Ivan Tovic is a morning person. He’s singing, laughing, playing with children; he’s a burst of optimism in the relentless boredom of this park-slash-refugee camp near Belgrade’s central bus station.
But there’s one issue: Ivan has had at least six cans of Staropramen beer. It’s 9:30 a.m.
Another problem: Islam, the dominant religion among the Syrian refugees congregated here, forbids alcohol and takes a dim view of those who drink it.
Yet Mr. Tovic is tolerated here, perhaps even welcomed. He bends down to greet an elderly Afghan couple with what seems like sincere deference, even kissing the sun-weathered hand of the wife. He lends his bicycle to a lanky Syrian boy to take for a spin around the park.
“Look, I’m a drunk, but I drink because I feel bad about all that is happening here,” he says in a rare moment of sadness. Then his face breaks into a huge grin to greet Mohammad, a 5-year-old boy playing beside him.
Mohammad’s mother, Yasmine, takes the opportunity to rest. But she suddenly becomes wary when someone tells her Ivan is "sakraan," or drunk.
“Really? Maybe we should move away,” she says as she scans the park for another location.
But she stays. Mr. Tovic and Mohammad play on.