Wednesday we ate breakfast, hung out at our place, then set off for a walk at around 11. Milesa and Zoran had things to do at the village and said we could meet in the evening for coffee, which was fine with us. While we love engaging with people and are grateful for hospitality, we also like being on our own, and not pressuring hosts to tend to us.
We took a walk we’ve done a couple times before, up behind the city. From our place we needn’t go far (about 5 minutes) before accessing very rural roads and bucolic scenery.
Old wooden barns and sheds. Old and new houses, mostly brick, or large orange blocks and concrete. Abandoned houses. Gardens, some neat, others disheveled. Old tools. Tractors. Piles of roof tiles or boards. Firewood. Junk. Graves. Trampolines. Garden statuettes. Bikes. Toys. Flower beds. Berries. Fields (corn). Orchards. Animals (mostly sheep and chickens with a few pigs here and there. Sometimes goats. Cows are rare. As are horses). Corn cobs. Old cars, newer cars. Dogs in yards. Stray dogs. Very occassionally cars pass by on the little roads. Death notices posted on trees and sides of house.
Ever changing views. Hills, forests. Fields. Dried flowers. Haystacks. Butterflies. Trash ( not too much on this particular route) . Squished plums on the road. Compost heaps.
We wended up and up. The views in various directions continually changed. We say hi in Serbian when we pass people, but didn’t see many people on this afternoon. An old man started talking to us as we passed by his yard. We explained we spoke only a small amount of Serbian but he kept going, as many people do. I wondered if he might have dementia, because we were communicating accurately in Serbian but he didn’t seem to understand. A woman came off the porch and joined the conversation. She seemed to understand us better and tried to explain to the man that we were not going to the monastery but were doing a loop and would not be passing by again. If I understood him correctly I think he wanted us to come talk with them after our walk, or maybe sell us some produce?
We stood under the high power lines (the buzzing always gives me the creeps) where we paused to see the Drina far below us, and the hills of Bosnia across the dammed river. We would have liked to have seen the river before the big dam was built.
We continued on. I love the private burial spots. I wish it was legal to bury our loved ones on our property in Seattle but I understand that could be problematic. I wish we had land somewhere where I could be buried.
The day was sunny and warm. A wide range of butterflies flitted about. We saw the occasional small lizard. There were wildflowers but many were dried out. I like the sounds they make in the breeze.
We descended the hills and meandered back through town to our place. The walk took about 2 and a half hours.
We rested a bit then went back out and walked to town for dinner adding another couple miles to our total. We got money and ate (outside of course) at a place at the end of the plaza where we had eaten once before. Food was fine. Simple. We spent $24 for chicken, fries, a chicken wrap, salad, excellent homemade bread, and a big bottle of mineral water.
Before heading home we stopped at a grocery store to buy ingredients to make a fruit crisp for the next day, using pears and plums given to us.
When we got home Zoran’s car wasn’t there and lights in the house were out. I figured they must still be at their village. I sent Milesa a text to say we were too tired to come down for coffee as we had previously discussed doing.She texted back saying she was in the ER because she had been stung (on her breast) by a murder hornet (common over here). We later learned she had been stung on the stomach the week before. Luckily she was ok after they gave her an IV and antihistamine. They arrived home shortly after that. We agreed to meet in the morning for coffee and discuss the day’s plans.
…
The next morning we were about to make breakfast when Milesa invited us for coffee (and so I could borrow a pan to bake my crisp in and to get some laundry detergent).
We drank (Serbian) coffee and rakija. We were about to take our leave when she said she was making breakfast for us. We appreciate these gestures so much but feel bad being given so much, especially given their incomes. Her pension is about $300 a month. His isn’t much more than that. But they own their house free and clear and have income from the rental upstairs. And they own their place in the village. They are able to grow and raise much of their food. She served eggs, yogurt-milk, cured salami-like meat. Kaymak dairy spread. Pita bread (not what we call pita- theirs is layers of thin dough and cheese). In addition she put out a loaf of bread.
After breakfast we parted with a pan and laundry soap and were told they were going to the village to make rakija but Zoran would come back and pick us up between 2-3 to take us to their village.
I did laundry, made a crisp (hoping the settings on both the washer and the oven were good choices). We hung the laundry over the porch. The morning was warm and pleasantly breezy.
I wrote. During our stay I was occasionally disturbed by nearby pig noises. It sounded distraught. I wondered if this was a normal sound for a pig to make.
Zoran came from the village to pick us up at around 2:45 and drove us to the village in his old very batteredVW.
The big strong border officer was going to ignore us and let us cross without checking ID (he knows Zoran well because he used to be a Border guard at this location, and crosses the border almost every day to go to and from the village), but Zoran told him we were Americans and needed to have our entry and exit recorded. For some unknown reason even though the Bosnian guard looked at our passports he didn’t stamp them. He just entered info on his tablet. But the Serbian guards stamped our passports both coming and going.
The road up to their house is steep and the parking tricky but Zoran is adept. It was hot when we arrived at their place on the hill in their village. Giant hornets buzzed about. They use a racket for swatting them. They also keep a trap (bottle with beer in it) hanging nearby. There must have been thirty hornets in it.
They don’t live in this house as it needs some updating. But they use the main upper room for hanging out when the weather doesn’t allow for sitting outside around the back. When I was there last year I was able to use the toilet in the very dark old bathroom, but this year they said it wasn’t working. Melissa showed me to a very odd outhouse. The little wood shack had wooden boards on the floor and an odd shaped hole cut out of a few of the boards. But unlike the outhouses I’ve used where there is a raised box to sit on, this just had an opening in the floor but it was full of toilet paper to the level of the floor. I was quite puzzled by this arrangement.
The yard has an old apple tree and a table under it. There is also a concrete sink with a tap for the clear spring water, which we drank and was delicious. There are also several outbuildings including a chicken house and a corn crib. Below the corn crib is where they have a still for making rakija, and a place for making a fire over which to hang a stew pot for cooking. Six or seven chickens (used for eggs) ran around constantly underfoot. Milesa petted them when they came to her.
On the ground floor of the house in back next to the yard are several rooms that open to the outside. One is where they raise the chickens that they use for meat. The other is where they had huge vats of plums used to make the rakija.
Rakija was in process when we arrived. Zoran had a tool that he stuck in a bottle of rakija to measure its potency. They make two kinds- one that is mild and only 35% alcohol, the other ‘spicy’ , is 50%. The latter one they ‘double bake’.
Melisa served us coffee, then started a fire on a stepping stone. We were puzzled by this until we saw them place stones around it and a grate on top. Zoran began grilling an assortment of fresh meats.
Meanwhile, two women arrived, neighbors from down the hill, a mother and daughter, Gorana. The mother is kuma (similar to god-mother but a stronger role) to Zoran’s and Milesa’s kids. We had met the daughter last year when walking by one of her fields down the hill. Neither speak English but both were warm and friendly. We don’t mind at all when Serbs talk amongst themselves rather than stopping to try to make us understand. We can pick out a lot of words and often get the gist, but also we frequently forget words we once learned, or simply don’t know the words at all. But we like the sound of the language and I take pleasure in witnessing the warmth between them when they talk. The traditional Serbian music playing from an old radio added to the village ambiance.
When the meat was ready they placed it on the table in a big pot along with juicy tomatoes, crispy cucumbers, small onions, a jar of pickles, bread, homemade cheese, and bright red peppers. All was delicious. When everyone was done Milesa served the plum-pear-apricot crisp I had made. It was extra yummy and everyone except for the older woman ate multiple helpings. I am always happy when I have a chance to contribute something to a meal. It rarely happens.
The neighbors left and Milesa and Zoran cleaned up. It was pleasantly quiet, just the sounds of crickets, the trickle of rakija and Milesa and Zoran talking with each other. When Milesa was done cleaning the three of us walked down their long road, past huge fields of ripe squash and other veggies, while Zoran finished his tasks. In addition to the small garden by the house the couple has a large plot of land across the toad where they have an orchard and a large area of raspberries. This plot goes all the way to the Drina. They have another big plot down the road where they grow berries and other things. It was a pleasant early evening as we drove back across the border. They invited us in for coffee but we deferred till the next morning.
We feel so grateful and blessed and lucky to be treated so well by people here. I come away wanting to be more generous and welcoming to others.
(I forgot to add pix from the walk the day before. Will post separately)
making rakija. Back of the village house. Grilling. Neighbors from down the hill. Chickens. Some of the food. View from the back yard table. Doing dishes. Odd outhouse and back garden. Garden down the hill.
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