DL: Let’s turn to grandmother, then.


Nasiha: Yeah.


DL: Grandma, we’ll interview you a little bit. This thing for Ana. I’ll go sit by you.


Rasima: What would you like me to tell you about?


DL: Well, tell us about coffee.


Rasima: About coffee?


DL: About coffee. You know how it is with us in Bosnia, whatever happens, happens with coffee. We make it happen somehow, we come over for coffee, then we go to someone’s place for coffee, and everything is about coffee.


Rasima: Yes, but…

DL: And then ana figured it our and she wants to talk to as many Bosnians as possible about coffee. About our experience with coffee.


Rasima: sShe means, how I started to drink coffee?


DL: Yes, how did you start drinking coffee?


Rasima: We didn’t drink coffee, us girls. Very seldom. That… Only the elders drank coffee.


Nasiha: Older people, mother.


Rasima: And when you get married, the mother-in-law never pours coffee for the bride. Never. It was considered shameful for the bride to drink coffee with them, you know? And I was 18 when I got married. I didn’t know how to make either lemonade or cffee, right? My mom was still young and healthy, and anyway, what would we youngsters do? Her guests come over, and she prepares everything so us girls just go outside, go somewhere, um… And, you see, I don’t know, I don’t remember ever sitting down and having coffee with my father and mother.


DL: Not even later, when you got married?


Rasima: Aha. That wasn’t so prevalent where we lived. Smokers, yes, they liked coffee. But where we lived it wasn’t, I don’t know… I wouldn’t drink coffee even when I’d make children’s breakfast in the morning, for instance. Whatever beverage I’d make for the children, I’d have that same drink, either tea, or, I don’t know, we were brewing all kinds of beverages back then, out of cereal, I don’t know… But this, this real coffee of ours, that was, uh, before the war back then, all the women would count those..


DL: Beans.


Rasima: …how many coffee beans they’ll grind, grind with those grinders. Um, coffee was expensive, it wasn’t such a common beverage.


DL: And which one, how did you brew the cereal, was it barley?


Nasiha: There’s, when I was in Sanski Most last year, my sister found some in the store, or they had some, I don’t know, I can’t remember, she just told me that when she was sown there that she found a cereal beverage, like those we used to have, I think she told me it was a mix of grains, and now I crave it, I wish I could find it somewhere, and drink some. They say it’s so nice.


DL: I remember, I remember that during wartime, because we were in Sarajevo, that barley…


Rasima: Yes.


DL: They brewed barely. And I know that my mom and dad, ugh, um, they rolled their eyes. But they drank that barley beverage because there was no coffee.


Rasima: We rarely had it.


Nasiha: Mother, when did you first start drinking coffee, do you remember exactly?


Rasima: Well, I don’t even remember with… With my mother-in-law, maybe, sometimes with my sister-in-law. She was older than me and she’d call me, “Come have some coffee.” But for me, that coffee was never any...


DL:  Pleasure.


Rasima:  I never, you know, women would say, if she doesn’t have real coffee in the morning, she’d get a headache. I never would. But, later when I started having high blood pressure, then I would never drink coffee. I don’t drink it nowadays either.


DL: So basically you never drank coffee that much?


Rasima: Excuse me?


DL: You never drank coffee that much? Just every once in a while?


Rasima: Aha. Because it would get my blood pressure up.


DL: Of course.


Rasima: And so…


DL: And when you recall, like, um, those gatherings, your parents, their guests, when they visit at your house, when, would coffee be serves then, or, or something else? Like, let’s say, like now, when we come over, for instance Ana and I same over so, like, it’s normal that coffee… Was it like that, before, in your day, I mean, did your parents, at your parents’ home, was it like that, guests come over, and then… Or was it only for the men, or like this, regular?


Rasima: It was for the women, and for the men. It’s just that youngsters, young people didn’t drink coffee, young men or young women.


DL: You know what just occurred to me? You know when they say, I mean, um, like wedding day coffee? What’s the difference?


Nasiha: Well, we don’t know, we didn’t exactly, mom, do you know what’s wedding day coffee like? That wasn’t the custom, it depends on where you were, where you lived, you know, in which parts of the country. For example, my mother’s region, those folks were very, how can I put it, people on… It was a small town named Stari Majdan, but all-Muslim populated. But that used to be an extremely wealthy town, all-Muslim populated, so, um, mainly those people who had children and families, they drank coffee. However, those young people, they didn’t drink coffee. And there was none of those, nothing exactly, those, some of those kinds of wedding day coffee and some special custorms. Their custom was, when a guest comes by, first you ask them if they’d like lemonade, then after the lemonade it’s coffee and something sweet to go with the coffee.


DL: So you would, it was with lemonade?  


Rasima: Yes, like, would you like a glass of juice, except there were no juices back then, only lemonade, freshly squeezed lemons, so it’s, um, if someone doesn’t want that, then… And children weren’t offered anything. When children come…


DL: Yeah, well okay, um …


Nasiha: And, like this, afterward mom started to drink coffee with her girl friends, when they came by, and they’d be the only ones drinking coffee, for example, I never drank coffee with my mom. When I was young, then I didn’t remember at all when I even started drinking it, I didn’t… And then, for instance, if someone came by and sat and drank coffee with mom and dad, we never did.  


DL: I didn’t know of that custom.


Nasiha: Well, no, it wasn’t…


DL: No, not of…


Nasiha: We didn’t at all, simply, maybe we were just that kind of a family that didn’t drink a lot of coffee.


DL: Of course, maybe.


Nasiha: You know, it depends, now, somewhere where they drank a lot of coffee, they’d always sit down and drink it together.


Rasima: When my children were small, I’d mostly brew them those cereal beverages, and I’d give them milk, a cup each, spread something on a piece of bread or, whatever anyone wanted. Otherwise they didn’t sit down and drink with us and, no, I just prepare it that way, I mean that cup of milk and a piece of bread with some spread on it…


DL: And do you remember how you learned to brew coffee? Like, I mean, you didn’t drink it and, um, you didn’t begin drinking it for a long time, but, I mean, you got married…


Rasima: I didn’t begin drinking it for a long, long time.


DL: You got married, and how did you learn how to brew it, who taught you how to brew coffee?


Rasima: Oh, well, I watched my mom do it, so, I notice, wherever you go, coffee is served, but we don’t drink it. But, there was a place, there was no way the daughter-in-law would drink coffee when she moves in.


DL: Abut did, let’s say, like, you don’t drink coffee as a daughter-in-law, but do you have to prepare the coffee service for the guests?


Rasima: Yes.


DL: As a daughter-n-law, you have to make it?


Rasima: Of course. (chuckles) Right away, the mother-in-law …


DL: …sends you.


Rasima: Aha. I got married, and on the second day of the wedding reception, a lot of folks came. And my in-laws had wealthy relatives, they had two brothers, three brothers, and two sisters. Only one brother got marries, and of all the rest, nobody did. And there was one, beautiful, tall, they called her Hanumica. And they had such a nice life, I told them, and they came to the wedding. And they met me, and I… And I had a sister-in-law (bother-in-law’s wife), older than me, that one from… (laughter) And that one had a brooch, a golden one, I don’t know what you called that, that’s how rich they were, but they didn’t want… Only one brother got married and had two children. And the rest of them grew old and died, and nothing.


Nasiha: They didn’t want to because of the property, right? Because of the wealth, the brothers didn’t want to get married so that the wealth wouldn’t fall apart.


Rasima: Yes.


Nasiha: And the sisters didn’t want to get married either.


Rasima: And so they came, I met them, and that sister-in-law of mine, she’s really the one doing most of the greeting, and, you know. And then, Hanumica goes, “I want the bride to make us lemonade.” Haaa, but I don’t know how to make lemonade at all, I swear to god. Of course not, my mom was young, and when her friends would stop by, we run away, why would we be sitting among women. She was the one, she made the lemonade, coffee, we were…. And I look at her, I’m thinking why me, I can’t make lemonade. And my brother-in-law’s wife, there was a cabinet like that, so, um, she put, something like this, a bunch of those lemons, and a pitcher this big… How do I do this? Because there wasn’t that thing you use…


Nasiha: To squeeze…


Rasima: …You had to use a spoon to get the juice out. I saw… She saw I was blushing, you know, and all of them… I mean, I was young, so… And I start doing it. Aska says, “Here’s a knife, cut the lemon in half.” She whispers to me like that. And I say, (whispers) “I don’t know how.” At that point she goes outside and then back in, “They want you out there to go and dance, I’ll make lemonade.” She was so good, my god. And she really stayed there and made lemonade and I went outside. (Laughter.) I mean, that was…So young, so young. I went back inside again later, and she (Hanumica) says to my sister-in-law, her name was Aska, “Aska, we wanted the bride to make us lemonade, to see what she’s like.” I says, “Some other time.” (Laughter.) But I don’t know how, I think to myself.


DL: Did the same brother-in-law’s wife taught you to brew coffee? Or you…


Rasima: Well, I did see how she did it, she drank coffee, and mother-in-law as well…


Nasiha: How did that go, mother, was it that you bring the water to a boil, then you put some coffee in another vessel and pour hot water over, and they you put it back…


Rasima: Oh yes, yes, a little bit…


Nasiha: Explain it to her, mom, from the beginning, so that she… Water, bring it to a boil…


Rasima: Well, one time, an aunt of my husband’s comes over, she was from the countryside, so that I can take her to, um, to the band where my sister was working. Um, she needed credit or something like that. But I had no coffee. Neither my husband nor I had ever drank coffee, so we had never worries whether or not there’s any coffee in the house… She tells me, “I just,” she says, “had some burek at the train station, I’d only like some coffee.”


Nasiha: Why didn’t you order coffee with your burek at the station?




Rasima: She said, like, I don’t need to offer her lunch, just coffee. And I don’t have a single coffee bean anywhere in the house. But across the street I had a friend, Persa. We thought the world of each other. And the aunt relaxed on the couch a bit, and I run across the street. “Persa,” I says’ “give me a spoon of coffee,” I said, “the old lady is here.” She was old, but strict. She says, “Why didn’t you ask her how come she didn’t bring any?”




Rasima: I says…


Nasiha: Yes, it was customary to bring coffee, coffee is brought as a gift everywhere.


DL: Of course. Right.


Rasima: And so Persa quickly gives me some coffee, I immediately grind it, and when I made her a pot, I’m not drinking any, she says, ugh. I was so angry then, I almost didn’t take her to the bank. I made a really nice pot, with foam on the top, and everything, and when she had the first cup, she says, “You made a nice pot, but it didn’t,” she says, “boil twice.”


DL: What does that mean?


Rasima: I didn’t, when I poured hot water over the ground coffee, um, you’re supposed to put it back on the burner a bit, bring the coffee to a boil. She says, “It didn’t boild twice.” What am I supposed… (laughter)  I didn’t even have any fucking coffee. And so it…


DL: And do you remember your, like, first coffee pot you used to make coffee? Like, I mean, you only remember that moment you first brewed coffee, and the like, that coffee pot, and the stove?


Rasima: Oh, I wouldn’t say I remember. It was a long time ago.


DL: It was a long time ago.


Rasima. Yes. Maybe, maybe only when I had my third child, and my mom and my aunt came over, those ladies were a bit older. And I know, I started to brew coffee, but I don’t know how much coffee to use. And my mom gets up, I remember that. But…


DL: And did you brew coffee using just one large pot? For instance, in Podgorica, I, I, since we, since my mom and dad are from Podgorica, and the traditions are a bit different. And then, um, it’s always, um, difficult to make coffee, because with one, one pot is brewing, the big one, and then you make coffee for each person in those little individual pots.


Rasima: Aha.


DL: And so if you have a house full of guests, it means, you have to remember, what does this one like, what does that one, everyone wants their coffee differently and then when us children go over, and go, how would you like it, first we count how many there are, then who likes their coffee which way, is it with sugar, without, just a bit, with a lot of sugar, ugh…. But coffee was brewed individually. And everyone, the little one, the little pot, and everyone had a cup of coffee.


Rasima: Aha.


DL: And so, how, did you also make it that was, or did you make one big pot, and then…


Rasima: Well, that happens, it depends. I had a cousin, when you go over to her house, she’d have much smaller-sized fildžans, as we call them. Like this, small cups, and she’d only fill them half-way, and we’d always yell… Um, and my sister would go with me, she’d say, “Liste, where did you find cups this size?” She says, “You can only have one…” Sure, I swear, she pours you coffee twice, and some would have more. And she… we always talked about it, how small her cups are and little coffee she’d pour… We were amazed.


DL:  And do you remember when you, for instance, would buy coffee cups, you know when you go shopping for coffee cups, like, for the house, how did you pick those cups? How did you decide on the size?


Rasima: Well, there were some smaller ones, and some bigger ones. But not as big as these…


DL: Yeah, not these…


Rasima: Yes. This size wasn’t available.


Nasiha: And you liked, which kind, which shape? You didn’t like them too shallow? And about medium-sized, right, you didn’t like those that were too small or those too big ones, but…


Rasima: Yes, like that.


DL: And did you pick these kinds of cups, or did you, um, those with a little hook, what was the word?


Rasima: Well, I did… There was none.


DL: There was none of that. Only fildžans. And then later on when it was a bit… But that was after the war, the one before.


Rasima: Second, second world war.


Nasiha: But, mother, explain it to her that it wasn’t customary in our region to use those little individual pots, but the single big one, we called it ibrik, you brew a big ibrik full of coffee and pour into cups.


Rasima: Pour into cups from that thing, and milk from the other…


DL: And do you remember the whole ritual? You said at the beginning that, um, that it was mainly older folks and men who drank coffee. Do you make one pot of coffee and then they are sitting and sipping like that, for an hour, two, and talking? Do you remember that? Can you bring it to life for us?


Rasima: You call it ćejf, znaš. Like, pleasure. Some drink their coffee for an hour, two, sitting, and a little, and especially if they’re smoking… Um… And so, if they have time, they’re sitting, sitting over that coffee, sip a little bit… And later, later those cups appeared for… Few people had that back then.


DL: And then that, that single little cup, then they sit, and sip one drop, and light a cigarette, and talk, about everything, and with that one little, that little cup, several topics.


Rasima: Of course. That was a custom. But right before that war… That town where I was born, there was a mine nearby. They’d mine for ore, they’d mine for, those… Everyone worked at the mine, you know, after the war. But they burned everything down, even the dingiest buildings, some army, I don’t know. We stayed, my mom put two wool mattresses out, that’s what we slept on, um, there were no beds like this. And we go out into the garden, we have a big garden by our house. We were… There were five of us children, my youngest sister wasn’t even born yet. And we’re crying, noisy, they burned all the houses down. And all the houses were large. We had seven rooms. But it was all wood construction. There were no roofs like today’s ones. And when they burned it all down, and all the houses were close to one another, you couldn’t see, and it was in the middle of the day. Then they let the animals out, whoever had some, so they’re roaring, the children are crying, oh my god, you can’t even see the sun from all the flames and the smoke. Ha! And that’s how we became poor. And my father was a shopkeeper. He had a hop and a coffee house. And a large beehive, so he sold honey in his shop. And we were like that, it got dark, and we’re outside on those mattresses, and mom was with us, and dad fled to his people. And one soldier comes over to my mom, says, “Where’s your husband?” And she says, “I don’t know. He left like all the men, how would I know.” “He shouldn’t have,” he says, “Nothing would have gotten burned down.” Had he stayed, he meant. But there’s no way, they would have maybe killed him. And then…


Adela Sajdel Cerić: And you started talking about the mine and coffee. You have to talk about coffee.


Rasima: Well, we talked about it just now.


DL: And tell me, you said now that, um, that your dad, father had a coffee house?


Rasima: Yes!


DL: And how was that when men would come, um, how was that, for example after the service t the mosque, or after work, they gather at the coffee house and sip coffee?


Rasima: Of course. Mainly older men, because the younger men had to work in the mines and would return tired. But I spent very little time, I would stop by on my way to school. Our father would… And then off to school and…


DL: And what was that like, were there chairs and tables? Was it round? I mean, that’s how I imagine, because, from the books, was it round, so they can sit on those stools, on sofas, and sip their coffee?  


Nasiha: Do you, mom, remember, when you’d visit the shop, that coffee house, what did it look like inside?


Rasima: Well, I think there were, see, I remember, those benches like this.


DL: Aha.


Rasima: Yes, it wasn’t like this.


Nasiha: And who brewed coffee…?


Rasima: Well, a man did.


Nasiha: A man, I see. And women didn’t frequent the coffee house?


Rasima: No chance.


Nasiha: Men, only, and older men to boot, right?


Rasima: Older, older…


Nasiha: And what was the coffee service like, in those little pots?


Rasima: Yep.


DL: So it was traditional?


Rasima: At the coffee house, they had those small trays, a tray with a pot and a cup.


Nasiha: Are you getting bored, should we wrap it up?


DL: Should we wrap it up?


Rasima: … We got very poor all of a sudden, we didn’t have anything to wear, but …


ASC: She’s off he subject completely.  


Rasima: It all burned down, the only thing left was the one down…


Nasiha: Okay, and then, when I, when I finished roasting the coffee then I start to sell the coffee.


Dženita Lukačević: To sell?


Nasiha: To sell the coffee at, oh, two-three o’clock PM and that was that. And the second day was the same job, the same routine, the same everything. It was very…


DL: Were you selling it… Were you selling it from the store?


Nasiha: Yes.


DL: The factory or…?


Nasiha: No, no, no, no, I was selling there, in the same place, in the same room. Because it was a huge place, and then, that was together. And, uh, that’s it, that’s all. It was very hard, very heavy, and every single day you had to take a shower, wash your hair and everything, it was the smell of coffee.


DL: Kako Vam se nije zgadila kafa?


Nasiha: Ne.


DL: Nastavili ste je piti?


Nasiha: Ma nisam ja nikad, nisam, I never drank a lot of coffee. I just had a coffee in the morning and that’s it. Okay, that’s all about coffee.


DL: Okrenućemo se majki onda.


Nasiha: Yeah.


DL: Majko, mi ćemo Vas intervjuisati malo. Ovo za Anu. Ja ću se prebaciti kod Vas.


Rasima: O čemu ću Vam pričati?


DL: Pa, pričajte nam o kafi.


Rasima: O kafi?


DL: O kafi. Znate kako mi u Bosni, sve živo što se dešava, dešava se oko kafe. To mi nekako napravimo, evo dođemo na kafu, pa onda odemo kod nekoga na kafu, i sve je na kafi.


Rasima: Da, ali…

DL: I onda je Ana to skontala, i hoće da priča sa što više Bosanaca o kafi. O iskustvima sam kafom.


Rasima: Misli, kako sam ja počela piti kafu?


DL: Da, kako ste Vi počli piti kafu?


Rasima: Mi nismo pile, djevojke, kafu. Slabo. To… Samo su stari pili kafu.


Nasiha: Stariji ljudi, majko.


Rasima: A kad se udaš, nikako sverkva ne sipa mladi kafu da pije. Nikako. I bilo je sramota da ta mlada pije kafu s njima, znaš. I ja sam se udala od 18 godina. Ja nisam znala napraviti ni limunadu ni kafu, je li? Moja mama bila još mlada i zdrava, i ono, šta ćemo mi mladi? Dođu joj gosti, a ona to sve priprema i mi cure izađemo, odemo nekuda, ovaj… A vidiš, ja ne znam, ne sjećam se da sam ikad ja sjela s ocem i materom popiti kafu.


DL: Ni kasnije, kad ste se udali?


Rasima: Aha. To nije u nas baš toliko bilo to. Ko puši, on voli kafu popiti. Ali nije u nas, šta ja znam… Ja nisam nikad kad sam hranila djecu pila kafu ujutro, na primjer. Šta pravim djeci, to i ja popijem, ili čaj, ili, šta ja znam, bile su onda svakih kafa, od žita, od, šta ja znam… Ali ova, prava kafa naša, to je bilo, uh, prije onoga rata, sve žene brojale one..


DL: Zrnca.


Rasima: …kol’ko će samljeti, i da samelju na onaj mlin. Ovaj, bila skupa kafa, i nije se pila tol’ko.


DL: A koja, kako se od žitarica, to je od ječma bilo?


Nasiha: Ima, ja kad sam bila u Sanskom Mostu prošle godine, sestra moja našla dole u trgovini, ili kod njih našla, ne znam, ne mogu se sad sjetit, sad mi je pričala kad je bila da je našla neku kafu od tog žita, to što je nekad bilo, miksano neko žito čini mi se da reče, i ja sad bolujem za tim, da je meni to sad kupiti, da ja pijem je. Kažu da je to tol’ko fino.


DL: Ja se sjećam, ja se sjećam da je za vrijeme rata, jer mi smo bili u Sarajevu, da se od ječma…


Rasima: Da.


DL: Od ječma se pravila kafa. I znam da su mama i tata, uf, onaj, prevrtali očima. Ali da su pili tu kafu jer nije bilo kafe tada.


Rasima: Pa nije se pila.


Nasiha: Majko kad si ti prvi put počela piti kafu, kad si počela da piješ kafu, da l’ se sjećaš baš?


Rasima: Pa ja se ne sjećam ni sa sam… Sverkvom, možda, nekad onom jetrvom. Ona je bila starija od mene i ona mene zovne, “’Aj’, popij.” Meni ta kafa nije bila...


DL:  Užitak.


Rasima:  Nikad nisam, ono, kažu žene ako ne popije ujutru pravu kafu, boli je glava. A meni to nikad nije. Ali, još kad sam dobila pritisak, onda nikako nisam pila. Ni danas je ne pijem.


DL: Pa niste Vi ni puno ni pili kafu u suštini?


Rasima: Molim?


DL: Niste puno ni pili kafu? Samo ponekad?


Rasima: Aha. Jel odma’ mi tlak povisi.


DL: Pa ja.


Rasima: I tako…


DL: A kad se Vi sjećate, ovako, onaj, tih okupa, Vaši roditelji, onda ljudi kad dođu u, onaj, kod vas kući, kad, da l’ se tad prinosila kafa, il’ je, ili je bilo nešto drugo? Ono, recimo, kao sada, kad dođemo, evo Ana i ja smo došle pa, ono, kafa je normalno… Je li tada, prije, u Vaše doba, ono, da l’ su roditelji, kod roditelja u kući, da l’ je tako, dođu ljudi, i onda… Ili je samo za muškarce bilo, ili ovako, regularno?


Rasima: Bilo je i za žene, i za muškarce. Samo za mlade, mladi nisu pili kafu, ni muški, ni ženski.


DL: A znate šta mi je sada na um palo? Znate kad kažu, onaj, ono, kao svadbena kafa. A koja je tu razlika?


Nasiha: Pa ne znamo, mi tu baš, mama, da li ti znaš kakva je to svadbena kafa? Nije bilo običaj, zavisi gdje si bio, gdje si živio, znaš, u kojim područjima. Na primjer, moja mama odakle dolazi, tu si bili ljudi vrlo, kako bih ti rekla, ljudi na… To je jedno malo mjesto koje se zvalo Stari Majdan, ali su sve sami Muslimani bili. Ali to je bilo nekad jedno jako puno bogato mjesto, i naseljeno sa Muslimanima, tako da, ovaj, su većinom ti ljudi koji su imali djecu i familiju, oni su pili kafu. Međutim taj mladi, oni nisu pili kafe. I nema tih, baš tako, tih, nekih svadbenih kafa i nekih drugih posebnih običaja. Kod njih je bio običaj, kad neko dođe u kuću, prvo se pita da li će limunadu i onda iza limunade dođe kafa i nešto slatko uz kafu. To je bilo sve.


DL: A znači vi ste, sa limunadom je to bilo?


Rasima: Da, ono, hoćeš sok, ono nije bilo tad sokova, limunadu, pravilo se sa limunom, friškim, tako da je, onaj, ako neko neće, onda je… A djeci se ništa nije davalo. Djeca kad dođu…


DL: Ja, pa dobro, ono…


Nasiha: I ovako, onda je poslije mama kad je počela piti kafu sa svojim ženama, onda one dođu, i samo one piju, na primjer, ja nisam pila kafu nikad sa mamom svojom. Kad sam bila mlada, onda se ne sjećam uopšte ni kad sam je počela piti, ja to ne… I onda na primjer da je neko od nas sjedio i pio sa mamom i sa ocem, nismo nikad.


DL: A ja nisam znala za taj običaj.


Nasiha: Pa ne, nije to bio…


DL: Ne, ne za…


Nasiha: Pa nismo uopšte, jednostavno, možda smo mi baš tako familija gdje se nije pilo puno kafe.


DL: Pa ja, možda.


Nasiha: Znaš, a zavisi, sad negdje, ako se i pilo puno kafe, onda su svi zajedno sjedili i pili.


Rasima: Kad su mala djeca mi bila, većinom sam im pravila te kafe od žita, i mlijeko, i po šolju, i namažem im po šnitu  kruha ili, kako ko hoće. A nisu ovako pili sa nama i, nego ja to njima tako, za to s mlijekom i namažem šnitu kruha, i…


DL: A sjećate se kako ste naučili praviti kafu? Ono, mislim, niste je pili i, onaj, dugo je niste pili, ali ono, udali ste se…


Rasima: Dugo, dugo nisam pila.


DL: Udali ste se, i kako ste naučili praviti, ko Vas je naučio da pravite kafu?


Rasima: A, pa gledala sam šta mi mama radi, pa, vidim, gdje god odeš pije se kafa, ali mi ne pijemo. Ali, bilo je mjesta, nikako snaha nije pila kafu kad dođe.


DL: Ali je li recimo, ono, ne pijete kafu kao snaha, ali da li Vi morate pripremiti kafu za goste?


Rasima: Da.


DL: Kao snaha trebate pripremiti?


Rasima: Pa da. (chuckles) Odmah svekrva…


DL: …Vas pošalje.


Rasima: Aha. Ja sam se udala, i drugi dan svadbe došlo je puno naroda. I imali su ovi od muža mog bogate ljude, imali dva brata, tri brata, i dvi sestre. Samo se jedan brat oženio, a ovo su drugo, niko. A bila jedna, lijepa, visoka, Hanumica zvali je. Oni su tako fino živili, ja sam njima pričala, i oni su došli na tu svadbu. I sa mnom se upoznali, i ja… A imala sam jetrvu stariju, tu od… (laughter) A ta ima onaj broš zlatni, ne znam kako se je zvao, tako su bili bogati, ali nisu htjeli… Samo se jedan brat oženio i imao dvoje djece. A ovi ostarili i pomrli, i ništa.


Nasiha: Nisu htjeli zbog imovine, je li tako? Zbog tog bogatstva nisu se htjeli oženiti da se to ne bi raspalo.


Rasima: Da.


Nasiha: Ni udavati.


Rasima: I tako oni došli, ja upoznala se s njima i ta moja jetrva, ona to dočekuje više, i znaš. Kad će ta Hanumica, “Ja hoću da mlada napravi nam luminadu.” Haaa, a ja ne znam nikako limunadu napraviti, bogami. Pa ja, moja mama bila mlada, kad joj dođu žene, mi pobjegnemo, šta ćeš među ženama sjediti. Ona to, pravila limunadu, pravila kafu, nije nas… A ja pogleda’ u nju, reko’ kud ćeš mene da pravim limunadu. A ta moja jetrva, ovako bio onaj kredenac, pa ono, stavila ovako nešto, onih limunova i bokal ovoliki… Kako ću? A nije bilo ono da…


Nasiha: Iscijediš…


Rasima: …Nego kašikom moraš istisniti. Vidi ja… Vidi ona da sam se ja zapalila, znaš, a svi oni… Mislim, bila sam mlada, pa… I ja počela. Kaže Aska, “Eto ti nož, pa prepolovi.” Tako ona mani šapće. Kažem ja, (whispers) “Ne znam ja to.” Kad ona izašla, i uniđe, “Eno, zovu te vani da igraš, hajd, hajde ja ću to.” Bila dobra, bože. I stvarno ona osta praveći limunadu, a ja vani. (Laughter.) Ma to je bilo… Mlada, mlada… A ja uniđe poslije, a ona opet kaže mojoj jetrvi, Aska joj bilo ime, “Aska, mi smo htjeli da nam mlada napravi limunadu, da vidimo kakva je.” Reko’, “Drugi put.” (Laughter.) A ja ne znam, mislim.


DL: A je li Vas isto ta jetrva naučila da napravite kafu? Ili ste…


Rasima: Pa jesam ja vidjela, ona je pila, i svekrva…


Nasiha: Kako je to išlo, majka, je li prokuha voda, onda u drugoj posudi staviš kafu pa zaliješ, pa onda staviš da se…


Rasima: Pa da, da malo…


Nasiha: Objasni ti njoj mama iz početka, da ona… Voda, prokuha…


Rasima: Pa meni došla od mog muža tetka neka sa sela, da je odvedem u, ovaj, banku đe je seka moja radila. Ovaj, za neki kredit, šta li. A ja nemam kafe. Nit’ smo mi pili, ni čovjek ni ja, ni to, nismo nikad uzbijali ima li kafe, nema… Kaže ona meni, “Ja sam,” kaže, “na stanici bogami pojela ćevape, ja bih samo kafu.”


Nasiha: Što nisi na stanici popila kafu?




Rasima: Kaže, kao, ne trebam ja njoj ručak, nego kafu. A ja zrna nigdje kafe nemam. A imala ja ovako preko ceste jednu Persu. Strašno smo se držale ja i ona. I ona se malo spustila na kauč, a ja trknem. “Perso,” reko’ “daj mi samo fildžan kafe,” rekoh, “došla mi ta stara.” Stara, al’ bila oštra. Kaže, “Što joj nisi rekla, što nije donijela?”




Rasima: Ja, reko’…


Nasiha: Da, kafa se i nosila, svugdje se tamo nosi na poklon.


DL: Pa ja. Pa to.


Rasima: I ona meni brže usu, i ja u mlin, sameljem, i kad sam ja njoj džezvu napravila, ja ne pijem, kaže ona meni, uh. A tada sam bila ljuta, jedva sam je tada odvela u banku. Ja sam baš fino napravila, i gore pjena, i sve, i kad je popila prvi ovaj fildžan, kaže, “Fina ti je kafa, ali nije ti dva puta,” kaže, “kinula.”


DL: A šta to znači?


Rasima: Nisam, kad sam zalila, ovaj, treba da opet malo na vatru, pa, da kine kafa. Kaže, “Nije ti dvaput kinula.” Šta da ja… (laughter)  Nisam je ni imala, jebote. I tako to…


DL: A sjećate li se vaše, ono, prve džezve gdje ste pravili kafu? Ono, mislim, Vi se samo sjećate se tog momenta kad ste to prvi put napravili kafu, i ono, to, džezve, i šporeta?


Rasima: Pa, ne bi rekla baš da se sjećam. To je bilo davno.


DL: Davno je bilo.


Rasima. Da. Možda, možda tek kad sam rodila treće dijete, pa su mi došli moja mama i moja tetka, to su bile malo starije žene. I znam, tada sam ja nastavila kafu, ali ne znam koliko ću usut. I moja mama ustane, i to se sjećam. Ali…


DL: A jeste Vi pravili kafu u samo jednoj velikoj džezvi? Recimo, u Podgorici, ja se, ja, pošto smo mi, kako su mama i tata iz Podgorice pa onda su i drugačje tradicije. I onda je, onaj, vazda je, onaj, teško napraviti kafu, jer sa jednom, jedna džezva provrije, ona velika i onda se u malim džezvicama pravi pojedinačna kafa.


Rasima: Aha.


DL: I sad ako je puna kuća gostiju, znači, moraš zapamtiti, a kako je ovaj, kako onaj, i svako hoće drugačiju kafu i sad mi k’o djeca kad dođemo, pa kako ćete vi kafe, prvo izbrojimo kol’ko ih ima, i onda kako ko pije kafu, jel’ sa šećerom, bez šećera, s malo šećera, s više šećera, uf… Ali, pojedinačno je kafa bila. I svako, mala ona džezvica, i svako je imao po jedan fildžan kafe.


Rasima: Aha.


DL: I je li, kako, jeste Vi isto tako, ili ste samo, ono, u jednoj džezvi pa onda…


Rasima: Pa bilo je, kako kod koga. Ja sam imala neku svoju rodicu, njoj kad odeš, ona ima puno manje ove fildžane, kako mi kažemo. Ovako, mali fildžani, i ona još uspe samo pola, a mi vazda vikali… Ovaj, a moja sestra ide sa mnom, kaže, “Jel’, đe nađe ovolike fildžane?” Kaže, “Samo možeš jednom…” A ja, bogami, i ona uspe tako dva, a neko više popio bi. A ona… stalno mi pričali, majke, kako ima male fildžane i malo uspe kafe… I nama to bilo čudo.


DL: A sjećate se kad ste recimo kupovali fildžane, ono kad odete da kupite fildžane, ono, za kuće, kako ste otprilike birali fildžane? Kako ste veličinu birali? Kao sada što kažete da mali… Koliku ste Vi veličinu…


Rasima: Pa bilo je i manjih i većih. Ali nije bilo šolji, ovih.


DL: Da, ne to…


Rasima: Da. Nije toga bilo.


Nasiha: Ti si voljela, kakvu vrstu, kakav oblik? Voljela si malo dublje, onako? I da budu srednje veličine, jel’, ti nisi voljela previše one male niti previše veće, nego…


Rasima: Da, tako.


DL: A jeste uzimali ovako fildžane, ove, ili ste ono, sa malom kukicom, kako se zvalo?


Rasima: Pa nis… nije bilo.


DL: Tada nije bilo. Samo fildžani. Onda poslije kad je bilo malo… Ali to je bilo poslije rata, onog.


Rasima: Drugog, drugog svjetskog.


Nasiha: Ali, majka, objasni joj da kod nas nije bilo običaja u male one džezvice stavljat, nego sve bude u jednoj velikoj, ibrik se to zvalo, ibrik, veliki ibrik se skuha i onda se tako sipa.


Rasima: Sipa iz toga i mlijeko u drugu…


DL: A sjećate li se čitavog tog rituala? Vi ste rekli na početku da onaj, da su uglavnom stariji i muškarci pili kafu. Jel’ ono napravite jednu kafu pa onda oni tako sjede i ispijaju tako, po sat, dva, i pričaju? Sjećate se Vi toga? Jel’ možete mi dočarati to?


Rasima: To se kaže “ćejfe”, znaš. Kao, uživaju. Neko pije kafu po sat vremena, dva, sjedi, i pomalo, još ko puši… Ovaj… I tako, ako imaju vremena, sjede, sjede uz kafu, piju pomalo… A poslije, onda su postale one šolje za… To je malo ko imao tada.


DL: Pa onda taj, jedan taj mali fildžančić, onda oni sjede, pa srknu jednu kap, i zapale, i pričaju, o svemu, i na jednom tom malom, na tom fildžančiću, nekoliko tema.


Rasima: Pa da. A bio je običaj. Ali mi smo uz rat taj… To mjesto đe sam ja rođena, tud je bio blizu rudnik. A tu se vadila ruda, pa se vadili, ovi… Svi ljudi radili u rudniku, znaš, poslije rata. Ali su nam zapalili sve, ma i ćumeze, vojska neka, šta ja znam. Mi smo ostali, moja mama izbacila dva dušeka ona vunena, na onome se spavalo, ovaj, nije bilo kreveta ovako. I mi na baštu, imamo veliku baštu kraj kuće. Nas su… Nas bilo petoro djece, nije mi bila ova najmlađa sestra rođena. I mi plačemo, vrevimo, to su zapalili sve kuće. A to su bile sve one kuće velike. U nas bilo sedam soba. Ali je to pod onom daskom bilo. Nije bilo pod ovim sad krovovima. I to kad su zapalili, a blizo su kuće jedna do druge, to se nije vidilo, a u sred dana. Onda pustili ko ima živine, pustili vani, pa riču oni, pa djeca plaču, aman bože, ne vidi se sunca nikako od plamena i od dima. Ha! I ostali smo tako siromašni. A moj otac bio trgovac. Imao i dućan i kafanu. A pčelinjak veliki imali, pa on prodavao med u ovom dućanu. I mi smo tako smrklo se, mi smo vani na tim dušecima, i mama među nama, a otac je pobjegao ljudima. I jedan vojnik priđe mojoj mami, kaže, “Đe ti je muž?” Kaže, “Ne znam ja. Otišo ko i svi ljudi, šta ja znam.” “A nije,” kaže, “trebo. Ne bi mu se zapalilo ništa.” Ovo, kao da je on osto. O, kakvi, pa možda bi ga ubili. I onda…


Adela Sajdel Cerić: A počela si pričati za rudnik i kafu. Za kafu moraš pričati.


Rasima: Pa pričali smo sad.


DL: A recite mi, Vi ste sad rekli da onaj, da je Vaš tata, otac imao kafanu. Sjećate se Vi te kafane?


Rasima: Da!


DL: I kako je to bilo kada su dolazili muškarci, ono, kako je to bilo, recimo poslije džume, ili poslije posla pa se skupe u kafani i ispijaju kafe?


Rasima: Ma ja. Najviše stariji, jer ovi mlađi su radili u rudniku i dođu umorni. Ali, malo sam ja, ja sam se samo svraćala kad pojdem u mejtef. Nas je otac sviju… I onda u školu i…


DL: A kako su ta, te bile stolice i stolovi? Jel’ to bilo ono okruglo? Mislim, ja to tako zamišljam, zato što, iz knjiga, jel’ to bilo ono okruglo da oni sjede na sećijama, na minderima i ispijaju kafu?


Nasiha: Jel’ se ti, mama, sjećaš, kad si ulazila u taj dućan, u tu kafanu, kako je izgledalo unutra?


Rasima: Pa ja mislim da su bile, vidiš, ja se sjećam, k’o klupe ovako.


DL: Aha.


Rasima: Da, nije bilo ovako.


Nasiha: I ko je pravio kafu, ko je…?


Rasima: Pa jedan je čovjek pravio.


Nasiha: A čovjek, znači. I nisu tu žene dolazile na kafu?


Rasima: Ma kakvi.


Nasiha: Samo muškarci, i to stariji muškarci, jel?


Rasima: Stariji, stariji…


Nasiha: A kako se sipala ta kafa, u malim džezvama onima…?


Rasima: E, jes’.


DL: Znači to je bilo ono tradicionalno?


Rasima: U kafani, imaju male tacne, i džezva i fildžan.


Nasiha: Jel’ ti dosadilo, hoćemo završiti?


DL: Hoćemo završiti?


Rasima: …Samo smo osiromašili, da nismo imali šta ni obući ni obuti, nego…


ASC: She’s off he subject completely.  


Rasima: Sve izgorilo, samo osto onaj dole…