Saturday lunch with family at Mio’s and walk to a female Monastery
It’s Sunday morning. I just greeted ‘grandpa Dule’ our host’s neighbor who is called Grandpa (Deda) because he has been here a long time and was the ‘first neighbor’ to move here. I am on the small covered deck at our apartment in the back of a house perched on the hill next to the spa in Banja Koviljaca Serbia. We stayed here last year and despite its quirks we are comfortable. I could happily stay here much longer than the 6 days we plan to stay. The spa with its vast grounds and 150 year old buildings, and its proximity to the forested Gućevo mountain are what give this small town good vibes. The Romans used the springs here for healing, then the Ottomans in the 1500’s.
Apart from the spa grounds the town itself is typical of very small towns in Serbia. There are several small markets, a handful of crowded tiny shops, a police station, a couple bakeries, and a half dozen or so restaurants, most of which serve similar foods. In recent years several boring large boxy apartments have been built to house the workers (many from China or other distant places) employed at the new car parts factory that opened in the past 7-8 years. There is now only one ATM in town and it’s not a good one so we hope to get cash later today in Loznica when we visit relatives.
Yesterday we met Lazo, Ružica, and their daughters Nevena (almost 16), and Katarina (almost 14) at 8:30 am outside the LIDL market in Loznica where they live. We don’t all fit in one car so our routine is to follow them to wherever we are going. But first we needed gas. We stopped at the closest station but learned that chain is a Russian company and due to EU and U.S. sanctions one can only use Serbian cash or Serbian bank card to buy their gas. So we found a different station nearby.
The scenic wending route (heading east and then south out of town) was a familiar one as we have now gone that way at least 4 times over the years to various destinations. Despite my familiarity now with the landscape, architecture, orange roofs, dilapidated outbuildings, and other village scenes I am still struck by its ‘foreign-ness’ (to me). I could happily wander these roads for months, noticing details, engaging with people, putting dogs, taking photos, and, in my daydreams I imagine sketching.
This year we did not stop in the small city of Krupanj for coffee as we usually do because Lazo’s friend, Mio, who we visited 4 years ago, invited us to have coffee at his mountain top farm before setting off on a hike. Once off the main road that passes through Krupanj the road to Mio’s is one and a half car widths wide except slightly wider where it passes through tiny villages. Once past the last village the road winds upward through forest, past signs for various monasteries, finally taking us to Mio’s steep rutted rocky road to his large mountaintop organic farm and small country house.
Mio, a very overweight man, but less so than when we saw him 4 years ago, greeted us warmly. He said we look younger than when he last saw us. Numerous dogs and some cats lounged about in the shade of the house and cars on this treeless ridge with vast 360 degree views of forested hills and flat lowlands. On a clear day one can see Belgrade through biniculars. Jim and I both are entranced by the view and doubt we would ever tire of it, although in winter it’s snowy, windy and cold. We were told that one of the dear little puppies had been taken into town with its litter (not sure if they were abandoned or left with someone) and at less than 7 weeks old he found his way back up the mountain to Mio’s. It took the little puppy 4 days. We learned one of the other dogs had been bitten on the nose by a poisonous snake but recovered and is doing fine. And we learned that Mio’s son shot 5 wolves this year. Wolf hunting is legal with a permit.
Our leisurely coffee time was quintessentially Balkan. Rushing is forbidden (except when driving). We sat on benches around a long sturdy wooden table in the main living-dining-bed room with a wall of windows looking out at a beautiful view. An assortment of icons and a censer hung on the wall next to the table. Mio’s hired woman brought small glasses and rakija to the table and we toasted. Then she made us Turkish coffee. I thought that would be it, but then she brought over a loaf of her freshly baked bread made in a traditional way along with their homemade cheese and kajmak (creamy dairy spread). Now we were done, i thought. But then she brought us a platter of home smoked meats raised, butchered and prepared by Mio. All delicious. Mio doesn’t sell much of his meat but people come to him with meat and ask him to smoke it for them.
Finally we set off for the monastery of Vasilija of Ostrog, a small monastery for women. We followed a dirt road up and down and up again past tall grassy amber fields, an occasional small farm, and through pine forests. Views of distant hills and small mountains were beautiful in the early fall light. A variety of butterflies flitted around us. At one spot we could see Mio’s house perched high on the hill across the valley. It was hot but there was a pleasant breeze that kept us from feeling too hot. As we walked we chatted with each other in various configurations. The girls were especially interested in schools in America, and how home schooled kids (such as my niece Rachel’s kids) are evaluated for consideration for university.
At one point we passed a guy by the side of the road splitting trees with a potentially deadly machine with a long pointer ‘screw’ that he dug into the end of the fallen tree to split it open. Jim was fascinated by this old vehicle/machine and he and Lazo stopped to talk with the guy. When Jim said he was from America the guy handed him the beer he had been drinking and insisted that Jim drink it. To be polite Jim took a few sips and tried to indicate he couldnt drink more because we were hiking. The man wanted Jim to chug it but Jim apologized and handed the beer back.
When we reached the monastery, protected by a high wooden wall, we saw a sign next to the entry gate listing the rules for entry. Shirts and short pants are not allowed, nor are sleeveless tops. Photography is also not allowed inside the walls. A nun greeted us and showed the females among us how to wrap black skirts around our legs to cover them, and gave each of us a scarf to cover our heads and shoulders. At other monasteries we’ve visited that have strict dress codes they allowed men to wrap fabric around their legs, but not here. Only we women were allowed. A young nun and a nun probably in her late 50’s, who it turns out is the ‘Mother’ accompanied us into the church. The Mother nun asked if I was Orthodox and when I said no she showed me the finger position to use when crossing myself, and showed me the points to touch (opposite of the way Catholics do it). Ružica and her daughters bowed and crossed themselves and kissed various icons. Ružica gave me cash to place by an icon of my choice. I slowly moved around the church looking at various icons. One, of a young teenage girl, especially caught my attention. I wanted to know more about her but didn’t want to ask and disturb the quiet in the small church. As we were backing out of the church (standard protocol) the Mother nun hugged me, held my face in her hands, looked at me penetratingly but not invasively, and kissed me. She gave me a small icon of Christ. She followed us outside and hugged me some more, kissed me some more, held my face again and gazed into my eyes (soul), and invited Jim and me to return next year with our son to get baptized. I had said that while I am not Orthodox I felt a strong connection to the Saints and God in this church. It was true, I felt a tangible presence of the Saints and God there, maybe the most I’ve felt in any monastery we have visited. The young nun, who spoke some English, said when I am baptized I will feel it even more. Maybe so. I have no intention of getting baptized but I really did feel a strong positive presence and ‘vibes’ in the church and expressed through the Mother nun. Often when we have visited monasteries the monks and nuns have tended to ignore us or be stern and not especially welcoming. Not so at this place.
Interestingly my neck and shoulder have been feeling much better since my visit to the monastery, the best I’ve felt since February. Could be coincidence, but I certainly believe and have experienced healing through interacting with some people.
We stood around chatting with the 2 nuns and Jim and Lazo. The young nun had fetched a plate of cookies and kept offering them to us. We parted and began our walk back to Mio’s. Half way through our walk back Mio showed up in his yellow panel van to drive us the rest of the way. The girls sat up front while the rest of us sat on short stools in the back of the van. We had to hold on and try to keep our weight centered so the stools would not tip over as we bounced on the dirt road.
Once back at Mio’s we stood around the hot ashes where the pot of meat had been buried. Mio swept the ashes off the lid and removed it to reveal a full pot of a variety of meat, peppers and other veggies. We went inside and again sat around the long table and were served the traditional clear broth chicken soup with tiny bits of vegies and noodles. More bread and kajmak and cheese were offered as well as plates of juicy red tomatoes and crisp cucumbers. Then the big pot was placed on the table along with a ladle. Each person served themselves. There was chicken, lamb and pig, all delicious! As is usually the case here people put their bread on the table, not on a plate. They also are much more rekaxed about germs, using their personal forks or hands to spear or grab things from common servisna vessels. At some point two burly guys sat down with us with no introductions and ate with us and left when they were done. I think one might have been related to the helper woman. The other, I imagine, was a worker. Mio hires and feeds many workers during harvest time. His biggest crop is raspberries but he grows many things. After eating our fill a big bag of fresh purple grapes was brought to the table for dessert. Delicious!
We parted ways in the later afternoon. Before we left Mio said if we really like it there he would let us build a house on his property. It’s tempting because as i said the spot is gorgeous and there is fresh spring water. But it’s far from any town and winters are harsh and we are old enough that we do not want to commit to such a demanding lifestyle. Mio said if we don’t want to build a house we can at least come any time and stay for free in his house. He made the same offer when we were there four years ago.
We followed Lazo much of the way back to town. When we arrived back at our house Jim rested a while then we walked over to Contact for dinner but the restaurant had recently lost power and could not serve food, so we tried a restaurant on the spa grounds which actually was pretty good. That evening, and others, before returning home we joined the people sitting on benches around the central fountain at the spa. Every evening people of all ages and capacities sit or walk around the fountain, chatting and enjoying the evening.
We also befriended a sweet stray dog. There are many. We wish we could find them good homes.
BELOW
2 views from our walk, pre walk snack, monastery (being painted by the nuns), lunch is in the pot, fountain at the spa. Final picture is Zora in Zagreb. Can’t figure out how to delete it!
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