NotesAugust 15, 2006 6:58 pm

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Thursday morning, the last day of Technical Recce, I didn’t wake up until someone knocked on my door. I jumped up from the bed, looked at my watch, 7 :15. I took care of everything including putting on contact lenses in 5 minutes then went downstairs to meet with everybody in front of the mini bus. We headed for the old part of the town.

It was raining. I was glad I broght my green raincoat with me. I didn’t mind missing the breakfast but I was weary of not having anything in my stomach. It might be the rain, everybody was sleepy. So we decided to stop by a gas station for an espresso. I usually don’t drink coffee, but special situation called for special resolution. I bought some cookies and ordered an espresso. That made my breakfast.

Most of the town was built on the hillside. The roads were small and oblique. Only small car the size of mini Austin could pass through. I then understood why most of the cars here were small tiny ones. Well, this was part of the reason, I supposed.

For a small town, Veles has taxies probably more than it needed. Taxies here and there, running through the narrow streets of Veles. The whole crew of 9 of us took 3 cabs into the town. The cabs carried us to where they could go. Then the street got too narrow for cars to pass, we had to get off and walk the rest of the way up.

The house on top of the hill was one of our locations. The art department built it. We had to climb up the hill, pass through trees and weeds and garbage and sheep droppings. The local kids were so happy to see us. They followed us everywhere. Even though I couldn’t say a word of Macedonian, I picked up my camera, used a finger to draw a half smile on my face, they all understood and fully cooperated.

On my way down the hill, I thought to myself, I should just relax and let go. I was probably too tense. Then something happened. First time in my life I learned how to blow air into my ear and poped the clog.  

That night, Gotze, a 22yo young man who worked as a draftsman in the production invited me to have a drink at where some of the folks in the art department stay.  There were 6 of them when I arrived. I didn’t know what was the occation, but everyone was drinking. Someone poured me beer in a plastic coke bottle that was cut in half. For a split second I wasn’t sure I was supposed to drink from that thing. Until everyone picked up their cups to toast. They all had the same cut-half water or coke bottle cup.

The place was rented by the production. A 2 room flat on the ground floor of a house. Anything could be a bed was a bed. Very much like how we lived back in the college. They started to play local pop music. The music sounded to me like Turkish mix Serbish. One of the song, they told me, was about mobile phone. Something like, I have a mobile phone, it cost me a fortune or something. Someone took out a microphone and plugged it into the amplifier and started Karaoke-ing. They said the landlord was so nice that one night at 3 o’clock they were drinking and banging guitar and singing, he came downstairs with a chair to see if they needed more seats.

In order to show me, Dimitrij picked up the guitar.

“Let’s make a song.” He said, “How do you say cheers in Chinese?”

“Gan-bei.” I replied.

“What about alcohol?”

I thought about it for a second, “Lei-jiu. That means strong alcohol.”

Then he immidiately heavy-metaled his guitar, “Gan-bei, Gan-bei, Gan-bei,— Lei-jiu.”

That must be the funniest Chinese rock-n-roll I’ve ever heard in my life. More over, his pronounciation was so accurate that I had no doubt the song was gonna be a hit.

When they found out I was living in New York, Vladimir went to play a song for me. It was Frank Sinatra’s, of course, “New York, New York.” He started singing. The other guy, Ljubisha, stood up and danced. Ljubisha had curly hair, slander face like Roberto Bernini’s. He looked Italian too. However, he told me, he had nothing to do with Italy.

He grabbed a black umbrella from behind the door and started impression-danced Frank Sinatra. I couldn’t stop laughing.

 

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NotesAugust 10, 2006 7:46 pm

My ears kept clogged for the following 4 days.

I couldn’t do anything about it. I couldn’t hear what people was saying. I heard my own voice muffled in my head. It was like I was living in a cave and in the mean time carrying the cave with me whereever I went.

The location Recce started and I was still adjusting my jet lag.  I would feel extremely tired around 3pm and sort of stop functioning. I had no idea it was legal to sport a 12-hour day from the pre-production on. Anyway, we had 4 days of final location scout and 2 of them were 12-hour days.

The way I took it was thinking of it as a group tour. We got on the bus every morning at 7am and then went over the locations around the town till the bus got back in front of the hotel at 7pm.  Just like sight-seeing group tours. It was kind of fun, we went to places usually people wouldn’t go. Not that there were a lot of tourists. And the hotel was not so grand.

The first day I checked in the hotel, I couldn’t wait to get wireless connection so I could IM my friend to complaint about the situation here.  This was nothing I had expected.  The carpet was molded and dusty, the bathroom smelled, the towels were wet, the matress made noises and the closet… I didn’t unpack, I am still living out of my luggage.

The second day I pulled my director friend aside and asked nicely, ‘Can’t you find a better hotel?’ Her answer was, ‘This is the only hotel that’s still working in Veles.’

The food was not so easy for me either. Almost everyday we ate in the restaurant. The appetizers were tomato salad, cucumber salad, tomato and cucumber salad, tomato cucumber and  cheese salad, greek salad.  For entree, grill chicken brochette, grill pork brochette,  grill chicken, grill pork, grill liver.  Everything was either salty or sour.

By the bedtime I asked my 1st A.D., what was the call time next morning.

 ‘Seven.’ he said.

 ‘O.K. I’ll ask them to morning-call me.’ I said.

‘Oh, there’s no phone in the room.’

‘Right.’ No wonder I felt something was missing.  There’s no TV, no light on the night stand, either.

Notes 9:58 am

When I boarded macedonian airline in Zurich, I instantly knew something was not quite right.

The only differece between business class and economy class was not the size of the seat but the material it was made of. The business class was made of leather while the economy class was of cloth. Again,  the idea of life is about quality but not quantity here. 

However, I was scared of the fact that this air craft was gonna have to carry me for almost 2 hours. I could still see clearly the trace of its communist past.

It was a rainy day in Zurich, cloudy and cold. Not long after we took off, the weather cleared up. The rest of the trip was sunny with lots of white cloud piling here and there toward the horizon. Looking down from the plane, I could see the enormous continent with its peculier landscape. I couldn’t put a finger on it, but the landscape was just so different from America’s. It seemed like  they speak in different languages. The America speaks in English and here the European landscape speaks European.  What rubbish. But for me this seemed to be the most suitable description.

The Balkans.

In my high school textbook, it was called the “Arsenal of the Mideast” . The textbook was so out of date that I never learned of a country called “Macedonia”.  Never in my dream had I dreamt of being in a place where the gypsy music and the sound of machine gun mix.

They made me walk out of the plane and walk over to the “international airport” building sans A.C.  And the flight arrival information was on a used 15-inch TV.  Nino was holding a sign with my name on it at the exit. I went up to him, shaked his hand and then he took me to his car the size of a mini Austin. We headed toward Titov Veles without much speaking. My ears were still clogged with the sudden change of the air pressure.

NotesAugust 7, 2006 8:21 am

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On Saturday I came out from my apartment at 3:15pm.

I knew I was late. But I still decided anyway to take the subway to Penn Station, LIRR to Jamaica then the AirTrain to JFK.

I like the AirTrain. Not only the view from the AirTrain is super nice but also it makes travel from manhattan to JFK a much convenient experience. I estimated it will take me an hour to get there.

I checked in at the Swiss airline counter at 4:30pm, got to the waiting area at 5:10. I had only 15 minutes before boarding to get myself a book at the Hudson News stand. By 7 o’clock I was in the sky above Atlantic ocean chasing the night that had already gently fallen over Europe.

The next morning I was in Zurich. There was 2 hours and a half before the next flight to Skopje.

Once I got to the Zurich airport I was surprised how nicely designed it was. There’re nicely seperated smoking lounges. Beautiful chairs that were paired up with check-in counters. There was no ugly signs here and there telling you what to do where to go. But instead the signs were integrated in the building itself. The escalator slowed down to save eletricity when nobody was using it. It speeded up when people approches. All in all, a triumph of minialism.

I was like a curious kid, took my time to check every corner out. Finally I sat there, thinking to myself. Gee, I forgot how the quality of life can be in Europe. It could be like, 10 times better than in America. I was in Europe once, so I knew. But then I think I got so used to Amerian life, which is unfortunately rather than ‘quality’ but ‘quantity’ of life.

 

 

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NotesJuly 27, 2006 5:59 pm

With one week left to the date I was scheduled to leave, it is almost impossible to find a decent priced ticket.

I searched online all day, most of the tickets I found are around $1050 to $1400. Including tax.

I can’t never understood why the last minute tickets are much more expansive than booking it far advance. The flight is going to take off anyway, if there are seats left empty, why don’t they just sell it cheaply?

I was desparate to find a dirt cheap ticket so I tried an Air Courier agency. This is to travel as a courier by giving up one’s baggage allowance for commercial postal companies.  It is said you can save up to 85% of the regular airline ticket price. First, I had to pay $40 for a membership to get to the database. When I did so and called them to ask about my trip,

"No, I am sorry Sir. We don’t have any courier flights to … the city you just mentioned." The guy on the other end of the phone said, with a heavy Indian accent.

"It’s Skopje, Macedonia." I said.

"Yes. No, Sir. We don’t have any flight going there." The guy could have been another Apu from Satyajit Ray’s movie who came to New York to try his luck.

"Thank you." I said, in the mean time planning on asking for a refund tomorrow.

I decided to try travel agencies. I called three of them and repeated the same questions.

"SKP, is it Macedone?" The girl asked.

"S-k-o-p-j-e, it’s Macedonia." I spelled.

"Oh, there’re very few people go there. Do you have a U.S. passport?"

"No. But I have alreay applied the visa."

Then it turned out the price was still higher than $1000. Even though the production might be able to pay for it, since it’s my friend’s movie, I would try my best to save some money for her.

Hopefully this issue will be resolved by tomorrow.

NotesJuly 26, 2006 12:22 am

The time is July 26th, 2006 12 o’clock midnight.

I have just 2 days ago confirmed my trip to Macedonia.

I will be working as a 2nd Assistant Director in my best friend’s second feature film.   

The current time in Macedonia is 6am in the morning. Exactly the same as Paris.

I’d start syncing my time with Skopje.

An unknown place, a faraway destination, a mysterious nation.

Bodering Byzantine.

 

Macedonia Time now.