We had Mexican food our first night in Belgrade. We thought we might go to the same place again if we do not find anything else tonight. On our way there, we walked across a park that looked a little rough. On the edge of the park, there were two stalls selling burgers. The popular one had about eight young men waiting in line. Other than the two men leaning against the door and the cashier lady, everyone looked South Indian/Middle Eastern. We saw pieces of chicken, burger patties, and pita bread on the grill. One of the Caucasian men nodded as if to encourage me to stand in line.
Kenric didn’t seem interested, so we kept walking. I gave him the side eye. He said, “Tell me what you’re thinking”. “Tell ME what you’re thinking.” “Did you want that food? I thought we were going to the Mexican place.” “Yes, but we were also open to eating other things, but that’s not why you didn’t want that food.”
Most of you know Kenric is an introvert, is very reserved, and does not like change. Believe it or not, this trip is his idea and life-long dream. He was uncomfortable because he hates being in unfamiliar situations; and he has practically zero experience eating from a stall in the corner of the park when it’s getting dark.
“If that’s what you want, let’s go back.”
Get Out of Your Comfort Zone
I was going to just go to the Mexican place, but I couldn’t. One of his main goals in life is to get out of his comfort zone, and learn about other people in the world. Not that I encourage taking unnecessary risks, but that corner of the park looks OK; the people were just buying and selling food. I wouldn’t be a good girlfriend if I didn’t let him have this new experience. Besides, that’s what I wanted for dinner. So, I turned to go back to the stall.
When we got in line, the Caucasian man smiled. We heard, “My friend, you speak English?! Come, let me know what you want!” It was the cook. He motioned us to get closer with his tong. I had no clue what to order. “What do you recommend?” “Everything is good.” “What’s your favorite?” “This one, but it’s spicy.” “OK, I’ll have that.” “It is very good. Last one!” He threw the last burger patty that was sitting in some marinade loaded with hot pepper flakes onto the grill.
“If you were to recommend one more thing, what would you recommend?”, Kenric asked. The cook pointed at my patty, “This is the best, it’s what I eat, but no more, last one. I have this one, but it’s just meat, not spicy.” His face told us he wouldn’t recommend the only other patty left. He asked Kenric, “What you want? Chicken? Spicy?” “Anything.” He went to the fridge, grabbed a ball of meat, made a hole in the middle, added onion and spices, and flattened it for the grill.
A Refugee
“Where are you from?” “San Francisco, America”, Kenric replied. I added, “Originally, I was from Malaysia.” “I’m from Pakistan. Islamabad. I’m a refugee here. Serbians are very good to me. Now I have a job, and I speak Serbian. My boss is very good to me.”
He was busy, and there were other people in line, so we didn’t chat more. I grabbed two bottles of beer. One of the Caucasian men opened one before I could say they were for takeaway, so we stayed to eat. The cashier lady asked what we wanted on our burgers. “Everything. Spicy please.” Kenric asked for, “Everything.”
“Seven hundred fifty.” That’s about USD $7.50. The cook immediately said something to her, but the lady pointed to the two beers, and the cook nodded. He said, “I thought she charged you extra!” Kenric gave her a 1000 Dinar bill, and gestured that we’re all set. She confirmed we were serious, and was happy about the tip. Two beers and two big burgers, I’d say we can splurge on a $2.50 tip.
He Watched as We Took Our First Bite
The cook came out for a smoke, but we were still taking pictures of the burgers. He was watching as we took our first bite. Damn, it’s good. We both said, “It’s very good” with our mouths full. The cook was very happy. He said, “Thank you.” He was especially proud that what he made for Kenric was greatly appreciated.
I asked how long he’s been here. “Two years. Most of us are refugees here. When I first came, I talked to every shop, no one gave me work. Then, I worked at another shop; every day for two hours carrying things, tables. I worked there for two months, and someone asked my boss to hire me, so I work here now. Alhamdulillah (Praise be to God). I like it. I work sixteen hours, but I like it. He trusts me. My boss can go home and sleep now.”
Sold Out
Someone called out to him, “Khalil!” We continued to gorge down the burgers. A customer came and bought the last burger. Everyone who came afterwards was turned away. Disappointed, they walked to the other stall. Khalil started closing the stall. A friend visited, Khalil had his arm around him, and said that’s his brother. I didn’t see the resemblance at all so I asked, “He’s your real brother?” The other guys said, “I’m from Afghanistan.” Khalil said, “I’m from Pakistan, he’s from Afghanistan, but we are brothers in the heart. No need to talk about what country we’re from.” Everyone nodded.
Pljeskavica
When we were done eating, Khalil was counting the cash. We threw our trash into the bin right outside the window and I called, “Khalil!” He was surprised that I knew his name. I asked him what it was we ate. He came out and pointed at “Gurmanska Pljeskavica” and “Punjena Pljeskavica” (Gourmet Burger and Stuffed Burger) on the menu sign. We thanked him again for the good food. I waved and said, “Salam.” “Waalaikumsalam!” Just as we walked away, a guy approached the stall and called out, “Hey, Pakistan!” “Hey!” Kenric and I burst into laughter.
P.S. Kenric reminded me that he’s not only an introvert, he’s an anti-social introvert. And this anti-social introvert is really glad that we went back to the stall. He wants to go back for more because he really liked the burger, the people, the atmosphere, and the price!
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