BALKAN EXPRESS

The Bar-Bari Ferry Line

Summary: Everything on the ship is just like in Baletic's film with this title. Numerous film personalities and destinies. There are all kinds of them: white and dark, rich and poor, lost and found, happy, but most of all - sad. There are Montenegrins, Slovenians, Serbs, Croats, among them, most numerous are, of course, the Albanians. They are of various professions: smugglers, businessmen, idlers, workers on "forcible leave", journalists, politicians. All the protagonists are on the scene, waiting for shooting to begin. But, there is so much of it ashore that the sea, at least for the time being, appears perfectly safe.

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The first thing that strikes you when you approach the pier of the Bar Port is the anchored glorious and robust "Slovenian" whose front bears the name LABURNUM, and underneath the surname - LIMASOL written in red letters. The ship was, therefore, registered in Cyprus, according to the official version, its owner is "Some Indian from London", but it is a public secret that the Slovenians stand behind it, which the authorities from Podgorica dare not publicize, because their voters might experience it as a case of sinful conceiving (even if only economic) of their favourites with "seceded" dragons. I seek the Montenegrin "saint" (the ferryboat "Sveti Stefan" which sails on this line for 30 years already), but cannot see it. Only later, after I cross to the other, the Western side of the "Laburnum", "Sveti Stefan" comes in sight. It would have been better if it had not. Besides the "Slovenian", it looks like an orphan - small, shabby, dark, altogether, not fit to be taken by the "Laburnum" aboard even as a lifeboat. It may sound unpatriotic, but after this confrontation, I am happy that I will be sailing on the "Laburnum". A return ticket on the "Slovenian" costs 160 German marks, and on our "saint" 160 dinars, which is the same, if you accept Prime Ministrer Kontic's claim that there will be no inflation in the next year either (least of all in this). Out of this price, the leace-holder of the "Laburnum" paid to "Jugooceanija" from Bar until recently 20, and now it is paying as much as 30 per cent. In the "Jugooceanija" agency, we learn that the average number of passengers on the "Laburnum" is about 500 (capacity 1200), the ship sails three times a week, so all those who are interested may easily calculate the earnings either of the mysterious shipowner or the Bar maritime company. The ethnic composition of the passengers is also interesting - 80 per cent are the Albanians from Kosovo. An amiable clerk from the agency shows us the list for Sunday (December 4). It reads: Halimi, Buzoli, Rexhepi, Maliqi,... and only after about 250; Boskovic, Pasic, Radivojsa, and then, again... Limani, Berishaj, Kastrati... That night, 602 tickets were sold. Return tickets. But, "they dont's all return", they tell us at the agency. "Half of them pass the Italian customs and police, and they send a half back, for who knows what reasons." We learn that, in fact, the Albanians from Kosovo, running away from guaranteed human rights in the Republic of Serbia, use Italian abstention from introducing visas for the citizens of Montenegro and Serbia and, over the sea and the Appenines, try to reach Switzerland, Germany, and go even further, usually to the USA. Since October 17 until December 4, not counting the week when the ferryboat did not sail, about eight thousand passengers arrived at Bari from Bar. If about 80 per cent of them were from Kosovo, and if 60 per cent managed to break through the barrier of Italian police, then it is not hard to calculate how many people have left this space. Mathematics, demography, ethnic cleansing - all in one place, or, according to the slogan, "when there is a little of everything, there is something for each".

While we are waiting for the tickets in the "Prekookeanska" agency and watching the Montenegrins, Serbs, Albanians, Romanies, Italians (there were as many as four of them) who are crowding in a queue in front of the window, the Minister of the Exterior of Montenegro, Miodrag Lecic, arrives with his wife. We greet each other. We exchange a few words about the destiny of the Ministry he is still at the head of, he explains to me that he is going to Rome, but that he will remain at the head of the portfolio "until they choose a new one", we make arrangements for an interview for "Monitor" and... The Director of the "Prekookeanska", Dabanovic, arrives, with his deputy Kalomperovic, and some other "VIP"'s who simply surround and escort the high guest into their offices. The authorities are the authorities, even if they are represented by a not too a representative sample.

It is past 20.00 h, the time when the ship opens its deck, and we start towards the customs control. Going along the pier which is crowded with fishermen during the day, we see several parked buses and an unusual crowd around them. I approach and read the licence plates: PR 456-322. Men carrying cases and plastic bags, women, mostly with children, either carrying them in their arms or holding them by their hands. To the question whether they are going to Bari, they unwillingly knod their heads, but to the next question, why, most of them just drop their eyes and keep silent. One of them made so bold as to say "As tourists"! He is wearing a fur cap, carrying a little bundle in his hands, smoking cheap tobacco, clothes made in Vranje. One would say that he is anything but a tourist. At his demand, we get a statement from another, obviously more serious man: "We are going, seven of us, two of us small chidren. This is our third attempt to enter, I tidied myself up, shaved, if we do not succeed now, we never will". He confided in us that he intends to reach Germany with his family, and that his greatest problem is colour! Colour of his skin. He shows us his face - a Gypsy, there is no doubt about it. We confort him that the world is kind, that there is no more racism and discrimination, that President Lilic in person can confirm it (he visited South African Republic) and that, this time, they will certainly make it. Together with the brethren from Kosovo, we approach the customs house, where we are welcomed by the sign saying: Federal Republic of Yugoslavia - Customs". Au revoir, Montenegro. The interior of the customs building is very tidy, the policemen and the customs officers are quite up to their task, while the exterior of the building is still not finished. "With the duties they have introduced, they will finish it in no time", a man from Podgorica comments, whose shopping in Bar about twenty days ago ended quite tragically. "I paid 650 dinars for two bags", he says. Later on, on board the ship, we will hear a series of stories about how owners of shops, who need large quantities of commodities, get round to avoid high customs duties: we hear, some still go via Albania and Drach, and then by boats over the lake to Montenegro, the others send commodities by skimmers which smuggle tobacco, alcohol and drugs, while the third, sail by this boat, but put half of their goods on (the record is six pairs of jeans), hide half of it in their cars, and then "it is easy to pass".

We board the "Laburnum". By a counter below the deck, right at the entrance, two young and nice Slovenian girls welcome the passengers. On the other side, in a yellow uniform, one of the ship's workers, directs the vehicles and their parking. Again, in pure Croatian. They are answered, naturally and according to the Constitution, in Serbian, and with "No problem" but with a characteristic accent of the brethren from Kosovo. After we ascend a level or two, we enter an exclusive and comfortable space where, one after the other, are a restaurant, a duty free shop, passengers' cabins and seats. By the information counter, we run into a sturdy and smiling host (that is what those weighing over 100 kilos are all like), who later turned out to be from Portoroz and who does everything on the ship - from waiting at tables, to ironing clothes, offering help and giving information. He tells us that his salary at one of the Portroz hotels was about 1500 German marks, but the state took more than half of it. Here, on board this ship, he earns about 2000 US dollars, and gets it all, without taxes. It is true, he used to work six hours a day and six months a year in the hotel, and now he works "from 6 to 6", so it is just a matter of choice, whether you want to take it easy or earn a good deal of money. Both by his accent and by his stature, Pero reminds us more of a Dalmatian than of a Slovenian from the coast. We ask him what he thinks about the fact that the crew is Slovenian, with a couple of Croats (but, this just in strict confidence), that the passengers on board this ship are mostly Albanians, that there are Montenegrins, Serbs (from Montenegro, Serbia and Bosnia), that programs of RT Serbia are watched on a TV set, he just shruggs his shoulders and smiling says: "Balkan express"! Quite originally, one must say.

Both Pero and all the other members of the crew, headed by Captain Tomazin, stress that they think of this ship line as any other, professionally and not emotionally. The Captain took us on a tour of the ship, from the machine-room to the helm, described how the crew functions and gave us some data. For instance, the ship is about 20 million German marks worth, and in order to function with the balance around zero, it needs to sell at least 300 tickets. To the question for how much longer they will sail on this line, he shrugs his shoulders and adds that he does not know. "Business is excellent, we are all satisfied, both the passengers and we, and the "Prekookeanska" agency, so we shall see."

From the commander's bridge, we return to "our folks". The sea is exceptionally calm, you cannot even feel that the ship is moving, so that most of the passengers are asleep in their seats. Those who are more persistent, are still sitting at the bar, drinking, and watching a film on a video casette - "The Fugitive" with Harrison Ford. Pure symbolics. How many fugitives are there here: 50, 100, 150, 250, or 600?! On our return we will determine that at least 106 of them intended to flee, but they did not succeed. That is exactly how many the Italian police brought back to the ship, denying them entrance to Bari. The police stood on guard until the "Laburnum" started its engines, and then, "Adio". In a talk with some of the passengers, we hear various confessions, each one of them telling of one or more destinies, each one of them a different story. Brethren from Kosovo, perhaps out of fear, lack of trust, keep repeating the same story, that they are going, that they do not know whether they will pass, and that their aim is Western Europe or the USA. We meet a woman from Bar. She is sitting in front of the door to the duty free shop, and tells us that she is going to Naples to meet her husband, a seaman. "Due to the sanctions, we did not see each other for two years, because it was necessary to go via Budapest, and now, in two days, we will be togewther again". At the bar two men from Belgrade. They say that they have fashion shops and are going shopping, hoping that the customs will not "ruin" them on their return. There are two Bosnian Serbs who are, of course, in a militant mood. "Everything will be Serbian - all the way to Rome", one of them says in a "conquering" seizure. The other one is more realistic: "Now when Bihac falls, we will go on to take Tuzla, to reinforce the Corridor". Djuro and Ilija, that is what they are called, are truck drivers (I did not ask them how they are related to Vucurevic). They live in Switzerland and now they are returning from Bosnia where they drove humanitarian aid (blood plasma) for the Serbs in the so-called Bihac enclave. I provoke them asking them how can they stand so many Albanians on the ship, and they respond in unison: "They should all be killed without a trial". To the question why, they give a "logical" answer: "They are going to Ancona now, then they cross to Split from there and then they go on to Bosnia where they kill our brethren". There is obviously no end to madness.

Arrival at Bari is planned for about 7.00 a.m. About 6.30 already, a kind feminine voice informs the passengers about it in Slovenian, Croatian and Italian, and kindly asks the passengers to return the keys of their cabins. The problem with keys is obviously present, because the request is repeated every five minutes. "Balkan express", there is no doubt about it. This is especially evdent in the morning, when you walk around the ship and see trash and rubbish everywhere instead of the glamour that welcomed you. Cigarette boxes, cigarette butts, spilt liquid, beer cans, sweets, all sorts of things. We were warned not to enter the toilets. "Balkan, my Balkan..." Johny boy sang with melancholy.

After the crowd scattered, we meet Minister Lekic, as we agreed. Diplomatically restrained, not very talkative, a little tired of everything, too, he repeats his statement about his return, the significance of the Ministry, Montenegro... At that moment, the Consul of the "FRY" in Bari, Ljubisa Perovic, arrives. I give him three latest volumes of "Monitor" as a gift and call his attention to the interview with Vojo Stanic. We make arrangements to meet at the Consulate and talk at 13.00 h. Greetings with Lekic and

• we part.

With its sea, the sun, the surrounding countryside, olive trees, Bari is a typical Mediterranean town. Its architecture is somewhat atypical, Mussolini being the guilty party for it, although the citizens of Bari do not treat him as such, but rather express gratitude because their town developed the most, one could even say flourished, at the time of Ducce. For what we hear, the people are also specific according to their temperament and behavior, closer to the Orient than the West. There are no sanctions, so petrol is bought at petrol stations at the price of 1.7 German marks per litre. A large number of cars in the streets, mainly those for city use: Renaults, Fiat uno, Fiat 126, and there are even old Fiat 850. Shops, department stores, supermarkets are full, and the prices are lower than in our country. The average salary in this part of Italy, i.e. in the "poor South", is about 1500 marks, which is a significant drop in reference to some years ago. Unemployment is high, and the dissatisfaction with Berlusconi is growing. In a conversation with several owners of luxurious shops, we can hear words of welcome for the Montenegrins, sorrow for everything that has happened in former Yugoslavia, and hope that good old times will come back. Probably those when "Yuoslavs" used to leave about a million dollars a week in Bari. As concerning fashions, women are mostly dressed in cotton, in bright colours, while men are wearing suits, shirts with big collars and ties with wide knots.

At 13.00 h we arrive at the Consulate which is downtown Bari, at Piaza Moro. We climb to the third floor, and by the entrance we see a sign saying:The Consulate of the SFR of Yugoslavia". Tito's Yugoslavia is, therefore, still not dead - at least not in Bari. Later, Consul Perovic will reveal to us that that Yugoslavia still lives not only on that sign, but that it still happens that the Italian authorities send a Croat, a Bosnian or a Slovenian to have his problem solved at this Consulate. The reasons are, naturally, practical, not political. South of Rome, this is the only Consulate that has anything to do with one of the states of former Yugoslavia. We learn that he is one of the rare ones, if not the very first Montenegrin at this post, although it would have been logical, since Montenegro had always been interested the most for the Consulate in Bari. He is telling us that now after the sanctions have been lifted and the ferryboat line opened, there is plenty of work to do and the interest among the Italians is growing for investments primarily in Montenegro. The fact that the Italians were left aside in Albania which, it seems, the Americans and he Germans have taken for themselves, speaks in favour of this orientation towards Montenegro. Perovic tells us about plans in which the candidacy of Montenegro for Meditarranean Games plays a significant part. Bari has already won the candidacy for 1997 Games, and it will support Montenegrin candidacy for 2005 whole-heartedly. We end the conversation with a story about Bari: the city has more than half a million inhabitants, one of the largest ports in Italy, the authorities are a specific coalition, its citizens are mostly concerned about unemployment and the drop of the value of the lira at the moment, and they are happy about the success of the local football team which has just won a place in the first league and is already the fourth on the list.

After touring the old city which is, among other, known for various, usually quite fantastic stories about unsafety and gangs which will rob you the minute you step on their territory, we reach the port where the "Laburnum" is waiting for us. Customs control is routine and with no delay we arrive at the deck of the ship. The same hosts, smiling again, the stairs and we are back, among "our people". There are by far less passengers than when we arrived. We see Italian policemen - they are the ones who are guarding the "irregular" Albanians, the 106 of the already mentioned ones. We can hardly recognize anyone, they are mainly new faces. And, some people we know, proving the ancient Montenegrin saying that the world is small. Marko and Doctor Bato are returning from a visit to relatives in Milan. We find a certain Doctor, a dentist, Drecun with them, from Cetinje, who fled to Switzerland 26 years ago. A clever man (for having fled). When he is told who I am, he immediately replied: "I am a Montenegrin with five stars". Is there such a thing - I wonder, but say nothing. I am, in any case, pleasantly surprised, but not for long, because it turns out later that he is in fact, "first a Yugoslav, and then a Montenegrin". And what is even more interesting, he is a humanist who has nothing against this Yugoslavia made by Milosevic's hands. "What counts is that it is Yugoslavia, how ever small it may be", he says. The same old story.

We meet the crew again, Jura, Pero, Borut, Mojca... They are all smiling and pleasant, again, and the atmosphere is like home. All at once, the Captain comes agitated. He has his glasses on and carries a newspaper. He shows it to us, it is a photo-copy of the Ljubljana daily "Delo". He asks whether we know who Jokic is, we say we do, and then he rages. The reason is a text he reads to us in which the correspondent of "Delo", writing about prostitution, claims that "Laburnum" is one of the places where this business flourishes. The Captain is furious, the others are dumb-founded, and we - silent. Waiting until they get over it.

Tired of the journey, we go into the cabin, sorting out the impressions and going to bed. In the morning, about 6.30 h, the same voice greeting the passengers in Slovenian, Croat and Italian... We are back in Bar. This time, there is no crowd, we descend together with the others below the deck and in the same line, a Montenegrin, an Albanian, a Serb, a Slovenian, ideal for a photograph, we await for the deck to open and then dash - to be first at the customs. And then, up the hills, via Podgorica, and further on to Kosovo, Serbia... And that is the end of this story. "Balkan Express". Everything just like in the film directed by Baletic with this title, just like in the Balkans. Numerous film characters and destinies. There are all kinds of them: white and dark, rich and poor, lost and found, happy, but most of all sad. There are Montenegrins, and Serbs, and Slovenians and Croats among them, but most numerous are, of course, the Albanians. They are of different professions: smugglers, businessmen, idlers, workers on "forcible leave", journalists, politicians. All the protagonists are, therefore, on the scene, waiting only for the shooting to begin. But there is so much of it ashore that, the sea, at least for the time being, appears completely safe.

Zeljko IVANOVIC Nebojsa Redzic