when he said that the next logical step is for someone to kill him and that the only thing we can do is stand by each other.

I feel that they cannot intimidate him, therefore it is encouraging for us young journalists.

It’s starting to rain, I’m completely wet. The laundry that was drying on the clothesline also got wet, it is going to be washed again, the only problem is that there is only one laundry capsule left.

Tuesday, June 23

I have decided that Tuesday will be the day for decorating the living space. I found wings in the freezer, I baked bread, I had a good meal.

With each cleaning, the music starts playing, Az a szép, az a szép, ışelik a szeme kék, so the algorithm somehow got to Nadica Topčagić, then switched to Ki Klop and Duha in the closet.

I heard from my father, he asked me when I was going to the village. He also asked me how the university is going, but I tell him again and again that it is not going well and that I am waiting for the situation to normalize a little. I don’t go to lectures and exams. While ineligible professors lose their jobs, the police who stayed in that building several times and beat people, student elections that still haven’t been called, Filozofski has no signal in the building, the computers are from the last century, and the administration’s response to all of this is to purchase a humanoid robot to improve teaching. Harms would be envious of the events at the Faculty of Philosophy. A world of absurdity.

I am 20 years old, I don’t know in which direction I will build my academic career and if I will at all. Sometimes I have the impression that I’m just wasting time and money staying in Novi Sad, I feel humiliated, often worthless. I have an environment that supports me to continue my studies, but I cannot get over the scenes of September 5, when the police occupied the campus. I can’t behave normally while everything around me is falling apart, but the management is waiting for a humanoid robot, maybe Moravac will play for them.

Wednesday, June 24

This time I put the laundry in the dryer. I fell asleep in the living room, under the air conditioner, the couch was folded up, I don’t understand how I managed to fall asleep, but fine. The house is perfectly clean.

I have taken up a new topic that I will deal with regarding the dismissal of employees in the Provincial Government, because, as they claim, of supporting students. I get the number of the woman who got fired, I call her. He told me that a phantom department for shooting was formed and that some people, some families’ existence is threatened and the government doesn’t care.

They don’t care that mothers went on hunger strike in Bečej to get rights for their children with disabilities and developmental disabilities, they don’t care that they destroy other people’s property and endanger the safety of the whole family, and they don’t care if you do your job well. It’s an armchair, it’s good for them, and you farmers fight, work, eat Parisian, subsidy if there is.

They are still in an armchair, you are sitting on a spartan, you are in the sun in the dust of a field, the only difference I see in these comparisons is that you do your job to the end, honorably and honestly.

Thursday, June 25

Yesterday we went to karaoke, it’s now traditional, which means we stayed up late. I didn’t get up for the field to see off the protest in front of the Rectorate in Novi Sad, oops. Sorry Irena and Marko.

Two others are still sleeping, one is in the living room, the other in the bedroom, Ana has left, who knows when and who knows where. I have tons of messages and missed calls. From thanking me for putting my friend in touch with a professor, to Mima sending me a message that she won’t come to the protest in support of Vladimir Mihić because she got drunk, Dimitrije asks me about some kind of pig, missed calls from unknown numbers and a group called “Ugmaš”.

Soon I have to go into some backwater and not come out of there for at least a week. I would lie in a thick bed and eat watermelons.

I would even like a country estate, and a little physical work wouldn’t be out of place. Now my father would say that I have all that in my homeland. I miss my homeland a little, but it’s not like it used to be anymore, the feeling of a family home has been lost… Daria still hasn’t sent me a single photo from the sea.

The author is a student of the Faculty of Philosophy at the University of Novi Sad

The views of the authors in the Dialog column do not necessarily reflect the editorial policy of Danas.