On my overnight to Vienna, an American asked me at about two in the morning if I would mind if he moved his wife and child to the empty seat next to me for reasons he didn’t bother to explain. When I didn’t immediately warm to his generous proposal, he said things that aren’t printable in this family publication and even twisted my ear. I think I was too tired and surprised about the conflict to do anything about it.

On the 9½ hour flight back to Washington from Vienna, I saw the flight attendant referee the now classic battle over tilting the seat back. Tall people (i.e. people taller than a hobbit) often have the seat in front of them rammed into their knees. Another flight attendant lost her temper at two people who didn’t take the first (or second) hint that maybe they should sit down while she tries to serve trays of drinks to the passengers.

I was grateful I was an American when I landed at Dulles. The line for non-citizens to enter the country appeared very slow. I bet it came to a full stop when the two women dressed in full Islamic chador got to the head of the line. Mobile phones are now also prohibited in the customs area.

Going to the Chapel
Figuring out Serbia and Montenegro was difficult to say the least. However, one hard and fast rule was clear. American men may arrive in the region single, but they tend to go home married. In Serbia and Montenegro, there appeared to be a particular shortage of men due to the number who had died in war or gone abroad in the hopes of greater economic opportunity. In any case, for an American, joining the diplomatic corps or working as a consultant in the region seems a better bet than appearing on “The Bachelor.”

New Definition of Desperate
The charming and intelligent Romanian-born wife of an American diplomat unintentionally gave me a new definition of desperate when she was describing life under the Ceausescu regime. I had known that most Romanians wore every stitch of clothing they owned to bed in winter because Ceausescu declined to provide heat as part of a crazed effort to pay off the country’s foreign debt. Like the North Korean regime’s slogan of “It’s Patriotic to Eat Only Two Meals a Day!” the lack of heat didn’t exactly make me want to give up my comfortable life in the US of A.

Somehow, it appeared even more sad to this television addict that Romanians were reduced to jerry-rigging satellite dishes out of pieces of metal so they could receive Bulgarian television. Apparently, Romanian television only broadcast for two hours per day. Around ninety minutes was devoted to Ceausescu and the remaining thirty minutes to the crop report. Bulgarian television was the only alternative. And I bet that they didn’t even show the Simpsons.

As Cliff Schecter heads off to Romania, he might want to keep the low starting point in mind as he shares his thoughts on Serbia’s eastern neighbor. Apparently, they’ve made great strides. My new Romanian friend was pleasantly shocked by the amount of change when she went back to visit her native land.

Until Next Time
That’s all folks on Serbia and Montenegro. I look forward to Cliff's posts on Romania and I hope to travelblog again soon when I take a similar trip to Germany in a few months. Thanks to everyone who read any posts and those who took the time to write.