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For almost a century, Serbian players have been leaving their mark on the French league, bringing with them a touch of class, determination, and the rigor so characteristic of the Balkans. From the elegant Ivan Bek in the 1930s to the commanding Nemanja Matić at Olympique Lyonnais today, the history of Ligue 1 has also been written in Cyrillic. France, a country that has long opened its doors to talents from Belgrade, Novi Sad, and Niš, has welcomed a wide variety of players: from formidable goalkeepers such as Ivan Ćurković to creative midfielders like Dragan Stojković “Piksi,” and prolific strikers such as Danijel Ljuboja and Mateja Kežman. Every era has had its Serbian ambassador, its scout in finely sharpened boots. Today, the tradition continues with players such as Nemanja Matić in Lyon, as well as Montpellier’s Nikola Maksimović and the young Stefan Džodić, who each, in their own way, embody the enduring bond between Serbian football and Ligue 1. Looking back at these journeys reveals a story of achievement, hope, and legacy. FOOTBALL 2009-2010 Ligue 1 Kezman Crédit: AFP Dragan Stojković — Olympique de Marseille (1990–1994) Nicknamed “Piksi,” Dragan Stojković is regarded as one of the finest technicians ever to emerge from the Balkans. Arriving at Marseille during the Tapie era, his time at the club was hampered by injuries, yet every appearance at the Vélodrome offered a glimpse of his exceptional talent. ➡️ League appearances: 32➡️ Goals: 5 Vision, pinpoint passing, and rare elegance: Piksi remains remembered as an artist with the ball at his feet. Mateja Kežman — Paris Saint-Germain F.C. (2008–2010) Presented as a major attacking reinforcement for Paris, the former PSV and Chelsea striker arrived at PSG in 2008 with a strong European reputation. ➡️ Appearances in all competitions: 53➡️ Goals: 10 Although he never managed to establish himself as an undisputed starter, Kežman displayed determination and left the impression of a professional and a seasoned European player. Ivan Bek — FC Sète (1932–1935) An outstanding centre-forward, Ivan Bek was one of the first Serbian players to make his mark in France. Arriving in the 1930s, he quickly became a key figure at FC Site, helping the club secure a historic league and cup double in 1934. Danijel Ljuboja — FC Sochaux-Montbéliard, RC Strasbourg Alsace, Paris Saint-Germain F.C., OGC Nice, Grenoble Foot and RC Lens (1998–2011) A true journeyman of Ligue 1, Danijel Ljuboja left his mark on several French clubs. ➡️ Ligue 1 appearances: 215➡️ Goals: 45 A striker of an unconventional style, both powerful and technically gifted, Ljuboja became a consistent goalscorer and a player who relished the spectacular—a faithful embodiment of the idea of beautiful football. Serbian Athletes in Ligue 1 Today Today, four players bring a Serbian touch to the pitches of Ligue 1, each in their own way: experience, discipline, youth, and potential. Nemanja Matić is the true metronome of Olympique Lyonnais’s midfield, bringing composure and control to the game. Đorđe Petrović has become an almost impassable barrier for RC Strasbourg Alsace, recording an impressive number of saves. Nikola Maksimović brings valuable experience to the defence of Montpellier HSC, although injuries have hampered his progress. Stefan Džodić represents one of the club’s brightest young prospects, even if he is still gaining experience at the highest level. Four different paths, yet the same fighting spirit and an ever-growing Serbian influence on French football. Nemanja Matić — Olympique Lyonnais (since January 2024) Arriving in Lyon in January 2024 from Stade Rennais F.C. for €2.6 million, Nemanja Matić quickly brought stability to the midfield. He played a key role in the team’s remarkable turnaround, helping transform a side that had been at the bottom of the table into one that secured European qualification. In just over a season, he made 50 appearances in all competitions, once again demonstrating his leadership, composure, and tactical intelligence. Đorđe Petrović — RC Strasbourg Alsace (since 2024) Arriving on loan from Chelsea F.C. in 2024, Đorđe Petrović quickly established himself as a key player for Strasbourg. Standing at 1.94 metres, he commands his penalty area and has posted impressive statistics, including a remarkable number of clean sheets and an outstanding save percentage. His consistency, composure, and commanding presence have made him one of the standout goalkeepers in Ligue 1 and a central figure in Strasbourg’s ambitions. Stefan Džodić — Montpellier HSC (since 2024) Young defender Stefan Džodić was promoted to the first team during the 2024–25 season. Although he received a red card against Olympique de Marseille, he remains an important long-term prospect for the club. Still at the beginning of his professional journey, Džodić embodies Montpellier’s faith in youth development and represents one of the promising new faces of Serbian football in Ligue 1. Nikola Maksimović — Montpellier HSC (since October 2024) Experienced centre-back Nikola Maksimović strengthened Montpellier’s defence in October 2024. He made seven appearances before suffering a serious injury that ruled him out for the remainder of the season. Despite this setback, Maksimović’s experience and leadership remain valuable assets for the club, and his arrival underlined Montpellier’s ambition to add solidity and composure to its back line.

Film director of Serbian origin, Emir Kusturica is one of the few filmmakers in the world to have won two Palme d’Or awards at the Cannes Film Festival. With his baroque, unruly universe infused with satire, he embodies a distinctive vision of Yugoslav cinema: an art of excess, carnivalesque tragedy, and politically engaged burlesque expression. His career has made him an unexpected bridge between the Balkans and Western Europe. 1985: “When Father Was Away On Business“, Childhood in the Heart of Totalitarianism International recognition came in 1985 with the film When Father Was Away on Business (Otac na službenom putu), a work based on a screenplay by writer Abdulah Sidran. The film immerses itself in 1950s Yugoslavia, during the Tito era, where a man is sent to a labor camp after criticizing the regime. The story is told through the eyes of his son, a child who is at once naive and observant, and who becomes a quiet witness to political repression. Through this child’s perspective, Kusturica approaches dictatorship with remarkable subtlety, free of ideological heaviness, blending emotion with critical distance. The jury of the Cannes Film Festival, then chaired by Miloš Forman, awarded it the Palme d’Or. Deeply Yugoslav in its cultural context, the film simultaneously achieves universality. 1995: “Underground“, War As a Tragic Farce Ten years later, in 1995, Kusturica returned to Cannes with an ambitious project: Underground. The film follows, through the surreal adventures of two friends, fifty years of Yugoslav history, from the Second World War to the bloody conflicts of the 1990s. A baroque and sprawling work, on the edge of chaos, Underground is at once a historical chronicle and a sharp political fable. Set to the explosive music of Goran Bregović, the film blends absurdity and epic grandeur, provoking both admiration and controversy, particularly for its provocative reading of recent history. Despite the debates, the Cannes jury awarded it a second Palme d’Or. Kusturica thus became a cultural figure of former Yugoslavia, at the heart of post-war identity tensions. After Kusturica: Serbian Cinema Between Resistance and Renewal Although Kusturica remains the most internationally recognized figure of Serbian cinema in Cannes, other directors have continued to bring Balkan reality to the global stage. Želimir Žilnik, a pioneer of the “Black Wave” movement, has been developing since the 1960s a radical form of documentary filmmaking that explores the social and political margins of Yugoslavia. Srđan Dragojević, with Pretty Village, Pretty Flame (1996), offers a provocative and direct portrayal of the Bosnian war, blending black humor with sharp social critique. Directors such as Stefan Arsenijević and Bojan Vuletić, representatives of the New Serbian Cinema, regularly participate in European festivals. Their contemporary works, often marked by absurdity, disillusionment, and social critique, testify to a deep lucidity. Although their presence in Cannes is more discreet, these filmmakers continue the tradition of demanding cinema, rooted in reality and far from stereotypes. Creation Between Memory and Politics The dual recognition of Emir Kusturica does not represent only an individual success. It symbolizes the breakthrough of Balkan cinema onto the world stage. Through his colorful and allegorical films, Kusturica has shown that art can express what politics can no longer afford to, offering the world a unique, unsettling, and necessary reading of the history of a nation in disintegration.      Sources: https://www.festival-cannes.com/ Photo: Par Victor Dmitriev — Travail personnel, CC BY-SA 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=7430935 https://fr.wikipedia.org/wiki/Emir_Kusturica

A CIOFF Evening Celebrating Tradition and Friendship Among Nations Author’s Note — This article does not seek to explain everything. Its purpose is, above all, to awaken a desire: the desire to rediscover traditional dances, to attend a performance, to support folklore ensembles and, for those of us who belong to it, to proudly represent Serbian culture. Prnjavor (Mačva, Serbia), 8 August 2025 — At the Cultural Centre of Prnjavor, the stage became, if only for one evening, a crossroads of traditions. Colourful costumes, infectious rhythms, and glances filled with understanding made the entire hall breathe in unison. About CIOFF CIOFF (the International Council of Organizations of Folklore Festivals and Folk Arts) brings together festivals, ensembles, and enthusiasts of traditional culture with the aim of preserving, promoting, and transmitting the world’s folk traditions. Its hallmark is fostering encounters through the performing arts, grounded in respect for cultural identities and a desire to share humanity’s cultural heritage. The Hall That Brings People Together The performance was held indoors, on a stage set in an almost theatrical atmosphere: precise entrances, carefully designed lighting, and flawlessly choreographed transitions. The overall impression? An exceptionally well-organised event that showcased both the performers and the folk traditions that they represented in the best possible way. Đenka, the host of the evening    Special recognition belongs to Đenka, the host and true thread connecting the entire programme. Dressed in different costumes—sometimes in the colours of Serbia, at other times as a tribute to the guest countries—he introduced each ensemble, paid tribute to the performers, and effortlessly won over the audience with his sense of rhythm and subtle humour. Every one of his appearances was accompanied by the right words, and every conclusion by a sincere smile. The Ensembles: The Highlights of the Evening The Argentine Ensemble: The Heartbeat of Unity    A warm, almost familial energy. One can feel a dialogue between generations, a heritage of movement constantly being reimagined. The stamping of heels seems to call out to the audience—and the audience responds. This circle of exchange leaves behind a smile that lingers long after the performance has ended. Russia – Pure Lines, Breath Suspended    Youthful energy, upright posture, and remarkable precision of movement. The lifts and acrobatic elements approach gymnastic virtuosity without ever losing their folk musicality. Several moments left the audience breathless, followed by resounding applause. Cyprus – The Art of Balance Here, elegance lies in the details: carefully used props, measured entrances, and understated exits from the stage. A choreography in which every pause matters and the collective takes precedence over individual display. One island, one soul. France (Brittany) – Salt of the Wind    Tightly knit circles, joined hands, and a rhythm that enchants. Brittany explains nothing—it simply draws you into the dance. One finds oneself unconsciously following the beat, as if carried away by an inner ball. Republika Srpska – Pride and Precision Impeccable lines, precise accents, and exemplary discipline. It is precisely this union of order and joy that gives great ensembles their brilliance: harmony as a promise, and traditional costume as a celebration. Serbia – Home and Roots Whenever Serbian ensembles take to the stage, the atmosphere in the hall changes. There is the power of the rhythm, the joy of the circles (kola) forming, and the confidence of steps passed down through generations. It is our home, yet open to all—Serbian hospitality expressed through music and dance. A Moment in Tribute to Serbia The highlight of the evening came at the moment when each ensemble performed a motif of the Serbian kolo, integrating it into its own choreographic language. This variation on the theme of the kolo served as a tribute to the host country: respect for tradition paired with the freedom of interpretation. Unity in diversity — the spirit of CIOFF in action.   Why does this matter (for FYSE)? For the Federation of Young Serbs of Europe, this event represents a bridge: between young people across Europe, between family heritage and the contemporary stage, between the Serbia we carry within us and the curiosity we cultivate. Tradition is not a museum exhibit—it comes alive when it is danced, and it is passed on when we invite others into the kolo. Thank you Thank you to CIOFF for the invitation and trust. Thank you to the Cultural Centre of Prnjavor for their warm and attentive hospitality. Thank you to all the ensembles for their generosity. And, above all, thank you to Đenka — your ability to present, connect, and honour both artists and audience gave rhythm to the entire evening.   The kolo – in short Kolo is a Serbian folk dance performed in a circle or chain, with dancers holding hands and repeating steps that require exceptional rhythmic precision. There are numerous regional variations. Its strength lies in its apparent simplicity and its ability to bring people together. Stefan Mijailović, 19 November 2025

On the occasion of the publication of Simona Dmitrović’s poetry collection “Osim šumskog požara” (“Except for the Forest Fire”), jointly published by the publishing houses Slavitid and PLAN B, Zacharie Zaoui, holder of a Master’s degree (MEGEN) from the Sorbonne, has written a review of this work. We invite you to discover it below.

Imagine this: you are standing in a Parisian studio, surrounded by canvases that are yet to become part of the history of Serbian art. Or you are sitting at the very table where Serbian rulers once negotiated the fate of a small Balkan state, at a moment when Europe itself was changing its face. This is not a tourist story about Paris. This is a story about what Paris does to a person who approaches it with an open heart — and closed eyes. A ruler who, in France, encountered European ideas of freedom and modern society, while another built diplomatic ties with Paris at a time when Europe itself was changing its face. We will also speak of a ruler who did not love power, but rather the luxury of Paris and its artistic scene. At the same time, in Parisian studios and galleries, another kind of history is being written. An artist who discovers modern art and brings a new energy to Serbian painting. A painter who finds inspiration in Montparnasse and creates works under the influence of the Parisian avant-garde. There is also the enigmatic young collector who, in Paris, works alongside some of the most important names in modern art and builds one of the most fascinating collections of his time. And, of course, the most renowned Serbian painter, who understood how Paris perceives elegance, prestige, and the image of society. The lecture will be held in collaboration with Kulturni HIR on 4 June in Paris.   This is not a lecture.This is an encounter with stories that have waited to be told. Резервишите своје место

Stefan Zdravković, known as Princ od Vranja (Prince of Vranje), is a Serbian singer born in 1993 in Vranje. He has lived in Belgrade since childhood, and in addition to singing, he also plays the guitar and drums. Before fully dedicating himself to music, he was a Serbian karate champion and vice-champion, and even a member of the national team. He began engaging with music at the age of 15, forming a band called Šesta žica (Sixth String) with friends from high school. At the same time, he studied philology at the University of Belgrade, specializing in Scandinavian languages and literature, particularly Norwegian. Since 2016, he has been the lead singer of the band Sizip. In 2020, he played the title role in the musical Jesus Christ Superstar, produced by the Cultural Center of the Student City of the University of Belgrade. He has also participated in numerous music festivals, including Slavianski Bazaar in Belarus, as well as various events in Bulgaria, Kazakhstan, Lithuania, Italy, and Spain. In 2021, he competed in The Voice of Bulgaria, where he impressed the judges but was eliminated before the final. Еurovision 2025 – Serbia Shines, Even Without Reaching the Final This year, Princ od Vranja touched the hearts of Serbs with his song “Mila,” which won the competition Pesma za Evroviziju 2025. Unfortunately, Serbia did not qualify from the semi-final—marking the first time since 2017 that it failed to reach the final. And yet… Serbia had not had the final say yet! Victory came from a different angle: Teya (Teodora Špirić), an Austrian artist of Serbian descent, was one of the co-writers of the song “Wasted Love,” which brought JJ and Austria the Eurovision 2025 trophy. Between the emotions on stage and triumph behind the scenes, Serbia left a real mark this year. No final—but pride intact. Sources:  https://fr.wikipedia.org/wiki/Princ_od_Vranje https://n1info.rs/magazin/showbiz/zbog-cega-je-glasanje-na-ovogodisnjoj-evroviziji-bilo-zanimljivo/ https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eoSCoV9s2ak https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7h8yw_9bCV8&list=RDEMleViyZ7nXxvsowEeNoHrMA&start_radio=1 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=18BCbtvDcag

In the great lottery of European destinations, few manage to draw Serbia on their first try. It does not possess the mythical beaches of the Mediterranean, nor the world-renowned museums of major capitals. Yet it is one of those places that does not try to appeal to everyone — and that is precisely what makes it irresistibly authentic. In Serbia, you are not laid out a red carpet; instead, you are offered a chair, a glass of rakija is poured, and the evening begins. Serbia is a land of embraced contrasts, a wondrous blend of Ottoman heritage, Slavic spirit, Balkan imagination, and post-socialist rawness. It is a territory where history still echoes within its walls, yet where contemporary life unfolds with almost defiant energy. One must go there to understand it — or rather, to feel it. For Serbia is not a backdrop to be observed, but an atmosphere to be lived. Everything most often begins in Belgrade, the capital. If one had to assign it a single adjective, it would likely be: untamed. Belgrade does not strive to be liked at first glance. It is raw, sometimes rough, yet undeniably magnetic. At its heart, the Kalemegdan Fortress has for centuries watched over the confluence of the Danube and Sava rivers, offering a panorama that is at once majestic and uncanny, suspended between military past and romantic encounters. Around it, the city pulses — between austere buildings, bohemian streets, and bars that resemble artistic refuges. When night falls, Belgrade transforms into one of the liveliest capitals in Europe. Here, nightlife is not entertainment — it is discipline. Floating clubs, the so-called splavovi, lined along the Danube, offer music ranging from underground techno to Balkan pop, with the inevitable turbo-folk — a local genre that fuses traditional instruments, electronic rhythms, and emotionally charged lyrics. An incomprehensible mix? Absolutely. But remarkably effective. Yet to reduce Serbia to Belgrade alone would be an injustice. For once you move beyond the capital’s outskirts, the country reveals an entirely different side — abundant nature, a living rural culture, and a way of life that seems to have escaped the modern world’s rush. The mountains of western Serbia, particularly within the Tara and Kopaonik national parks, offer breathtaking landscapes: deep forests, crystal-clear rivers, gentle peaks, and valleys filled with villages where time appears to stand still. There one encounters flocks of sheep, wooden houses, and women in floral aprons offering you hot soup or homemade rakija, with few questions asked. In these rural regions, Serbia’s gastronomic soul finds its fullest expression. Forget vegan diets: here, the table is a sacred place, and always a generous one. Grilled meats, stuffed peppers, cheese pies, pickled vegetables, homemade jams… every dish carries a fragment of history, every recipe a tradition proudly passed down through generations. Bread is baked in a family oven, milk comes from the neighbor’s cow, and rakija is never far away. Toasts are not made out of formality, but to strengthen a moment, a meeting, a life. Yet what truly gives Serbia its distinctive character are its people. Serbs are much like their land: proud, direct, full of contradictions and a profound sense of humanity. Their hospitality is not a service, but a fundamental principle. Informality arrives instantly, conversations are vivid, and irony is a powerful tool of communication. They will debate politics with passion, defend their cuisine as if it were a matter of national identity, and speak of their village as though it were the center of the world — and for them, it often is. Serbs do not try to be liked; they simply are who they are. And perhaps that is precisely what makes them so compelling: the way they combine humor and melancholy, tenderness and roughness, pride and a clear-eyed awareness of reality. A people shaped by history, yet not imprisoned by it. A people who know how to laugh, sing, argue, and above all — share. Traveling through Serbia, it quickly becomes clear that this country is not merely a destination: it is an encounter. An encounter with places, but also with a way of being. Nothing here is entirely planned, everything can happen — and therein lies the charm. One comes to discover, and stays to feel. So, if you are looking for a country that does not rely on easy glamour, but instead offers something real, powerful, and alive… Serbia is waiting. Unembellished, but open-hearted.   Tanja Nikolić, 17 June 2025.

Dear members of our community in France and throughout the diaspora, There are moments in life when, no matter where we were born or where we live today, we are brought back to what we carry deep within us—our roots. Serbia is not defined only by its borders, but by all of us who carry it in our hearts, in our language, in our families, and in the memories and dreams that we pass on to future generations. As a Serbian woman born in Paris and raised between two cultures, I have always known where I belong. My love for Serbia was nurtured through stories, traditions, music, holidays, and the values that were instilled in me from childhood. That is precisely why, for me, participating in the Miss Serbia 2026 pageant is much more than a competition—it is an honor, a source of pride, and a responsibility. The Miss Serbia 2026 Final will take place on 8 February 2026 at 9:00 p.m., with a live broadcast on Red TV. For those who will be in Belgrade, it would be a tremendous honor to see you in person at the MTS Hall, where together we can show that the diaspora and the homeland truly breathe as one. Tickets are available at: 👉 https://www.mtsdvorana.rs/dogadjaj/miss-world-serbia-2026 This is not only my journey—it is the story of a young generation in the diaspora that has not forgotten its roots. It is the story of a young woman who wishes to show that Serbia can be loved and cherished no matter where we were born. That our flag is carried in our hearts, and that our identity is preserved with pride. If you would like to support me, please vote for me – Contestant No. 9, Tanja Nikolić ❤️ Your vote is more than just a sign of support—it is a symbol that the diaspora stands with Serbia, that we believe in one another, and that together we can bring the crown home. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for every vote, every message, and every kind thought. May our bond be seen, heard, and felt—because Serbia lives wherever we are. 🇷🇸✨   Tanja Nikolić, 6 February 2026

The Magic of Belgrade – Momo Kapor The book every Serb must bring with them when they leave Serbia. I know—the title has taken you by surprise. As it should. That is precisely the feeling you experience when you first pick up Momo Kapor and plunge into the opening pages of his work. It happened to me on a February morning, when I came across The Magic of Belgrade on the shelves of the Sorbonne library and, almost by chance, began to read it. It awakened in me that familiar feeling I despise, the one that overcomes me time and again whenever I take off from Belgrade Airport toward that accursed West: the anguish, the pain, the tightening of the chest—all those emotions that we who seek a utopia in Western society feel each time we leave our homeland behind. You know the feeling yourselves; I need not remind you of those turbulent moments of parting. Momo Kapor will do so in my stead, more eloquently and more beautifully than I ever could. One of the most significant chroniclers of Belgrade—and indeed of all Serbia and the Serbian mentality—Kapor writes about something that extends far beyond the geographical boundaries of the Republic of Serbia and the region. Belgrade is, in fact, Serbia in miniature: a city to which people from all corners of the Serbian lands have always come, bringing with them their accents, mentalities, and habits, blending them into that unique Belgrade mixture. Momo Kapor himself belongs to that kind: an eccentric who came to Belgrade, a true Belgrader by choice, of the sort this city has always abounded in. And it is precisely from this dual position, as both observer and participant, that he succeeds in laying bare the Belgrade man to his very core. In my deepest conviction, Kapor is above all a chronicler of the Serbian mentality in its broadest sense. I say this on the basis of my own experience: I found myself on ninety percent of the pages of this book, despite having almost no connection to Belgrade beyond occasional visits. Just as the author himself once said—and as we all know—Belgrade is one great village, which is to say: Serbia. What particularly reveals the greatness of this writer is his constant walk along the thin line between patriotism and chauvinism, and the fact that he never once stumbles into the kind of praise that reeks of cheap sentimentality. This sense of measure is perhaps owed to his Herzegovinian side, much as it was in the case of Dučić and others who gave Serbia some of its most powerful voices precisely from that slightly displaced perspective. Why, then, is this book essential reading for every Serb who leaves Serbia? Because Kapor ultimately answers the question we all carry within us, no matter how hard we try to suppress it. Why, every single day, regardless of all we have achieved and everything we once hoped for, we have the feeling that something is missing. That we are incomplete. That there is one final piece absent from the puzzle, the piece that would complete the perfect mosaic of life in the West. Kapor offers us possible answers, and he does so with a lightness that hurts more than any philosophical debate. Perhaps it is the smell of sauerkraut that greets you the moment you step into your apartment building. Perhaps it is the bench where you kissed a girl for the first time. Perhaps it is that tavern in Skadarlija where you first got drunk and, paradoxically, first felt perfectly at home. These are all the little things we never take into account when we pack our suitcases and leave forever for a place where none of them exist, and where, only then, those very same trifles begin to haunt us like the loveliest of ghosts. For, with that characteristically subtle and gentlemanly finesse of his, Kapor has left us a gallery of characters we shall mourn forever: those cosmopolitan Belgraders, native sons of the city who, when you meet them in Paris or Geneva, themselves no longer know how to reconcile what they once were with what they have become. I often speak of them with my friends, because that type of person—elegant beyond place and time—exists only among “Beogradjani” and nowhere else. Kapor portrays them in several chapters that, to me, are among the most vivid in the book: The Belgrade Flea Market, with all its virtues that the native Belgrader nevertheless despises, because nothing there is as perfectly ordered as in his father’s apartment on Mackenzie Street; but also in the chapter titled Return to the Homeland, where coming back to one’s country becomes the most intimate and cruel mirror of the self, the naked truth. Then there are chapters such as A Belgrader in Switzerland, In the Great World, and Belgrade Is the World, which together form an unwritten map of the Serbian soul scattered across foreign meridians. Yet this book is not indispensable only to those who have already left. It is equally necessary for every Serb who has ever entertained the thought of leaving but has not yet taken that step. Every time that they feel that they have had enough of everything, let them pick it up and read only a few chapters; they will understand why Serbia is not a country like any other, why it is a place that exists nowhere else in the world. And there is one more group for whom this book is simply essential: foreigners who wish to understand the Serbian mentality to its very core, who wish finally to grasp why they are so fascinated by us whenever they meet us somewhere in the world. From Alaska to New Zealand, everyone who comes to Serbia leaves pleasantly surprised. When we ask them why, we ourselves do not know how to answer, and together we remain puzzled by that little miracle. Well then, to both them and to us, Momo Kapor offers