I n the past, the societies of SoutheastEurope had a significant similarity:those societies were, to a greater or less-

er extent, mainly rural. The largest percent-age of the population lived in the villagesand off the land, while the number of peoplethat lived in towns was considerably lower.To illustrate that, we can compare the stateof affairs in the far north and the far southof that part of Europe: at the end of the 19thcentury 65.8% of the population in Hungarylived off the land, while the figure for Greeceat that time was 70%. We shall come to thesame conclusion if we look at the figures forcountries in the far west, where, in the last

decade of the 19th century, 75.5% of thepopulation in Slovenia and 84.6% of thepopulation in Croatia lived off the land. Weshall obtain similar figures, albeit with aslightly greater percentage of rural popula-tion, from the far east of the BalkanPeninsula: Romania – 82.4% and Bulgaria –80.9%. There was also a similar percentage ofrural population in the countries formingthe central part of the peninsula. Slightlyless than 90% of the population of Bosniaand Herzegovina lived off the land at theend of the 19th century, 90% in Albania, 87%in Serbia, 85% in Montenegro and 89% inMacedonia. If we compare those figures, we

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Children in Villagesand in Towns

Children from prosperous families in holiday attire, Serbia, 1911

see that, regardless of the differences in thepercentages of the rural population, at theend of the 19th century the majority of thepopulations of all those countries lived offthe land.

There is another similarity amongst themajority of countries of Southeast Europe.Smallholdings of around five hectares pre-dominated in most of them, which meantthat villagers owned the land but were main-ly poor, as the yields could not but be mea-gre. The situation differed somewhat inSlovenia, Croatia and Hungary, where thereremained a stratum of large landholders,while in Romania that stratum – possessingover 500 hectares of land – accounted for ashigh as 38% of the total rural population.Those large estates were tilled by hiredlabourers – villagers without land of theirown, which meant those labourers were evenpoorer than villagers with smallholdings.Besides, extensive land tilling predominatedin almost all countries, and mechanizationoften comprised only wooden ploughs, as aresult of which yields were even lower andfamilies even poorer.

The lives of village children were particu-

larly arduous. Even the very beginning oftheir lives was difficult because they wereoften born in the fields, their mothers hav-ing had to work up until the very birth. Welearn that mothers often carried tiny babieswith them into the fields, having no one toleave them with. Those babies then spentthe entire day out of doors. Children wouldalready be doing their first chores at the ageof as little as five or six (usually looking afterlivestock), while they would already beundertaking some of the more physicallydemanding jobs at the age of around ten. Asmany families were left without fathers onaccount of the many wars, the male childrenwould have to be performing the most diffi-cult tasks in their early teens. Besides house-hold chores, cooking and looking afteryounger brothers and sisters, little girlswould also start helping in the fields at theage of around ten. Hard physical labourexhausted their already weak organisms,which increased the rate of early mortalityand disease.

Other similarities link the countries ofSoutheast Europe. Industrialization startedin most of them in the last decade of the

10

Shephards, Banat, Yugoslavia, 1950

19th century. That led toa gradual change in theratio between the ruraland urban population,because part of the ruralpopulation sought em-ployment in factories,which were usually locat-ed in towns. Those shiftswere slow, and it was notuntil the period after theFirst World War thatgreater increases could benoted in the numbers ofpeople living in towns(59.2% of the populationwere still living in villagesin Slovenia in the 1930’s,79.9% in Romania, 61.7% in Hungary, 84% inBosnia and Herzegovina, 85% in Serbia, 83%in Dalmatia, 81,96% in Montenegro, 78% inMacedonia, 57.51% in Greece, 78.6% inBulgaria). Major changes were not to occuruntil after the Second World War. That hap-pened in some countries due to the rapiddevelopment of industry and towns (Greece,Turkey), while in other countries, wheresocialist orders were set up, the changeoccurred suddenly and violently on accountof the accelerated construction of large-scaleindustrial complexes. As a result of thosedevelopments, in the course of the secondhalf of the 20th century the percentage ofrural population fell to below 50% of thetotal population. These figures show that

societies changed slowly and that theirshifts were gradual, despite the 20th centu-ry’s turbulent political history (wars, revolu-tions, dictatorships, political coups).

Smaller towns predominated in thewhole of Southeast Europe in the 19th cen-tury and most of the 20th century, whileonly capital cities entered into the categoryof large towns. (...) As industrialization wasonly in the development phase in all coun-tries right up to the second half of the 20thcentury, most town dwellers dealt in artsand crafts and trade. It is interesting to notethat figures show a similarity amongst thedifferent countries in this case too. Forexample, at the end of the 19th century,almost 10% of the population of Croatia was

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An ”official“ photograph; Serbia between the two world wars

involved in the arts and crafts and earlyindustry, slightly less than 12% in Greece,13% in Hungary and 5% in Serbia.Merchants accounted for a significant per-centage of the urban population in mostcountries, with the stipulation that tradewas far more highly developed in Greecethan in the interior of the Balkan Peninsula(as many as 11% of the population were deal-ing in trade and transport activities at thebeginning of the 20th century in that coun-try). In addition to those professions, towndwellers were members of the free profes-sions (intellectuals, doctors, lawyers...); theyformed the workforce for the state adminis-tration, service activities and professionsrequiring particularly high skills (engineers,architects...).

Town life was somewhat easier for chil-dren than life in the villages. Living in hous-es and apartments built of solid materials,they had better and healthier living condi-tions (see the chapter entitled ”Children and

Health“), while the far greater number ofschools made education accessible to morechildren. Despite that, there were childrenthat started to work at a very early age in thetowns too (see the chapter entitled Childrenand Work), most often in family companies,and usually as craft apprentices or mer-chants’ assistants. The conditions in whichthey often worked over 10 hours a day werebad, and it was not until the beginning ofthe 20th century that most countries start-ed to regulate child labour by law and makeit less arduous.

Therefore, children in the past, regardless

12

● What do the people where you live thinkabout village life and town life?● Are there any texts in your countryís liter-ature that are similar to those in this book?● Compare them. Look for similarities anddifferences.

QQ uu ee ss tt ii oo nn ss

Lunchtime in a village. Large families were characteristic of the entire Balkan region

of the great differences that existed betweenlife in villages and towns (which were greaterin the past than they are today), led far hard-er lives than children do today and werecompelled, as their parents were poor, toenter the world of adults at a far earlier age.

D.S.

From Immigrantto Inventor

True to the old Serbian customs, the peo-ple from Idvor held their evening gather-ings. As a child, I had been at many of themin my father’s house. The old folk would sitaround a warm stove on abench made of the samematerial as the stoveitself, usually of brick,plastered with mortarand whitewashed. Themen would smoke andtalk; they looked like sen-ators, the self-appointedguardians of all the wis-dom in Idvor. Young menwould sit at the feet of theolder men; each with abasket in front of himinto which they shelledyellow grains of cornfrom big cobs. Thiswould carry on allevening. The olderwomen would sit onbenches along the wall;they would be spinningwool, f lax or hemp,sewing or embroidering.My mother’s favourite, Iwas allowed to sit by herand listen to the words ofwisdom and imaginationfrom the mouths of theold men, and sometimesfrom the mouths of mid-dle aged and young men,if their elders allowed.The young women wouldtake to singing from time

to time; they would sing songs connectedwith the events being discussed. When, forexample, one of the old men finished speak-ing about Karadjordje and his feats againstthe Turks, the women would sing songs inpraise of Karadjordje’s valiant militaryleader Hajduk Veljko, who defendedNegotin with a handful of Serbs against agreat Turkish army under the command ofMula-pasha. As the song went, those bravemen were like the greatly outnumberedGreeks in the battle at Thermopylae.

At the end of that year, my mother man-aged to persuade my father to send me tothe higher school in Pančevo. I there metteachers who made a strong impression onme, especially on account of their knowl-

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Two sisters, Serbia

edge of the natural sci-ences, which had beenquite unknown in Idvor.I there heard for the firsttime of an Americancalled Franklin, who haddiscovered, by flying akite in a thunderstorm,that lightning is theresult of an electricaldischarge that occursbetween clouds, and thatthunder is the result ofthe explosive expansionof air that has suddenlybeen heated by the pas-sage of electrical dis-charge.

When I visited myhome, I took advantageof the first opportunityto speak of everythingnew I had learnt to myfather and his friendsthat had gathered infront of our house on a Sunday afternoon.All of a sudden I noticed that my father andhis friends were looking at one another inamazement. It was as if their looks were ask-ing “What heresy is this impudent youngfellow speaking?” And then my father

looked at me severely and asked if I had for-gotten what he had often told me, thatthunder was the rattling of St Ilija’s carriageas it drove through heaven, and did I thinkthat the American, Franklin, who flew kiteslike some idling boy, knew more about suchmatters than the wisest of the men fromIdvor. I had always greatly esteemed myfather’s opinion, but that time I couldn’thelp smiling ironically, which annoyed him.When I noticed the anger in his big browneyes I jumped up and fled.

This text is an excerpt from the autobiography ofMihailo Pupin, famous Serbian physicist

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● Take your pupils to the local library orphotocopy newspaper or magazine articleson the subject of everyday urban life in thepast. Ask your pupils to write a short essayon the basis of what they have discovered.

RR ee cc oo mm mm ee nn dd aa tt ii oo nn

First shoes after the war, Athens, 1945.

Excerpts from an Oral History

InterviewFatma Altinsoy was born in Söģüt, Adapazari in1915, before the Turkish Republic was founded.She was the youngest of a family with four chil-dren. Fatma was five years old when her motherdied

"My mother died. Her knees had swollen;we didn't know why. I was very little.Women in the neighbourhood said, 'what apity, this girl is so unlucky'. Please excuseme, I always cry when I think of those days."

"I was beside mother up to her lastmoment. She said 'you'll suffer a lot buteventually you'll overcome all the misery'. Achattering sound came from the front of thedoor, she looked up three times, and she wasgone forever. But I really suffered a lot."

(When mother died, the father marriedanother woman. The stepmother treated thechildren maliciously. When she was 12 yearsold, Fatma started to work for a cocoon fac-tory in Adapazari to earn her living)

"So, we got used to working. A cocoonfactory was established in Adapazari; I start-ed working there on a weekly salary. But Ididn't even see the money. My stepmother

came and just took it. One day I went in andsaid, 'I want my salary'. They said 'but yourmother has already taken it'. Then the fac-tory started giving it to me and troublebegan at home. The woman started naggingmy father: "Well you're not supporting me".I am the one working at the factory. I wasbuying bread, this and that; lunch was notserved at the factory. I was trying to survive.And the cocoon factory was so cold..."

(Finally, because her step-mother con-stantly bothered her Fatma ran away toIstanbul when she was 12-13 years old,together with one of her girl friends. Thereshe started to work for a factory, lent ahouse, and lived as a young girl all by herselfin Istanbul until she got married when shewas eighteen.)

"At last some acquaintances gave advice.Then a friend of mine said, " I'm going toIstanbul. What are you to do here, will youstruggle with this woman and weary out?Come on let's go to Istanbul together. Thereare many factories in Istanbul, we'll work fora factory, we'll lend a room, and try to man-age until things get better. We ran away. Wejust ran away to Istanbul. There was apoliceman's wife. Her husband had diedand she had a son. She was living in a fairlylarge house in Hasanpasa Deresi, Besiktas.May God be pleased with her, she accepted

us. We lent a room in herhouse. We started to workfor tobacco factory. Myfriend was familiar withthe place. Our days wentby between the factory andthe house... I bought every-thing that was necessary, abrazier, tongs, oil, any-thing that was needed, Ibought them one by one.And I moved to my ownhouse. We were sattled,there was no need for astep-mother or a father anymore. We needed noone..We just went on liv-ing..."

Pieces from the oral interviewconducted by Busak Tug on 12th

May,1999. TurkeyInterior of the counry house after the First World War, drawn by A. Deroko

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The First FurrowAbove the village of Velike Vrbnice, even

further up, just under Mount Vratarna, youcould see, from Latkovičke heights, a mod-est village dwelling, and alongside it two orthree outhouses.

That’s widow Miona’s house.The late Sibin Džamić had died in the

second war against the Turks; he had fallenjust beyond Jankova gorge.

His widow, Miona, had been left to bringup by herself three fatherless children, twoboys and a girl. The eldest, Ognjan, was him-self only seven years old.

No greater tragedy can befall a villagehousehold than to lose the head of the fam-ily, the father. And such a misfortune hadhit many other households in that region.

The years passed.Miona became accustomed to the loneli-

ness and drudgery. It came so that shecouldn’t imagine life any other way! Thechildren had grown up. Ognjan was alreadyfifteen. He was attending school, a big boy.Dušanka was thirteen and already helpingher mother with the household chores.Although Miona rose early to collect onemore sheaf of wheat or to gather whatJelenko had cut the day before, there wouldbe lunch awaiting her when she arrivedhome. Dušanka would take care of that; shewas already an old hand in the kitchen; shecould even bake bread… The youngest,Senadin, was nine. He would still sometimesmake popguns from elder branches, but hewas able to look after the lambs and drivethe sheep to pasture. He was young, but hedid his share. Around St Peter’s Day, Ognjanfinished fourth grade, and just afterTransfiguration, Senadin started first grade.

Miona was just returning through theorchard when Dušanka came rushing out ofthe house carrying something in a bright,

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Children helping in the fields, Serbia 1910

colourful bag. - Where are you going, Dušanka? - Oh, what are you doing here? - replied

Dušanka in confusion. - Well, that’s good.There’ll be somebody at home… I was justgoing to see my brother…

- And where is he? - In the field, behind the cleared land… he

told me to take his lunch for him. - Isn’t he coming home for lunch? - No. - Why not? - Why do you ask? - He went off with the oxen and

ploughshare.- Oh, my dear, why didn’t you say that at

once? Give me that bag. I’ll take it to him.

Miona stood looking at her son. He wasjumping around like a small rooster, theploughshare weaving precariously from sideto side. It was hard work and his hands werestill those of a child. Miona had to stop her-self from running to help him, but she didnot dare approach him. She did not knowwhy herself.

She picked up the bag and set off slowlyfor home, turning back to look at Ognjanmany times. She saw him ploughing even

his third furrow!A strange kind of joy overcame her. She

didn’t know whether to laugh or to cry. Shecouldn’t make her feelings out herself. Aftera while, she said to herself: - Well, it’s timeGod brought some joy to me too. And am Inot happy? Who can say that? I’m veryhappy! After all, I have a son! There is a manin my house!

Milovan Dj. Glišić, Serbian writer

And Then anAeroplane FlewOver Belgrade

The citizens of Belgrade had entertain-ment in the town itself. The first cinemas,for example, were to be found there.

The cinema at “Pariz” (or “Takovo”) onTerazije Street was an interesting arrange-ment. As a “hall” had been improvised thereout of the previous long, narrow courtyard,canvas was placed in such a way that it hungin the middle of the hall, so that peoplecould see from both sides, and, in order tomake the picture clearer, the canvas was

Imagining the city, Turkish cartoon

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18

sprayed with water. The viewers would sit atcafé tables, eat and drink (only a café was onthe front side, while dinner was served at theback). Music was provided by a piano and,later, by a small orchestra comprising two orthree instruments. Serious music accompa-nied tragic scenes, and quick and merrymusic would be played during the comicepisodes. The films were, of course, silent.

It was a great sensation for the childrenwhen the Belgrade streets were dug up forsewerage pipes to be laid, which began in1905. There were deep trenches supportedby wooden scaffolding on several levels, thelabyrinths of which were perfect for playing“cops and robbers”, which was one of the

most popular games. There was no footballthen. There were gymnastic exercises, espe-cially for Swedish gymnastics. Two societiescompeted against one another – “Soko” and“Dušan Silni”. Cycling was also popularthen. Pera Selaković was “host” to a cyclingclub on the square below the NationalTheatre. That is where the Army Building(Dom Armije) is located today. A circuit sur-rounded a piece of flat land, over whichwater was poured in cold weather for it toserve as a skating rink.

Excerpt from the autobiography of Aleksandar Deroko,Serbian architect

Belgrade, 1905. Bathing in the river Sava.