Day 2: From farm fields to cities on the road to Novi Sad
The second day of our two-day journey began in the freezing cold, a stark contrast to the warmth we had felt the day before. The sun was shining but it was no match to the morning breeze. We all quickly got up, started packing up, and tore our tent down. Some more friends decided to join us from Indjija and offered to carry our bags with clothes in their parents’ car so they could wait for us in Novi Sad. After waiting for everyone to pack up we started our march further towards Novi Sad. Our first checkpoint was a village called Beska, where we would take a break and repeat what we had done the day before in front of the Police Academy – a 15-minute silence at 11:52 am to remember the victims of the Novi Sad tragedy.
After Beska, we were, once again, all alone on the road with nothing but farm fields to keep us company until we met an old shepherd with his sheep. A few people ran up to him, hugging him, and reaffirmed to Serbia, and the whole world, what we were fighting for. The picture of the shepherd waiving to students and them shouting back to him “See you in some better Serbia” was picked up by media and went around the country.[1] This encounter encouraged us even more to continue with the march and carry positivity and optimism in our hearts. During the rest of the march I was thinking: “this is what university should’ve looked like,” not in the sense that we shouldn’t have our lectures, but in the sense that all the students worked together. Together in cooperation with their professors, who have shown us nothing but support and kindness, as if we all became humans again, rather than mindless metal gears in the giant machinery that made us value grades and points over learning and interacting with others.
We soon enough arrived at our second stop – Cortanovci. There, we were welcomed by the locals with the, by now, usual food, drinks, pancakes etc. We all gathered in front of a church and got some rest there. The church wasn’t the biggest but it was one of the most beautiful structures I’ve ever laid my eyes upon. Its roofs were gold-plated, reflecting the Sun in a way I have never seen before, as if it was making a statement, reminding us that after days of bad weather, we were given a clear sunny sky to accompany us on our trip. The gold mixed with a shiny green material reflected the light onto the higher parts of the church’s walls, mimicking the crystal-clear, emerald-green water on the Aegean coast, while the faint smell of incense lingered in the fresh air.
After we left Cortanovci, with the golden reflections of the church still fresh in our minds, we felt a renewed strength. We still had a long way to go, but the beauty of the landscape motivated us to move forward. We only had one stop remaining – Sremski Karlovci. As Cortanovci was on a hill, we started descending, and we could see the beautiful white arches of Novi Sad’s famous bridge – Zezelj Bridge – in the distance. Morale was high; we couldn’t wait to reach our destination. The scenery all around us was breathtaking, we were enjoying the view of the hills and the distant skyline. After some delays, we arrived at Sremski Karlovci and couldn’t afford to stay there for long. That’s not to say that the people didn’t welcome us greatly. We basked in the warmth of the hugs and the cries of the people who wanted to use their moment, even if that moment was considerably shorter than we all had anticipated. After a quick break, we continued our march. Final destination: Novi Sad.
Reaching Novi Sad: Welcomed as heroes, finishing in silence
All the blisters, sore muscles, and kilometres walked led up to this. The sun has long left us to wander alone, seeing only the faint yellow lighting of the streetlights and the occasional train. Besides the dark, we were also greeted with steep terrain, which we had to overcome. Yet, nothing could stop the students’ march. We were, moving at lightning pace, determined to make up lost time. We hurtled down the not-so-long-ago hill and saw a sign that said “PETROVARADIN” – the easternmost part of Novi Sad. The ending had started to begin. Welcomed as heroes, everyone was there; people flooded the streets. This was the last part before we entered the centre and finally finished our walk. The atmosphere here was like no other; it had served as an overture into what we were going to experience in the centre of Novi Sad. Our hands were, once again, too full to carry the food we were given, so we had once again started giving it away to the children welcoming us with their parents. One notable thing I’d like to highlight is the fact that the kids were waving to us from their bedroom windows; we would then approach them and hand them boxes full of unopened candies. Grandmas and grandpas were also very much present on the streets. I recall one grandma handing me a bag filled with medicine and bandages for our sore legs.
At Petrovaradin Gate, just before the bridge that would take us straight into Novi Sad, we halted. In the distance, you could hear a person talking with a megaphone: “Here come the Belgraders!” the voice shouted from the other side of the river. As the words left the speaker’s mouth, a loud roar could be heard from our side. Before we continued, they had placed the red carpet in the middle of the bridge, where we exchanged Belgrades’ and Novi Sad’s university flags. After the ceremony, we quickly moved forward, making our presence known to everyone. The bridge is constructed in such a way that it has a small arch, but it’s big enough so you can’t see the other side of the bridge until you’re at its tallest point. After reaching the said point you could see thousands of people’s flashlights, illuminating the streets like a diamond would reflect its shine, as they seemingly appeared out of nowhere. As we were crossing the fittingly named Bridge of Freedom the crowd’s cheers and the sight of thousands of flashlights felt like a culmination of everything we had fought for – unity, kindness and love, which had carried us through every blister and sore muscle. People would swarm you from both sides of the road. We were given pancakes, flowers and medals. I remember a teary-eyed grandma telling me to wait and bow my head down, which I did. She then put two medals over my head and started thanking me. All the way back, from the beginning of the bridge, we were all given flowers, like soldiers coming back home from the war. Unlike the cold asphalt that shook under our mighty steps, the people’s hearts and smiles created a very warm atmosphere. Near the end of the bridge the people made a narrow passage, where, at best, two people could simultaneously go through, thus making sure that no one gets lost in the masses, and that everyone gets their “personalized” thank you. Our student-held matches were at their full effect, we seemed to have lighted the fire inside of every person in Novi Sad.
The atmosphere felt unreal; nothing could have prepared me for the emotions I was about to feel. The grandma who gave me the medals, the woman who handed me the tulips, a kid that gave me a small plushie heart… I wasn’t ready for any of that. The surreal feeling, like everyone that greeted you was a long-lost friend, waiting to be reunited started to set in. These complete strangers celebrated us, and treated us like we were family. The blisters and sore legs were no more. The feeling was like we had just started our walk. People’s smiles, sense of unity and pride – it seemed like all the people who welcomed us were proud parents welcoming their kids with open arms, ready to embrace them with so much love that you couldn’t tell who’d burst into tears first.
After parading around the city we headed towards the railway station, the place where it all began. As we were closing in on the railway station, as if an optical illusion was happening, the station looked like it was running away from us, appearing further and further than it actually was, trying to play a trick on our already sore legs. Once we finally arrived, the representatives of each Faculty from the University of Belgrade laid 15 white roses in front of the station after which we spent the next 15 minutes in silence. As we stood in silence, the weight of the journey settled over us. Just as we had begun with a 15-minute silence at the Police Academy, which we later carried on into Beska, we now ended our walk with another, a reminder that every step we took was for those who could no longer walk with us.
[1] For instance, check this portal news: https://direktno.rs/vesti/drustvo-i-ekonomija/582939/pasti-studenti-pozdrav.html
