Lightening the mood

My friend Jane called Saturday (12/1) to ask if I was as sad and dislocated as my blog sounds. What? I attributed my lack of attention to the projet we are trying to hatch at CIN but she has prompted me to do a mood check and work on my blog.

Friday night a bunch of ex-pats went to the Phoenix, a cozy little British pub in Kovaci on a hill above a huge cemetery. We ate chicken curry drank beer and regaled each other with Balkan humor.

My favorites:

Four astronauts land on the moon. An American, a German and two Serbs.

The American jumps out and plants a flag on the surface exclaming that US derring-do and money made their mission possible so the moon will belong to America.

The German pulled out the flag and stuck in a flag from his country proclaiming that it was German scientific knowledge and technological precision that made the landing possible, so the moon was Germany's.

One of the Serbs reached into his pocket and pulled out not a flag but a gun and he shot the other Serb. Then he proclaimed: "Serbian blood has been spilled here, so the moon will be Serbian now forever."

(explanatory note for Mom: In the 14th century Serbs died in a battle in Kosovo and now Serbs still claim ownership of that province even though it's like 98 percent Albanian.)


A Frenchman, a Cuban, a Bosnian and an American are stranded in a lifeboat fighting to survive after their ship has gone down. They are trying to show bravado in the middle of a bad situation.

The Frenchman pops open a bottle of French wine he's saved from their sinking sink, takes a few sips and throws the bottle into the sea. "In Paris when we arrive, we'll find many more!" he says.

The Cuban pulls a big cigar out of his pocket, takes a few puffs and likewise tosses it overboard. "In Havanna" he says, "We'll find many more!"

The Bosnian threw the American overboard.

(Mom, Bosnians are sick of all the international aid wokers in their country telling them what they should do.)



Three men die on Christmas Eve, an Englishman, an Italian and a Bosnian, and they all go to hell where the Devil tells them they are in luck because the next day is a holiday and so they will be allowed to call home.

The Englishman, because this is a Bosnian joke has no family or friends, so he calls his dominatrix and for 40 hours they talk dirty sex. When he hangs up the Devil says, "That'll be 60 Euros." The Englishman protests, "Hey, I thought it was a holiday!" The Devil tells him, "It is, but that doesn't mean you don't have to pay."

The Italian then calls -- of course -- his mother and he talks to her for more than hour about the family, life, cooking. When he hangs up the Devil demans 130 Euros for the call, "What!" he protests, "You say we could call home." The Devil tells him, "Yeah, but I didn't say it was free. Pay up." So he does.

Then the Bosnian gets on the line, calls him home and talks to his mother, then his father, then his brothers and sisters, then all his cousins, then the aunts and uncles get on. He's on the phone for four hours.

When he's done, he hangs up and walks away. The Devil doesn't say a thing. The Englishman and the Italian are outraged. "That's no fair, what the hell?" they yell. "How come we have to pay and he doesn't."

The Devil looks at them and says, "He called Bosnia. From here it's a local call."


This one may need annotation:

Tarzan meets Mujo(common name in jokes for Bosnian character) and goes "Me Tarzan"

Mulio responds Ja Mujo (Bosnian for I'm Mujo)

Tarzan points to his wife and says, "Her Jane." Mujo points to his wife and says, Ona je Fata (common name in jokes for Bosnian female character)


Tarzan then points to his chimp and says, "Him Chita." Mujo points to his son Hasan (another common Bosnian name in jokes) and says "On nije Chita!"

punchline annotation: (In Bosnian this means he is not chita -- but the Bosnian word that means he reads sounds like Chita, so he's saying his kid, already compared to a chimp, is illiterate.)

What can I say. This is the famed black humor of the area.