Friday, April 14, 2017

Consistency of the "Serbian Personality"

One of my favorite things about Serbia is the consistency of personality amongst Serbs; despite each being unique individuals with distinct backgrounds there remains a set of characteristics that I’ve noticed in almost every Serb I’ve come to know.

First is their sense of humor: Somehow dark and goofy at the same time, Serbian humor is nothing short of a gift and I continue to be caught off guard by it. Nothing is off limits and jokes are often made at Serbia’s expense, which can make for a surprise when your boss slips in some crude irony as you’re saying goodbye for the day. Regardless, its blunt nature only makes it all the more endearing. You can read a longer description here.

Next, I’ve noticed that Serbs love to laugh. They do so unabashedly and with gusto, unafraid to disrupt a restaurant or phone conversation, mostly because a cacophony of chuckles and roars rarely turns heads here. Much like Italians, Serbs seem to cherish their laughter, and endeavor to enjoy laughing with friends as a pastime; the european lifestyle of three-hour coffee dates is alive and well.

Along with the laughter, naturally, comes an overwhelming friendliness. There isn’t one concrete stereotype regarding Serbs (something I believe comes from a general ignorance of Serbian culture in the rest of the world- if you asked I’m not certain any of my friends could point to it on a map), but they are often assumed to be reserved or even cold in demeanor. In my experience, most Serbs are almost the complete opposite: the second you crack a smile they will too.

As a young woman living in a strange place I am endlessly grateful for Serbian hospitality; just about everybody gets greeted with three kisses to the cheeks, a wide smile, and an Italian-grandmother-esque offer of food (as I was in Požega last weekend).



The last trait I will attempt to describe, though there are many more, is the hierarchy of respect and natural chivalry exhibited by Serbian men. Another favorite “Serbianism”, if you will, is the unwavering, automatic instinct to offer assistance if it appears that someone needs it. On the trolley cars at least four or five people jump up from their seats if an older woman steps on; in New York everyone attempts to avoid standing by examining the floor as soon as someone who needs a seet steps on the train. A seat is only ever given up by the poor soul who failed to keep his eyes downcast long enough to be overlooked.

This kindness extends even further: A Serbian friend told me he often helps people carry their bags when he passes by the bus station, but since the station still uses bus tokens to get into the loading area he has had to pay the token fee on several occasions just to help people load their bags.

As someone born and raised in New York, with its special breed of manners, this is particularly strange and also incredibly refreshing.

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