We had a wonderful tour guide in Serbia. For one thing, she was a great story-teller. For another, her English was excellent. She said her name was (what sounded like) Nevana, but she said tourists always get it wrong so I probably got it wrong.
She led us all over the Belgrade Fort, pointing out that what used to be a moat was now a tennis court for Novak Djokovic wanna-be’s and a basketball court for Vasilije Micic wanna-be’s.
(She was the one who described “The Victor” statue as “mooning” the Turks.)
“I learned all my English from TV and movies,” she told us on the bus. “I watched all the James Bond movies until I knew them by heart,” she said. “Sean Connery is the only James Bond.” She deepened her voice and said impressively, “My name is Bond. James Bond.” Then she said, “I went to one of his movies which had a French voiceover and he said–” she made her own voice high, squeaky and nervous, “Je m’appelle Bond. James Bond.” She lowered her head and shook it back and forth with disapproval. “No, no, no! That just doesn’t do it!”
Nevana, about 25, told us about growing up in four different countries. She ticked them off on her fingers. “I was born in Serbia. Then we lived in the Federal Republic of Yugoslavia. Then we lived in Serbia and Montenegro. Now we live in the independent state of Serbia. And I haven’t moved!”