Thus my beloved, and often, when I slap her behind out of the blue. She is citing Paul Müller’s memorable words uttered on occasion many years ago. Whenever he saw the slapping of women’s behinds in Motovun, that is. “The longer I live,” she mumbles glumly as if to herself, “the more I realize how right he actually was.” As a German, he supposedly had an understanding of Balkan men well beyond that of the rugged region. And I am most happy to record this eulogy of my dead friend. Just after I slapped her behind once again, too.