Google – AFP,
Jovan MATIC (AFP), 16 October 2013
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Postman Filip
Filipovic brings groceries on October 7, 2013 to a family near
Kursumlijska
Banja, some 300 kms south of the capital Belgrade (AFP/File,
Andrej Isakovic)
|
KURSUMLIJSKA
BANJA — When Filip Filipovic was named postman for a cluster of isolated
villages deep in the mountains of southern Serbia, he soon knew his job would
not stop at delivering the mail.
"I
simply knew I could not look away and turn a blind eye to reality, to the
living conditions of these children who have nothing, and lonely and abandoned
elderly people," said the 30-year-old, recalling his first tour of the
remote area.
Filipovic
covers a dozen mountain villages scattered along the border with Kosovo,
travelling along dirt roads from his post office in the small town of
Kursumlijska Banja.
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Postman
Filip Filipovic (R) checks on
October 7, 2013 on a swing in front of his
post
office in Kursumlijska Banja, some
300 kms south of the capital Belgrade
(AFP/File, Andrej Isakovic)
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Kursumlijska
Banja, some 300 kilometres (180 miiles) south of the capital Belgrade, hosts
one of Serbia's oldest spas, which has been closed and in ruins since 2007,
sign of the economic hardship blighting the country.
Filipovic
was 28 when he first made the journey from his hometown Kursumlija to
Kursumlijska Banja, a dozen kilometres along a narrow road lined with rows of
pine trees and empty houses, some collapsed, abandoned cafes and restaurants.
"I
told myself I had to do something. A few kilometres from 21st century
civilisation, we have people forgotten in the 19th century," Filip said.
He started
by renovating the post office, in a shabby building which also hosts the local
primary school, using his own money to repaint the premises.
At the same
time, chipping away at his salary of barely 300 euros ($400) per month, he was
bringing chocolates and sweets to children in remote villages, for whom such
luxury was unheard of.
At 6:30 am
in Kursumlija, it is a morning like any other.
With a list
in hand, Filipovic tours shops to buy a range of items from bread to newspapers
or cleaning products, before swinging by the office for his post bag and
hitting the road.
"There
are no more shops in the home villages of the people I help, so I do the
shopping for them," explained the self-effacing young man, with light
brown hair and bright eyes.
"Filip
is our guardian angel," said Marika Pavic, a grateful 70-year-old woman
whom Filipovic visits daily.
Around
midday he knocked at the door of the Dragicevic family in a remote house on a
meadow, surrounded by dense forest.
That day,
he picked up their boys Milomir, 7, and Radomir, 9, and drove them on to school
so they would not have to walk the eight-kilometre journey.
"At
the Dragicevic's, we have started to build a bathroom as they don't have one. I
hope it will be done by the end of the year," Filipovic said.
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Postman
Filip Filipovic checks documents
on October 7, 2013 as he leaves the post
office in Kursumlijska Banja, some 300 kms
south of the capital Belgrade
(AFP/File,
Andrej Isakovic)
|
The postman
did not stop there.
For two
years he has financed, organised and helped with the renovation of the local
school?s only classroom that provides education for six boys aged 7 to 11.
Last year,
the six left home for the first time in their lives for a one-day excursion,
organised by their postman at his own expense, to a town in central Serbia.
He bought
the boys schoolbags, notebooks and pencils, and also provided six computers.
Filipovic
rebuilt the school's toilets in the yard. This summer, during his vacation, he
built a playground for his young proteges.
"When
I saw the swings I told him 'You are the best, better than Santa Claus',"
said smiling Aleksandar, an eight-year-old boy surrounded by his classmates.
"Two
swings and a slide. For children from the town it's certainly no big deal, but
to them it changed their whole universe," smiled the postman.
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