This morning, like most Sunday mornings there were several wedding processions that drove down the street adjacent to my building. Apparently tradition dictates that all of the cars going from the church or the city hall to the reception must honk the entire way there. It doesn’t make for a pleasant wakeup call. And though I can hope that the cold weather here will decrease the number of weddings, that is unlikely because the vast majority of weddings here take place because the couple is expecting a child. Or at least this is what my colleagues have told me.

After my usual Sunday cleaning ritual, I decided to brave the clear, cold, and windy weather and talk a walk on Gorica Hill, the park in the center of the city. Once bundled up I think I must have looked like the Unabomber gone Barbie (dark blue hooded sweatshirt, sunglasses, pink workout pants, pink gloves, and a pink scarf). I strapped on my iPod and headphones and set off. At the entrance to the park there is a charming old church. As I approached the entrance to the park, a crowd of people came towards me in varying states of dress (the older among them in what I would consider wedding appropriate clothing and the young people in jeans…since when do you wear jeans to a wedding?). Passing by this wedding party coming out of a church, I began to consider the role of religion in Montenegro and in post-communist societies in general.

In Montenegro, the majority of the population are self-proclaimed Orthodox Christians (in the local language “Pravaslav”). Some belong to the Montenegrin Pravaslav Church while others adhere to the Serbian Pravaslav Church. From what I understand, there is no difference in religious rituals of the two, rather the Serbian vs. Montenegrin church split is a reflection of the politics of the times.

The small non-Pravaslav population is made up of Catholics (mostly people of Albanian or Croatian origin) and Muslims (of Albanian origin). There is also a growing evangelical Christian community. This surprised me at first, but upon further reflection I have come to see that it is quite logical—the fall of Communism and the difficult years that followed left a “clean slate” for a rebirth of religion. People living in miserable conditions are likely to absorb religion, notions of a higher being, etc. I have encountered at least two missionaries from Germany here and my Serbian language teacher is a member of the Seventh Day Adventist Church here in Podgorica.

Outwardly, Montenegro does not seem to be a religious society. While there are many churches, attendance is mostly elderly people. Yet many claim that religion is making a comeback here. What leads me to believe this? First, my informal research (much of my job is talking to people and they are always eager to share their take on Montenegrin society—and I never have to ask!). Second the fact that soy cheese and burek without cheese or meat are readily available. In the Orthodox religion there are various days in a year when people are supposed to go on “fast.” When I first heard of this, it confused me because people would talk about what they can eat on a “fast” day. Apparently “fasting” isn’t fasting as I would think of it (you don’t eat) but more like Catholic Lent with certain foods being on restriction, namely those coming from animals. This is wonderful for me because I don’t eat meat and am allergic to dairy products!

Even for those who have not embraced religion, it is still a defining factor in the identity of Montenegrins, Serbs, Croats, Bosnians, and Kosovars. Each of these groups seems to define themselves first and foremost in terms of their religion. In Montenegro and elsewhere in the former Yugoslavia, most religious groups have self-segregated—there are certain typically Albanian municipalities, namely Ulcinj and some towns in the north that border Kosovo.