NATO Street.

April 13th, 2009 § 3

I was happy to see the day was grey when I rose late this morning. I took my time to get out of bed and make a coffee. The hostel was quiet and empty bottles lay on every surface. I made myself a Turkish coffee and smoked a cigarette on the balcon. At 12, I started out to photograph the city.

My first destination was NATO street, as I call it. Perhaps Serbians call it the same way, I don’t know. Along a distance of 400 hundred meters you can find the American embassy, the Polish one, Croatian, Canadian and German. Also the bombed Police Headquarters and Central military headquarters. These two buildings were bombed in 1999 by NATO.

The American embassy looks like a bunker. The windows have been covered with steel sheets and cement. It is situated on a corner, and the perpendicular street to NATO street is barrackaded and cars need a special permit and security check to go through. The residents of the area are not very happy to have to go through this every time they return home.

Across from the bombed Police Headquarters is the new Police Headquarter. I wasn’t very welcome when I photographed the facade. A police officer ran towards me from his booth. I played stupid and walked away.

At the military headquarters I took some photos from the street. There is a wall made from metal panels so one can’t see at street level what is behind. I asked a military guard if there was any possibility to enter the building to photograph. He said I could only do it from the street. I wouldn’t give up that easy. I climbed a tree were the guard couldn’t see me, or I couldn’t see him. I made a shot and he pulled me down by the heel. He had told me it was not possible to photograph inside. I said I was sorry, and he told me I should delete the photo. Fortunately it was a film camera. Unfortunately he wanted to take me in and get the film. I once again said I was sorry and that I was a student from Argentina.

“Argentina!” he exclaimed, “Ok, but please don’t take photos inside the building.”

“I’m sorry.” I shook his hand and introduced myself properly.

We talked about politics. Kosovo was mentioned, America was mentioned. Chavez, Che Guevara, Hugo Morales and Fidel Castro. I asked Ivan if I could photograph him. He smiled, I could tell he was flattered, but he was doubtful about it. He said that if somebody saw this he would get in trouble. In the end he said I could photograph him from behind, only because I was from Argentina. I made him walk towards the wall and shot. All throughout, he looked worried that someone might see us. When it was over, we walked away in opposite directions.

It started raining. I went into a street restaurant to rest and have some food and write my diary. I spend one hour there until it stopped raining. A city’s tempo changes dramatically when it rains, I enjoyed seeing this happen for a short time. When it stopped the normal tempo was restored.


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