Proof of payment

I went to Zagreb yesterday to drop off a companera at the airport. The Croats have this strange complex -- they claim to not be - in any way, shape or form - part of the Balkans. Most beg to differ...and as a Yugoslav intellectual once said 'god save us from Serbian pride and Croatian culture.' No culture on earth really needs to defend its value to society -- each and every culture, purely on their own and in their original form, are priceless. The Croats haven't figured that out yet -- and constantly need to negate and degrade other Balkan cultures as unworthy ones. By doing this they seem to think they are going to boost their own culture...which strikes me as such a balkan concept, doesn't it?! The apple never falls far from the tree.

I must say though that its a joy to drive in Croatia. Croatia built over 400 kilometers of beautiful highway over the span of 5 years. Bosnia and Herzegovina managed about 15 kilometres in that time. Oh well.

On the way back, though, I had two interesting encounters. The first one was at the border crossing between Slavonski Brod and Brod - which used to be both Bosanski Brod and then Srpski Brod, but we'll get to that later. The Croatian border officials were typically cold and uninterested. But when i got to the bosnian side, it all changed. Granted, it was a quite a bit more sloppy than the Croatian side...but i was greeted with a smile and as the border cop reviewed my shabby passport he engaged in exchanging common pleasantries with me. He even informed me that due to my age i was long overdue to get married and i should find a good Bosnian woman and do so immediately. I felt like i should pull over, find the first woman and run to the clerk of court for a marriage certificate. He was great.

A bit further down the road...as i was absorbing my re-entry into Bosnia amidst the stunning number of bombed out homes, i was pulled over by the police of Republika Srpska. One thing i truly love about the Balkans is that policeman, who can certainly at times be assholes, usually behave like humans. You can talk to them...get out of your car without a gun being pulled on you...and even argue if the mood is right.

Anyway, they say i was going 77 in a 50 zone. Close enough i guess, so i pleaded guilty. That always sends them for a loop. I admit it, i was speeding. They have no idea what to do now. They are so used to bullshit stories defending their ancient radar guns or why the person had to drive 160 kilometres an hour in a 40 zone. So in the end I said, just write me up partner, I'll pay my dues.

What i didn't know was that there has been yet another change in Bosnian law. Reform is great, but one needs a daily gazette just to keep up with all the changes. The new law, aimed at rooting out police corruption, issues you a ticket that you do not pay on the spot. Good law i say. I have to take some form with me and pay it at a certain bank -- a little inconvenient but i can deal with that too. I then found out that not only did i have to go and pay at a certain bank but that i am required to bring the proof of my payment, in person, all the way back to Brod - 300 kilometres away from where i live. And there is no other way to do it. Has anyone ever heard of computers? When i started laughing at the ridiculousness of it all both coppers were a bit defensive. But when i engaged them in a conversation about it they started to realize just how absurd it all is.

Fill out a form. Go to a specific bank to pay it. Get proof of that payment. And drive 300 kilometres to give you that proof. I prefer the bribing days and coffee money to get them to leave me alone. After a bit of giggling and 'what do we do now?', he instructed me to slow and down and hit the road.

Again, the beauty of Balkan police. I get off scott free, get to argue and laugh with a policeman...slag off the system with him as he wishes me a pleasant drive back to sarajevo and the only damage was missing my favourite song on the radio.

I sped all the way home, making the trip in record time.