If Tolstoy and Dostoyevsky put all their efforts together they wouldn't be able to create such a character as Milan is. All the forrest of Siberia and all the squid from the oceans wouldn't be enough to provide a paper and ink necessary for such a task. Presenting such an interesting character may put me in the top of the world's most precious literature all along with these two masters of writing.
Milan's Curriculum Vitae is full of degrees from the most prestigious schools in management: Switzerland, Paris, Singapore which resulted working for one of the most famous consulting companies. That is only a professional side of Milan. "Every day" Milan is either late, or makes it the last minute. He visited more than ninety countries in the world and there's not a single one where he didn't forget or loose something valuable. In case he doesn't drop his belongings on the street, somebody will rob him, for sure. He came to Cuba with no cash at all and he just went to the Serbian Consulate to get the money from Consul as if they were long life palls. When he sent his mother to pay back the money on the certain address in Belgrade it turned out to be the address of the famous Serbian actor Velimir Bata Zivojinovic who was a Consul's father. In Brazil, he was distracted by some guys who stole all his valuables with some business documents at the hotel reception. In China, he hooked up with some girls and he spent a half of day with them in a pleasant conversation but at the very end he needed to pay a hundred dollars for one cup of tea. In Africa, locals needed to cut the grass because he had lost his camera with some very important photos. In Bahamas, our tour was delayed because he left his bating suite on the balcony and the wind blew it away.
But, no matter what happens, he just keeps going and he always gets his things done, nothing ever slows him down.
I just can't imagine him surviving in very competitive world of his profession, where there's no room for hot blooded creatures.
Milan comes from my hometown where he met my husband over thirty years ago and they have never lost the contact. It is only a week difference in their birth dates and probably Zodiac or who knows what keeps them together. I don't know how I would define their relationship, but I can assure you, it is complex. They are more then friends, cousins, or brothers. They would spend hours and hours talking on the phone, no matter which side of the world they are or the time zone. Subject of their "small" talk is always related to the neighborhood where they grew up, local soccer team and the life philosophy that they are very fond of. In my opinion, it is just a dull person business. When I hear them talking on the phone I just leave the apartment immediately.
Milan was my guest for so many times since I moved to America. All my husband's friends are my friends and I was glad to host all of them, especially Milan. I tried to make him feel like at home every time he stopped by. He showed up regardless we had other guests or not. There was a time when he slept with me and my husband in the bed. I felt uncomfortable in my apartment and I freaked out because Milan couldn't realize that it was not very good moment to stay. I needed to tell him that he needed to leave which was a very unpleasant situation for both of us. Milan had left and I didn't see him for a while.
After some time out of America, Milan came back, you can guess where... It was all right to accommodate him for some time but Milan felt again very comfortable at my place. He was so comfortable that during his business conversation he turned off the fridge and he forgot to turn it back on. When he wanted to make something to eat, he spilled the lentil all over my kitchen and I still keep finding it. I would came back from work and I would find a chaos in the apartment while my husband and Milan like two spoiled teenagers were just laying on the sofa listening the music. I was struggling with two Leos and I needed an iron hand of Stalin to hold them under control.
Milan finally moved to his apartment with his girlfriend but he took my cooking pot with him without letting me know. I spent days looking for it when my husband told me that Milan had taken it. I was pissed off, but the fact that he finally moved away made me happy. It didn't last for a long time when Milan came back again to my apartment because his girlfriend had her family visiting NYC and there was no room for Milan in HIS apartment. Milan was supposed to stay a day or two but he had brought in his suitcase and I realized that he would stay for a while. I recently got rid of him and he was coming back again. I really had enough and I told to my husband that I didn't want roommates anymore. My husband didn't want to let Milan go, so I kicked them both out. My husband came back but Milan didn't.
Since then, the situation between me and Milan has been intense just like the political situation between America and Russia.
Now, on this trip my husband wanted to take me to Moscow. He's been there two times already and I knew that this visit is not about me seeing Russia but him seeing his friend, cousin, brother.... I got a chance to pay Milan back for all my suffering and I had some ideas how to do it. But, instead I decided to relax and enjoy Moscow and Milan's hospitality. He lives near station Beloruskaya which is on the circling line of the metro system. That line was added when Stalin, according to anecdote, put his cup of coffee on the already designed scheme in front of him. That is exactly how I imagine that Milan is getting his business done, with some spilled milk or coffee.
Milan greeted me with a warm hug and he greeted my husband with a warm kiss. I just rolled my eyes and two of them started laughing. We become a gang again.
It is not a coincidence of Milan's choice to live in Russia. This country is made of the opposite sides: cross and star, art and ideology, iron and gold, just like two sides of Milan.
He took us to Lenin's Mausoleum on the Red Square, the only place he didn't visit before. While the whole Moscow was walking slowly scared of waking up Vladimir Ilych Ulyanov, Milan was running like a crazy to get there on time leading two of us. We came in just a minute before closing. It was so Milan...
It was a weekend and people were spending the time outside by the river Moskva having a dinner, or dancing salsa. Parking place in front of Lomonosov University was packed. People inside of their cars were smoking hookah and drinking vodka. Milan said that he had never seen so many people having fun out of bars and we came to a conclusion that it might be an effect of the actual economic crisis in Russia.
When we reached Gorky Park, Milan told me that he is getting enough of Moscow and he is waiting for the wind of change. Even if his blond hair and blue eyes are perfectly matched a description of a Russian, his spirit doesn't match a conservative spirit of a province that is overflowing this metropolis. We met a group of Serbian actors who came here to play a soccer game and Milan spotted a son of his favorite soccer player and get into a friendly talk with him. Everywhere else but in Russia it would be a strange concept of artist playing soccer. Milan is very passionate about soccer and he made a site of all stadiums around the world that he has visited. Of course, somehow he lost the navigation of his site at one moment and of course, he has found it after a while. That is exactly how we called a night, watching a final game of Champion League with Milan's friend. It was not the way I wanted to spend my time in Russia but I have to admit that it wasn't so bad. When it got a little bit boring for me I fell a sleep and I woke up again for the penalty shoots at the end of the game.
I told to Milan I wouldn't leave Moscow without eating caviar so we went to supermarket to get it. I wanted to eat specifically black caviar but my wallet told me that this time only red caviar would be on my plate. Caviar is held under the key in the supermarket and I almost broke the door trying to open it. In front of the supermarket, Milan dropped his wallet. After several minutes he went back to pick up his wallet which was patiently waiting for him.
Breakfast was as pleasant as my staying in Moscow with Milan. After all, he is really a good person, ready to help anytime. He will never say something he doesn't mean. He is so different from people his profession and that is what I like about him. His work is not all he has in his life so all this recklessness is probably necessary for keeping some emotions that are not allowed in business. So far, I realized it is only me complaining about him. Milan has never complained about me. He accepts people the way they are. If you ever meet him, you'll recognize him because there's only one Milan I'm writing about.
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