Posted on Wednesday, 7 May 2014

Igor drove me and the two Russian girls to the community centre in Novi Bečej. This old building would serve as operations centre for the voluntary project. It was just metres from the wide, slow-moving River Tisa – a body of water that would figure a great deal in our time in this Serbian town.

I was introduced to a Frenchman, an Italian girl and a girl from the Ukraine. These, added to the two Russians and myself, brought the team up to six – surely more than enough to create a mural?

Igor introduced us to our team leader, Sladja – the Serbian woman who would orchestrate all our efforts.

Lingual Friction

The subject of learning languages soon came up and, perhaps rather predictably, the Frenchman weighed in with 'British people never learn foreign languages' swipe. I was delighted that for once I had a decent retort: I pointed out that despite the several nationalities present, only English was being spoken at this precise moment – and so what would be the point in learning another language?

Not the greatest excuse for being monolingual, but it would do.

Despite the language skirmish, I liked the Frenchman – and indeed all the team members – a great deal. We were introduced to the family we would be lodging with, who in turn introduced us to the local 'cava' – or vodka – made variously from cherries, apples or berries.

The social aspect of the project would, it soon became clear, be the central focus of the entire trip.

A Slow Creative Process

The following morning we convened in the community centre to set down ideas for the mural, but after around two hours of lacklustre progress, Sladja decided we needed to take the afternoon off. We all headed over to the river bank. Here we chatted or swam in the weed-filled River Tisa, as the 30 degree June sunshine flared down on us.

River Tisa, Serbia

A Field Trip

The next day we were invited by a farmer to enjoy a horse-drawn ride in his field. This time we drank the local beer and chatted with numerous Serbian teenagers who were along for the ride and were keen to practice their English.

Peering out across the fields, I was amazed by how large the vegetables grew, as well as how tall the crops rose; this was prize-winning stuff.

Ancient Catholic Church of Arača

As the dipping sun cast the fields in a pleasant orange glow, we stopped briefly to explore the old ruined Catholic church of Arača (Aracs), built around 1230.

Soon night fell and we could observe a stunning blanket of stars above us, as the old horses pulled us back towards town.

Over the next days these social occasions continued. And each day we would make some half-hearted development plans for the mural - before heading to the river for a swim. Volunteering was certainly very rewarding, but not in the way I had imagined.

Igor Has a Word

However, one day Igor, who spoke little English, attended our morning meeting, where he made clear, with Sladja translating, that we hadn't made enough progress with designing the mural: we only had a week to go before the Novi Bečej Festival started, he barked in Serbian, and we hadn't even finalised a design yet. So this was what an angry Serb looked like.

Not Going Swimmingly

At this, Sladja insisted our afternoon swim was postponed until almost sunset – and so we set to work on completing the mural design.

Flag Weaving Exercise

After a few discarded ideas, I came up with a design focussing on interweaving elongated flags – with a flag for each of our nationalities. In the absence of any better ideas, we went with this - and by sundown we had the image ready.

Legless at a Hungarian Wedding

That evening we were invited to a Hungarian wedding celebration, which was like no wedding I had ever attended. The drink flowed freely, virtually everyone was standing on the tables dancing, except myself, that was, since I have a genuine fear of moving my arms and legs around for no apparent reason. Still, I enjoyed chatting to the inebriated Hungarians whilst getting rather inebriated myself.

Hungarian Wedding (salajean/Bigstock.com)

Hungarian Wedding (salajean/Bigstock.com)

Mural of International Understanding

In the morning we rose groggily, remembering that we had to start painting the mural. Sladja corralled us into the community centre, gave us paint and brushes, then led us to the wall that would bear our 'mural of international understanding'.

With seven brushes working furiously, the mural took shape quickly, but the hot afternoon sun soon slowed us down, exacerbating our hangovers.

Igor's Little Helpers

But we had a few days left. As the Novi Bečej Festival approached, we completed the mural ahead of time - and it looked pretty good! However, we weren't allowed to go swimming on the remaining days – as we all wanted to: Igor obtained a minibus from somewhere and drove us around the local towns, as well as to the city of Novi Sad, making us distribute leaflets advertising the forthcoming festival.

Finally the festival began. The small town was swarming with people from across the Balkans: Hungarians, Croatians and locals. Numerous famous bands attended – famous that was, in Hungary, Croatia, or Serbia. I had never heard of any of them!

But I still enjoyed it. It was almost like being famous, as people shook my hand and practiced their English with me. The evenings were filled with cava and beer. I even attended a fish soup competition, during which I was interviewed by a local Serbian TV station alongside the Frenchman; no one has ever cared so much about my views on fish soup before or since.

Towards the end of the festival, a small ceremony presided over by Novi Bečej's mayor took place to unveil our mural. I wasn't sure if the design would foster international understanding in any profound way, but this particular international group certainly understood each other well enough.

It was time for another dip in the River Tisa.

For information of this year's festivals in Novi Bečej, click on the following link: https://www.novibecej.travel/dogadjaji/17/vikendi/

No English version is available, so click ‘translate' if using the Chrome browser.

My notions of what a voluntary project would be were turned on their head the next day

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