Start spreading the news. I’m leaving next week.

Last week, coworker N took K and I out for some jazz. We went to a kafana in Zemun where a group of jazz musicians congregate every Tuesday. It’s an older crowd – at the beginning of the show, K and I were the youngest ones in the place by at least 20 years, but the people watching, excellent music, and N’s hospitality more than made up for it.

I rarely listen to jazz, which is ridiculous, as I really enjoy it. I recognized many of the standards they played from my high school jazz band career and, remembering my own lack of skillfulness, appreciated the music even more.

A highlight of the night was the last song. Somehow, the singer—probably the best scatter I have ever hear—learned that there were a couple of Americans in the audience. He announced this fact and sang, ‘New York, New York’ in our honor. It was really lovely to be serenaded and made to feel welcome by a roomful of mostly senior citizens.

It was one of those ‘only in Serbia’ moments. It will be strange to return to a life in which being an American is not distinctive.