365(ne)lepihdana

[eye of the beholder]

Zasto IM? Zar ta prica nije potekla odavde? Mozda ima veze sa ovim...

Pa onda još bolje, svaka NAM čast :)

[Turnbull]

Stavio već Pejsi na zaglupljivanje, ali evo i ovde da ostane za buduća neka pokolenja...

Da li bi Andželina Džoli odsekla sebi glavu, da je imala 87% šansi da dobije rak mozga?HORMONALNI ISPADIby Mooshema | on May 16th, 2013 | 14 commentsKao što iz naslova vidite, nisam impresionirana onim što je uradila Andželina Džoli. Smatram to jednom agresivnom anti-kampanjom protiv zdravog razuma i promocije zdravog stila života. Agresivnom i opasnom kampanjom.Moja majka je umrla od raka želuca pre dve nedelje. Njen otac je umro od raka bubrega, a brat joj od raka pankreasa.Kolike su moje šanse, samo po majčinoj strani, da umrem od raka želuca, bubrega ili pankreasa?Šta mi savetujete, da krenem redom da vadim te organe, da svedem taj rizik na 5%?Šta da radi moja drugarica čiji otac je umro od raka mozga? Da izvadi mozak, preventivno?Ono što Andželina Džoli nije rekla, nakon što je dala da joj se odstrane obe dojke, čemu je prethodila tromesečna hormonska priprema, to je da se rak može prevenirati obrazovanjem žena glede stila života: zdrave ishrane i umerene svakodnevne aktivnosti.Ono što nije rekla, a na poziciji je da može da utiče na žene (ona, znate, ima taj potencijal stvarnog uticaja — ima planetarnu popularnost i poznatost, novac, lepotu, lepog muža i tonu usvojene i svoje rođene dece) jeste da bi brokoli, kupus i ostalo povrće koje je bogatoglukobrazicinom (glucobrassicin), a koji se, mešanjem sa pljuvačnom kiselinom pretvara I3C(indol 3 carbinol), na primer samo, kažem na primer, dokazano smatra moćnim preventivnim oružjem protiv nastanka ćelija raka.Ono što nije rekla, to je da većina lekara preventivno uzima selen, vitamin D, magnezijum, cink… upravo da bi smanjila šanse da aktvira ćelije raka.Ono što bih ja rekla, to je da se moja majka poslednjih nedelja svog života bukvalno davila u supama od brokolija, pojela je na desetine kilgrama i litara te supe koju je pravila svakoga dana, nedeljama, moja sestra, a da mama nije znala zašto je to jedina, ali jedina hrana koju može i želi da jede, bez povraćanja i mučnine. Slučajnost ili logika tela? Ne znam, nisam ni stručna, ni paranoična, ni sujeverna.Svako od nas nosi gen raka. Gen raka nije smrtna presuda.Poruka i primer ženama da je najbolji lek u prevenciji raka dojke - odstranjivanje dojke, sama ta ideja, veoma je bolesna, mnogo bolesnija od samog raka.- Sve žene koje za ovo čuju, nadam se da će sada znati da imaju šanse, rekla je Andželina Džoli za Njujork Tajms.- Sada više moja deca neće morati da strahuju da će izgubiti majku zbog raka dojke, rekla je takođe.

foto: ABC

Šanse?! Imaju šanse? Za šta? Da odstranjuju delove svog tela u preventivne svrhe?Deca strahuju? A zašto strahuju? Pričala im je o tim famoznim procentima? Pokazivala slike žena koje umiru od raka dojke? Kako je došlo do toga da deca od toga strahuju?OK.Da li muškarci treba da odstranjuju testiste da bi smanjili procenat mogućnosti obolevanja od raka testisa? Pa da njihova deca, ako su pre operacije uspeli da ih naprave, ne strahuju da će im očevi umreti od tog raka?I, onda, nijednom rečju, ni ona, ni bolnica u kojoj je rađena ova preventive radi monstruozna operacija koja je protivprirodni akt zapravo ako do stvarnog rizika nije došlo, nisu ništa rekli o prevenciji raka dojke, o tome da žene treba da se spakuju i urade UZ ili MR dojke, da se redovno samopregledaju, da promene ishranu i stil života. Niti-jedna-jedina-reč-o-tome, o stvarima koje ne odgovaraju faramaceutskoj industriji jer bi ostali bez svojih sigurnih mušterija. Ne, nego imate pravo da ludujete i svoje ludilo legitmno upotrebite da uradite isto i nazovete to zdravom odlukom?Znate li koliko je žena na svetu počelo da razmišlja o tome, o mastektomiji?!Ne. Ovo je najbolesnija demonstracija ženskih prava i sloboda, i demonstracija moći i uticaja, koju sam ikada u životu čula i videla.

• Foto cover: Reuters

EDIT, 17. maj 2013. 5:37Na ovaj tekst, koji je objavljen pre tačno 24 sata, pristiglo je preko 150 komentara, od kojih je većina završila na moderaciji i to zato što prvi put komentarišete na ovom blogu. Po svom sadržaju, većina komentara je prepuna ličnih uvreda prema meni, mojoj boji kose i veličini mog mozga ili mojih grudi. Pošto se diskurs Farme ne može ovde vrednovati kao argumentovana rasprava, nikada ih ne bih ni pustila. Međutim, neću da trošim vreme da iščitavam jedan po jedan komentar, vadim žito od kukolja i zamajavam se najnižim oblicima komunikacije. Posebno što, da bih izdvojila pristojne komentare, morala bih da pročitam bukvalno sve, 135 komentara, i da sve te vaše lične uvrede praktično prvo primim pre nego što vas zafrljačim u spam, tako da neću to sebi da radim, niti vama da pričinim to nisko zadovoljstvo.Zato zatvaram komentare u celosti. To će mnogima pomoći da ih zadrže za sebe i ne brukaju se, ma koliko anonimni bili. Ostalima, koji su bili razumni i vaspitani, čak i ako se nisu složili sa mnom, posebno onima koji nisu bili anonimni u svom neslaganju sa mnom, ovog puta dugujem izvinjenje što ni njihovi komentari, koji bi to po svemu zaslužili, neće biti vidljivi ostalima. Nevidljivi su sada postali i oni odobreni do ovog momenta, ali to je zato što je sistem takav, “ili sve ili ništa”, a ne moja volja.

I samo da se podsetimo:

Smile! You've got cancerCancer is not a problem or an illness – it's a gift. Or so Barbara Ehrenreich was told repeatedly after her diagnosis. But the positive thinkers are wrong, she says: sugar-coating illnesses can exact a dreadful cost

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Ehrenreich: 'In the lore of the disease, chemotherapy smoothes and tightens the skin and helps you lose weight, and, when your hair comes back it will be fuller, softer, easier to control, and perhaps a surprising new colour.' Photograph: Stephen VossIf you had asked me, just before the diagnosis of cancer, whether I was an optimist or a pessimist, I would have been hard-pressed to answer. But on health-related matters, as it turned out, I was optimistic to the point of delusion. Nothing had so far come along that could not be controlled by diet, stretching, painkillers or, at worst, a prescription. So I was not at all alarmed when a routine mammogram aroused some "concern" on the part of my gynaecologist.How could I have breast cancer? I had no known risk factors, there was no breast cancer in the family, I'd had my babies relatively young and nursed them both. I ate right, drank sparingly and worked out. When the gynaecologist suggested a follow-up mammogram four months later, I agreed only to placate her.The result of the mammogram, conveyed to me by phone a day later, was that I would need a biopsy, and, for some reason, a messy, surgical one with total anaesthesia. Still, I was not overly perturbed and faced the biopsy like a falsely accused witch confronting a trial by dunking: at least I would clear my name. I called my children to inform them of the upcoming surgery and assured them that the great majority of lumps detected by mammogram – 80%, the radiology technician had told me – are benign.My official induction into breast cancer came 10 days later with the biopsy, from which I awoke to find the surgeon standing perpendicular to me, at the far end of the bed, down near my feet, stating gravely, "Unfortunately, there is a cancer." It took me the rest of that drug-addled day to decide that the most heinous thing about that sentence was not the presence of cancer but the absence of me – for I, Barbara, did not enter into it even as a cation, a geographical reference point. I had been replaced by it, was the surgeon's implication.I know women who followed up their diagnoses with weeks or months of self-study, mastering their options, interviewing doctor after doctor, assessing the damage to be expected from the available treatments. But I could tell from a few hours of investigation that the career of a breast cancer patient had been pretty well mapped out in advance: you may get to negotiate the choice between lumpectomy and mastectomy, but lumpectomy is commonly followed by weeks of radiation, and in either case if the lymph nodes turn out, upon dissection, to be invaded – or "involved," as it's less threateningly put – you're doomed to months ofchemotherapy, an intervention that is on a par with using a sledge hammer to swat mosquitoes.The pressure was on, from doctors and loved ones, to do something right away – kill it, get it out now. The endless exams, the bone scan to check for metastases, the hi-tech heart test to see if I was strong enough to withstand chemotherapy – all these blurred the line between selfhood and thing-hood anyway, organic and inorganic, me and it. As my cancer career unfolded, I would, the helpful pamphlets explained, become a composite of the living and the dead – an implant to replace the breast, a wig to replace the hair. And then what will I mean when I use the word "I"? I fell into a state of unreasoning passive aggressivity: they found it, let them fix it.Fortunately, no one has to go through this alone. Forty years ago, before Betty Ford, Rose Kushner, Betty Rollin and other pioneer patients spoke out, breast cancer was a dread secret, endured in silence and euphemised in obituaries as a "long illness". Today, however, it's the biggest disease on the cultural map, bigger than Aids, cystic fibrosis or spinal injury, bigger even than those more prolific killers of women – heart disease, lung cancer, and stroke. There are hundreds of websites devoted to it, not to mention newsletters, support groups and a whole genre of first-person breast cancer books.The first thing I discovered as I waded out into the relevant sites is that not everyone views the disease with horror and dread. Instead, the appropriate attitude is upbeat and even eagerly acquisitive. There is, I found, a significant market for all things breast cancer-related. You can dress in pink-beribboned sweatshirts, denim shirts, pyjamas, lingerie, aprons, shoelaces and socks; accessorise with pink rhinestone brooches, scarves, caps, earrings and bracelets; and brighten up your home with breast cancer candles, coffee mugs, wind chimes and night-lights. "Awareness" beats secrecy and stigma, of course, but I couldn't help noticing that the existential space in which a friend had earnestly advised me to "confront [my] mortality" bore a striking resemblance to a shopping centre.This is not entirely a case of cynical merchants exploiting the sick. Some of the breast cancer accessories are made by breast cancer survivors themselves, and in most cases a portion of the sales goes to breast cancer research. It is also clear that the ultrafeminine theme of the breast cancer marketplace – the prominence, for example, of cosmetics and jewellery – could be understood as a response to the treatments' disastrous effects on one's looks. There is no doubt, though, that all the prettiness and pinkness is meant to inspire a positive outlook.I needed whatever help I could get, and found myself searching obsessively for practical tips on hair loss, how to select a chemotherapy regimen, what to wear after surgery and eat when the scent of food sucks. There was, I soon discovered, far more than I could usefully absorb, for thousands of the afflicted have posted their stories, beginning with the lump or bad mammogram, proceeding through the agony of the treatments, pausing to mention the sustaining forces of family, humour and religion, and ending, in almost all cases, with an upbeat message for the terrified neophyte.I couldn't seem to get enough of these tales, reading on with panicky fascination about everything that can go wrong – septicemia, ruptured implants, startling recurrences a few years after the completion of treatments, "mets" (metastases) to vital organs, and – what scared me most in the short term – "chemobrain" or the cognitive deterioration that sometimes accompanies chemotherapy. I compared myself with everyone, selfishly impatient with those whose conditions were less menacing, shivering over those who had reached Stage IV (there is no Stage V), constantly assessing my chances.But, despite all the helpful information, the more fellow victims I discovered and read, the greater my sense of isolation grew. No one among the bloggers and book writers seemed to share my sense of outrage over the disease and the available treatments. What causes it and why is it so common, especially in industrialised societies? Why don't we have treatments that distinguish between different forms of breast cancer or between cancer cells and normal dividing cells? In the mainstream of breast cancer culture, there is very little anger, no mention of possible environmental causes, and few comments about the fact that, in all but the more advanced, metastasised cases, it is the "treatments", not the disease, that cause the immediate illness and pain. In fact, the overall tone is almost universally upbeat. The Breast Friendswebsite, for example, features a series of inspirational quotes: "Don't cry over anything that can't cry over you"; "When life hands out lemons, squeeze out a smile"; "Don't wait for your ship to come in… swim out to meet it," and much more of that ilk.As in the Aids movement, upon which breast cancer activism is partly modelled, the words "patient" and "victim," with their aura of self-pity and passivity, have been ruled un-PC. Instead, we get verbs: those who are in the midst of their treatments are described as "battling" or "fighting", sometimes intensified with "bravely" or "fiercely" – language suggestive of Katharine Hepburn with her face to the wind. Once the treatments are over, one achieves the status of "survivor", which is how the women in my local support group identified themselves, AA-style. For those who cease to be survivors, again, no noun applies. They are said to have "lost their battle" – our lost brave sisters, our fallen soldiers.The cheerfulness of breast cancer culture goes beyond mere absence of anger to what looks, all too often, like a positive embrace of the disease. Writing in 2007, New York Times health columnist Jane Brody quoted bike racer and testicular cancer survivor Lance Armstrong, who said, "Cancer was the best thing that ever happened to me", and cited a woman asserting that "breast cancer has given me a new life. Breast cancer was something I needed to experience to open my eyes to the joy of living." Betty Rollin, one of the first American women to go public with her disease, was enlisted to testify that she has "realised that the source of my happiness was, of all things, cancer – that cancer had everything to do with how good the good parts of my life were".In the most extreme characterisation, breast cancer is not a problem at all, not even an annoyance – it is a "gift", deserving of the most heartfelt gratitude. One survivor writes in her book The Gift Of Cancer: A Call To Awakening that "cancer is your ticket to your real life. Cancer is your passport to the life you were truly meant to live." And if that is not enough to make you want to go out and get an injection of live cancer cells, she insists, "Cancer will lead you to God. Let me say that again. Cancer is your connection to the Divine."The effect of all this positive thinking is to transform breast cancer into a rite of passage – not an injustice or a tragedy to rail against but a normal marker in the life cycle, like menopause or grandmotherhood. Everything in mainstream breast cancer culture serves, no doubt inadvertently, to tame and normalise the disease. Indeed, you can defy the inevitable disfigurements and come out, on the survivor side, actually prettier, sexier, more feminine. In the lore of the disease – shared with me byoncology nurses as well as by survivors – chemotherapy smoothes and tightens the skin and helps you lose weight, and when your hair comes back it will be fuller, softer, easier to control, and perhaps a surprising new colour. These may be myths, but for those willing to get with the prevailing programme, opportunities for self-improvement abound. Breast cancer is a chance for creative self-transformation – a makeover opportunity, in fact.In this seamless world, dissent is a kind of treason. As an experiment, I posted a statement on a message board, under the subject line "Angry", briefly listing my complaints about the debilitating effects of chemotherapy, recalcitrant insurance companies, environmentalcarcinogens and, most daringly, "sappy pink ribbons". I received a few words of encouragement in my fight with the insurance company, which had taken the position that my biopsy was a kind of optional indulgence, but mostly a chorus of rebukes. "Suzy" wrote to tell me, "I really dislike saying you have a bad attitude towards all of this, but you do, and it's not going to help you in the least." "Mary" was a bit more tolerant, writing, "Barb, at this time in your life, it's so important to put all your energies toward a peaceful, if not happy, existence. Cancer is a rotten thing to have happen and there are no answers for any of us as to why. But to live your life, whether you have one more year or 51, in anger and bitterness is such a waste..."Exhortations to think positively – to see the glass half full, even when it lies shattered on the floor – are not restricted to the pink ribbon culture. A few years after my treatment, I ventured out into another realm of personal calamity – the world of laid-off white-collar workers. At the networking groups, boot camps and motivational sessions available to the unemployed, I found unanimous advice to abjure anger and "negativity" in favour of an upbeat, even grateful approach to one's immediate crisis. People who had been laid off from their jobs and were spiralling down toward poverty were told to see their condition as an "opportunity" to be embraced. Here, too, the promised outcome was a kind of "cure": by being positive, a person might not only feel better during his or her job search, but actually bring it to a faster, happier conclusion.In fact, there is no kind of problem or obstacle for which positive thinking or a positive attitude has not been proposed as a cure. Having trouble finding a mate? Nothing is more attractive to potential suitors than a positive attitude, or more repellent than a negative one. Need money? Wealth is one of the principal goals of positive thinking. There are hundreds of self-help books expounding on how positive thinking can "attract" money – a method supposedly so reliable that you are encouraged to begin spending it now. Practical problems such as low wages and unemployment are mentioned only as potential "excuses". The real obstacle lies in your mind.Like a perpetually flashing neon sign in the background, like an inescapable jingle, the injunction to be positive is so ubiquitous that it's impossible to identify a single source. Oprah routinely trumpets the triumph of attitude over circumstance. A Google search for "positive thinking" turns up 1.92m entries. A whole coaching industry has grown up since the mid-90s, heavily marketed on the internet, to help people improve their attitudes and hence, supposedly, their lives.In my case, however, there was, I learned, an urgent medical reason to embrace cancer with a smile: a "positive attitude" is supposedly essential to recovery. During the months when I was undergoing chemotherapy, I encountered this assertion over and over – on websites, in books, from oncology nurses and fellow sufferers. Eight years later, it remains almost axiomatic, within the breast cancer culture, that survival hinges on "attitude". One study found 60% of women who had been treated for the disease attributing their continued survival to a "positive attitude". In articles and on websites, individuals routinely take pride in this supposedly lifesaving mental state."Experts" of various sorts offer a plausible-sounding explanation for the salubrious properties of cheerfulness. A recent e-zine article entitledBreast Cancer Prevention Tips – and the notion of breast cancer "prevention" should itself set off alarms, since there is no known means of prevention – for example, advises that: "A simple positive and optimistic attitude has been shown to reduce the risk of cancer. This will sound amazing to many people; however, it will suffice to explain that several medical studies have demonstrated the link between a positive attitude and an improved immune system."You've probably read that assertion so often, in one form or another, that it glides by without a moment's thought about what the immune system is, how it might be affected by emotions and what, if anything, it could do to fight cancer. The link between the immune system, cancer, and the emotions was cobbled together somewhat imaginatively in the 70s. It had been known for some time that extreme stress could debilitate certain aspects of the immune system. Torture a lab animal long enough, as the famous stress investigator Hans Selye did in the 30s, and it becomes less healthy and resistant to disease. It was apparently a short leap, for many, to the conclusion that positive feelings might be the opposite of stress – capable of boosting the immune system and providing the key to health, whether the threat is a microbe or a tumour.You can see the theory's appeal. First, the idea of a link between subjective feelings and the disease gave the breast cancer patient something to do. Instead of waiting passively for the treatments to kick in, she had her own work to do – on herself. At the same time, it created expanded opportunities in the cancer research and treatment industry: not only surgeons and oncologists were needed, but behavioral scientists, therapists, motivational counsellors and people willing to write exhortatory self-help books.The dogma, however, did not survive further research. In the May 2007 issue of Psychological Bulletin, James Coyne and two co-authors published the results of a systematic review of all the literature on the supposed effects of psychotherapy on cancer. The idea was that psychotherapy, like a support group, should help the patient improve her mood and decrease her level of stress. But Coyne and his coauthors found the existing literature full of "endemic problems". "If cancer patients want psychotherapy or to be in a support group, they should be given the opportunity to do so," Coyne said in a summary of his research. "There can be lots of emotional and social benefits. But they should not seek such experiences solely on the expectation that they are extending their lives."It could be argued that positive thinking can't hurt, that it might even be a blessing to the sorely afflicted. Who would begrudge the optimism of a dying person who clings to the hope of a last-minute remission? Or of a bald and nauseated chemotherapy patient who imagines that the cancer experience will end up giving her a more fulfilling life? Unable to actually help cure the disease, psychologists looked for ways to increase such positive feelings about cancer. If you can't count on recovering, you should at least come to see your cancer as a positive experience.But rather than providing emotional sustenance, the sugar-coating of cancer can exact a dreadful cost. First, it requires the denial of understandable feelings of anger and fear, all of which must be buried under a cosmetic layer of cheer. This is a great convenience for health workers and even friends of the afflicted, who might prefer fake cheer to complaining, but it is not so easy on the afflicted. One 2004 study even found, in complete contradiction to the tenets of positive thinking, that women who perceive more benefits from their cancer "tend to face a poorer quality of life – including worse mental functioning – compared with women who do not perceive benefits from their diagnoses."Besides, it takes effort to maintain the upbeat demeanor expected by others – effort that can no longer be justified as a contribution to long-term survival. Consider the woman who wrote to Deepak Chopra that her breast cancer had spread to the bones and lungs: "Even though I follow the treatments, have come a long way in unburdening myself of toxic feelings, have forgiven everyone, changed my lifestyle to include meditation, prayer, proper diet, exercise, and supplements, the cancer keeps coming back. Am I missing a lesson here that it keeps reoccurring? I am positive I am going to beat it, yet it does get harder with each diagnosis to keep a positive attitude."Chopra's response: "As far as I can tell, you are doing all the right things to recover. You just have to continue doing them until the cancer is gone for good. I know it is discouraging to make great progress only to have it come back again, but sometimes cancer is simply very pernicious and requires the utmost diligence and persistence to eventually overcome it."But others in the cancer care business have begun to speak out against what one has called "the tyranny of positive thinking". When a 2004study found no survival benefits for optimism among lung cancer patients, its lead author, Penelope Schofield, wrote: "We should question whether it is valuable to encourage optimism if it results in the patient concealing his or her distress in the misguided belief that this will afford survival benefits... If a patient feels generally pessimistic... it is important to acknowledge these feelings as valid and acceptable."Whether repressed feelings are themselves harmful, as many psychologists claim, I'm not so sure, but without question there is a problem when positive thinking "fails" and the cancer spreads or eludes treatment. Then the patient can only blame herself: she is not being positive enough; possibly it was her negative attitude that brought on the disease in the first place.I, at least, was saved from this additional burden by my persistent anger – which would have been even stronger if I had suspected, as I do now, that my cancer was iatrogenic, that is, caused by the medical profession. When I was diagnosed, I had been taking hormone replacement therapyfor almost eight years, prescribed by doctors who avowed it would prevent heart disease, dementia, and bone loss. Further studies revealed in 2002 that HRT increases the risk of breast cancer, and, as the number of women taking it dropped sharply in the wake of this news, so did the incidence of breast cancer. So bad science may have produced the cancer in the first place, just as the bad science of positive thinking plagued me throughout my illness.Breast cancer, I can now report, did not make me prettier or stronger, more feminine or spiritual. What it gave me, if you want to call this a "gift", was a very personal, agonising encounter with an ideological force in American culture that I had not been aware of before – one that encourages us to deny reality, submit cheerfully to misfortune and blame only ourselves for our fate.

Edited May 17, 2013 by Syme

[Joshua]

nebitno. ionako već ima čitava diskusija na zaglupljivanju.i da ne ostavim samo trotačku: mušema je moron.

Edited May 17, 2013 by Joshua

[morgana]

boze, kakav retard malignog toka svijesti

[radisa]

nebitno. ionako već ima čitava diskusija na zaglupljivanju.i da ne ostavim samo trotačku: mušema je moron.

Šteta što si obrisala, skroz si OK napisala. :(

[Joshua]

neka, biće još prilika - valjda neću poludeti pa promeniti mišljenje do sledeće ^_^

[Lrd]

Pročitam danas ovo i setim se prastarih tvrdnji da "ima posla, samo lenštine neće da rade", i kako su nedavno ljude zvali da beru kupus i zovu, a JUL Bojić maline i sl. Bravo za novinara koji se potrudio da to sažme.http://www.mondo.rs/s292683/Info/MONDO-_Branje_voca_nije_za_gradsku_decu.html

MONDO: Branje voća nije za gradsku decu05. jun 2013. 09:37 > 09:40Sa dolaskom voćarske sezone novine su pune tekstova "1.500 dinara dnevno na dohvat ruke, a niko neće da radi". Ispitivanjem smo došli do jednostavnog odgovora, radi se o "krvavom poslu". Berite višnje (trešnje, maline...) i lako zaradite hiljade dinara, pozivi su milionima nezaposlenih "lenština" iz gradova koji se s proleća šalju iz klimatizovanih kancelarija novinskih agencija koje prenose vapaje "sa terena" za radnom snagom.Jedan od najnovijih "vapaja" ove sezone bio je iz takovsko-rudničkog kraja gde nema ko da ubere zovu, a sagovornik agencije kaže da "berač lako može da sakupi 20 kilograma tog cveta čija je cena 60 dinara po kilogramu". Propada, kaže zova, a "propada" i 1.500 dinara zarade, doduše bez preciziranja koliko sati rada za tu dnevnicu treba.Kao "lak posao koji niko neće" po novinama se predstavlja i branje malina, višanja, utovar-istovar slame i drugi poljoprivredni radovi kojima sezonski treba ispomoć u radnoj snazi. Retko se ko za uslove rada obrati onima koji takve poslove nude, a još ređe onima koji ih rade.Jedan od onih koji zarađuju tih "1.500 dinara" je i Predrag Dimitrijević, stamena starina od šezdeset i nešto leta. On sa svojom ekipom poslednjih pet godina bere duvan kod istog gazde u selu Uzleće u Mačvi, i zna sve o toj "lakoj zaradi"."Svi berači za koje ja znam su zreli ljudi od četrdeset godina pa naviše, nije to posao za mlađariju. Današnja deca imaju, da tako kažem specifičnu kulturu rada i života. Oni ležu u krevet u vreme kada mi idemo u polje", kaže Dimitrijević.Po vremenu rada, dnevno branje duvana spada u kraće poljoprivredne poslove. Bere se "samo" nekih sedam sati dnevno, ali je mala začkoljica što se počinje oko pola četiri ujutro. Do 11 sati pre podne ekipa je već "u dvorištu" (kod gazde), popije se kafa, pojede kolač i i tada posao počinju oni koji pakuju duvan i stavalju u sušare."I kad bi se neko mlad i neiskusan i pojavio da radi, gazda teško da bi ga uzeo. Duvan je osetljiva biljka, treba znati kako brati , kako pakovati i kako sušiti, a malo ko će da rizikuje rod da bi se neko 'igrao", kaže Dimitrijević.Da sezonski poljoprivredni poslovi nisu za gradsku decu potvrđuje i Breda Milić iz beogradske Omladinske zadruge (OZ) "Bulevar"."Već nekoliko sezona ne dobijamo ponude za takve poslove a i kad bi dobili ne znam da li bi prihvatili da obezbeđujemo ljude. To svuda rade iskusni radnici u godinama, koji imaju i veštine i znanja za brz i precizan rad", kaže menadžerka.Ući u polje u zoru, biti na suncu deset, dvanest sati i to udaljan nekoliko kilometara od vode, nije nimalo lako ni za prekaljene radnike, a kamoli za studente."I kad se pojave rade dva dana, pa treći već fizički ne mogu, a sezona je mesec dana. Gazda onda mora da navrat-nanos traži zamenu, a rod ne čeka nikog, zna se u kom roku mora da se obere, uskladišti, zamrzne...", kaže Breda Milić.I nije tako samo sa malinama, trešnjama, višnjama..., gde je dnevnica i do 1.700 dinara i to uz hranu i smeštaj, ali se mora pedantno nabrati 50 ili 60 kilograma delikatne robe. I na baliranju slame se može zaraditi i 2.000 dinara dnevno, ko može da radi od šest ujutro do osam uveče.Raditi na suncu je paklen posao, ali ništa zgodnije nije ni na hladnom. Kad biste čuli da se u hladnjači za preradu voća može zaraditi i do 80.000 dinara, zadovoljno biste klimnuli glavom. Ali pre nego što počnete da trljate ruke i okrećete telefone, "proguglajte" malo šta to sa sobom nosi, i lako ćete naći iskustva radnika koji su zaradili "tolike pare" u turnusu, ali za 720 sati rada.Ko god je i minut proveo u bilo kojoj hladnjači zna da je tih 111 dinara po satu smešna para. Satnica državnog službenika koji ima prosečnu statističku platu od 41,689 dinara u aprilu 2013. godine (sa punim kancelarijskim komforom, plaćenim bolovanjem i zdravstvenim i penzijskim osiguranjem, regresom, tolim obrokom i plaćenim prevozom...) je 227 dinara.S druge strane, imate i iskustva gazda, koji se čude kako "tamo negde" mogu da plate radnike manje kada oni nude "i 170 dinara po satu" sezonskog posla, a ne mogu da u Srbiji nađu kvalitetne radnike, već im dolaze iz Bosne ili čak Bugarske.Gradskoj deci, tako , ostaju samo "gradski poslovi" – kelnerisanje, prodaja sladoleda, utov-istovar kamiona, rad u kol centrima i sve popularnije promocije.Tu je već šansa da se posao nađe preko agencija i omladinskih/studentskih zadruga veća, ali ne značajno, sudeći po žalbama zainteresovanih kojih je "pun internet".Breda Milić iz OZ "Bulevar" kaže da je ovakvih ponuda posla u Beogradu s proleća više oko trideset odsto. Na takvim poslovima, srećnici koji ih dobiju u moru tražilaca, mogu zaraditi od 130 do 150 dinara po satu. Kako su to povremeni poslovi, tu smena obično ne traje puno radno vreme od osam sati , pa dnevnica ispadne oko 800, 900 dinara.Znatno veća dnevnica je za promocije, ide i do 1.600 dinara, ali i to se radi tek po nekoliko dana, a na isplatu zarađenih para se čeka i po četiri meseca. Tako da ako ste smislili da u junu zaradite za džeparac (jer od ovakvih poslova se "ne živi") za letovanje, računajte da ćete "na more" u septembru ili oktobru.U Beogradu je situacija još i dobra jer u drugim gradovima po Srbiji takvu "sezonu" ni ne osećaju, kaže nam Sreten Petaković iz užičke OZ "Mladost" i Veselin Srefanović iz OZ "Biznis" iz Subotice."Posla koji se nudi je sve mane i manje, otprilike oko dvadeset odsto godišnje u protekle četiri godine. Veliki dražvni i društveni sistemi su propali, a od privatnika ako neko i nudi neki poslić, izbegava omladinske zadruge da ne bi platio još 28 ili 78 odsto poreza i doprinosa na neto cenu rada", kaže Petaković.U Užicu "Valjaonica bakra", "Prvi partizan" ili "Putevi užice" više nisu one firme od nekad gde je uvek bilo povremenih poslova, privatnici zapošljavaju na crno, zadruge ne mogu da rade sa fizičkim licima, a još po unutrašnjosti trpe monopol beogradskih zadruga koje ekskluzivno rade sa velikim kompanijam , tako da prespektiva nije nimalo svetla.Za berače i druge poljoprivredne radove "Mladosti" se tako niko ni ne obraća, jer ti poslovi su potpuno "na crno". Berače maline i drugog voća traže i oko Užica, ali je problem kako stići do posla, a ne potrošiti na to pola dnevnice za put.Takvog posla nema ni u Subotici, kaže Veselin Stefanović iz OZ "Biznis"."Manuelni rad se sve više zamenjuje mašinama – viljuškarima, pakericama... Dođe poneki posao utovarivanja za 5.000 dinara koje kao dnevnicu podeli troje ljudi ili malo duže angažovanje na nekoj građevini, gde se zaradi i više od 1.500 dinara za deset sati rada, i to je to. Kad se preko nas radi jedan dan, plaćeno je zdravstveno i penzijsko za taj dan, a drugde se toleriše gola dnevnica na ruke i onda nije čudo što posla nema", kaže Stefanović.

[Аврам Гојић]

Rispek. Najzad neko da to objasni.

[pacey defender]

Korektan text, samo je autor malo trapavo prikazao "gradsku decu".Dalje, ovaj text uopšte ne razbija predrasudu da u Srbiji "ima posla". Iz ovog texta, zaključujem da u Srbiji zapravo ima posla, ali da je nedovoljno plaćen.

Edited June 5, 2013 by pacey defender

[Prospero]

1 faktografska greška - selo u mačvi nije "uzleće" nego "uzveće".

[Lrd]

Korektan text, samo je autor malo trapavo prikazao "gradsku decu".Dalje, ovaj text uopšte ne razbija predrasudu da u Srbiji "ima posla". Iz ovog texta, zaključujem da u Srbiji zapravo ima posla, ali da je nedovoljno plaćen.

Koliko sam ja razumeo, ovaj tekst razbija predrasudu da bilo ko može da radi u njivi i da je samo stvar izbora ako neće, a kao odgovor na mantre "ima posla, samo se potrudi", uz neizbežno da treba biti pozitivan.Mislim, verujem da je autor mlađi, pa zato piše o mladima, a mislim da bi bilo daleko depresivnije da je umesto mladih uzeo grupaciju ljudi od recimo 50 godina koji su postali višak i ostali bez posla, a ceo radni vek proveli ne radeći fizički posao.edit: Mislim, ja stvarno nemam ništa protiv fizičkog posla, štaviše. Tezgario sam ga više puta i mnogo je to slatko: radiš i odmah dobiješ pare. Ali, to su neke stvari koje su stvarno nezahtevne - istovar šlepera nečega nelomljivog ili provera hiljada upaljača ili tako nešto.Svaka fizikalija koja zahteva ikakvu veštinu ili dodatnu fizičku otpornost (istovar cementa, recimo) se gazdi jednostavno ne isplati, i to ako uzememo u obzir da prosečni građanin to može da izdrži. Edited June 5, 2013 by Lrd

[Hella]

stvarno je objasnio, ni ja ne bih bolje.

"Svi berači za koje ja znam su zreli ljudi od četrdeset godina pa naviše, nije to posao za mlađariju. Današnja deca imaju, da tako kažem specifičnu kulturu rada i života. Oni ležu u krevet u vreme kada mi idemo u polje", kaže Dimitrijević.

Edited June 5, 2013 by Hella

[Аврам Гојић]

Korektan text, samo je autor malo trapavo prikazao "gradsku decu".

Ma fora je sto je branje voca zajeban posao koji zahteva vestinu i stecenu izdrzljivost, inace neces isterati normu, a na kraju krajeva nece te ni primiti da beres ako ne izgledas kao neko ko zna sta radi. Primilo se u narodu da "voce nema ko da bere, a mladi sede u kaficima"....to su dve cinjenice koje nemaju nikakve veze jedna sa drugom.

[ficfiric]

Malko i novinar sere. Kako branje visanja nije posao za gradsku decu? Sta ima tu neizdrzivo? Radi se dvanaest sati, ali samo par dana, ne traje berba mesecima. Koliko puta sam samo ja isao... Problem je sto je svake godine taj posao sve slabije placen.

[/size]Ma fora je sto je branje voca zajeban posao koji zahteva vestinu i stecenu izdrzljivost, inace neces isterati normu,

Nema norme. Koliko naberes, toliko te plate. Edited June 5, 2013 by ficfiric

[MayDay]

Ja sam jednom braa maline i spičila me sunčanica. I videla sam zmijicu na čokotu.Posle sam radila ko hostesa na sajmu automobila.Ovo prvo nije bilo za pare, ali kad se porede dva posla, oba su ogavna. Preporodila sam se kad sam kao klinka dospela da radim prevodjenje za kintu.