Fear and Hope

For months, people waited in long lines for their interests, they were cold a little, tired a little, but they socialized. Coffee from thermoses was handed around, information about children's diseases and cheap stores was exchanged, new friendships were made, and perhaps someone even fell in love.

The situation has drastically changed now so that there appeared in the press a picture of a man beaten up by mommy Dafina's guards when he tried to complain. The thirty year old worker who, according to his own testimony, had been trying unsuccessfully for five days to get out his two thousand marks (created from the initial 500 DM deposited in March 1992) has understanding for the guards: "It is the hardest for them. It is only in these lines that one sees what kind of brutes we are. Pensioners are the worst - one tells them nicely that their appointment had been postponed, but it's no use, they keep pushing. And what is one to do with them?" "The atmosphere is charged, and this is the fault of those who spread rumors that Dafina has already fled and things like that," said a bearded young man from the line. "There are even some journalists among them." "See, that man deposited 6,000 DM, and he is waiting in a disciplined way just like we are," the first collocutor continues his favorite thesis pointing to someone in front, in the crowd. "In any case, I think the state will not allow Dafina to go down. This bank is preserving social peace and..."

The appearance of an elegant and visibly nervous young man with a list in his hand at the door interrupted "Vreme's" collocutor in the middle of his sentence. Masses of people suddenly rushed towards the entrance, and the bank's clerk avoided death by suffocation only thanks to a few of his colleagues who managed to repel the first attack using extensively the unique Serbian vocabulary (and even their fists). Interrupted by people shouting "louder," the clerk read a few names and managed to withdraw without any losses. The circle around the entrance loosened with a sound characteristic of football stadiums after a missed chance. "She'll flee too, if she already hasn't," said a middle-aged man angrily. His acquaintance bashfully tried to retain her optimism: "But she has real estate enough to pay out at least the capital sum." "So did Boss Jezda," came the crown argument. The disciplined worker returned, but, this time, the expression on his face was not so self-confident as it was fifteen minutes before: "This banks helps preserve social peace. The state will not let it go down. Will it?"