Well I didn’t get far yesterday with writing. I thought we were going to have much of the day to ourselves but Dragan came up to our place and said he knew a nice place for a walk so off we went at 11 and didn’t return until nearly 4. We drove west again toward Knjaževac but took a right turn and headed north into the hills/mountains we’d admired in previous days when passing by. The flat approach through amber and straw colored fields of corn was scenic, as were the (narrow and rough of course) roads through villages and forest. I love driving through the villages. Walking is better because when in the car we pass the old homes and farms too quickly to fully notice all there is to be noticed, but even the brief glimpses of scenes so foreign to me feed my soul.
Each village has its own slight variations (barn styles, brick patterns, roof styles, gates), but much is similar. Things we see include – dogs- chained up or loose in the yard of the compound, and dogs lolling by (or in the middle of) the road. Cats napping in shade or sun depending on the weather. Old, and I mean 40-60 years old, cars parked on the streets and in the dirt yards. Mostly old houses, barns and out buildings in varying conditions- many partially collapsing, many about to collapse, many abandoned, but some still occupied. Typically if occupied there are flower boxes or potted plants outside, hinting at what matters to people even amid their poverty and dying way of life. All manner of farm equipment, tractors, tools, buckets, pipes, crates, piles of roof tiles, stacks of firewood, old weathered lumber, and junk. Of course animals too- pigs, chickens, ducks, geese. Sometimes goats. And in the fields, sheep.
I don’t know if we will ever come here again but if we do I thought of a new book idea- I’d love to spend time walking in villages and taking photos then compiling a photo book honoring and commemorating the now nearly extinct village life. In my ideal world I would talk to descendants, or those still hanging on in the village, and write short anecdotes or histories of the villages in the pictures.
Back to our walk yesterday. Dragan missed our turn and we roamed considerably out of our way but finally found the road, very bumpy and narrow winding up the mountainside with grand views through breaks in the fall colored small trees of the flat wide valley below and hills and mountains across the valley. Gorgeous. We parked outside the gate to an extra tall tower adorned with various cell and radio receivers and emitters. Two workmen were tethered to the tower, working on something. Dragan said you used to be able to start the walk from that property but it is no longer allowed, so we walked a little ways down the road in the direction we came from then turned onto an unused rutted rocky road that passed through a forest with small trees and many scattered rocks and boulders until we came to a gorgeous viewpoint of cliffs and the valleys on both sides of the mountain. It was windy but not too cold. Clouds and sunlight were dramatic. We hiked on a tricky path to a higher viewpoint where we sat and had snacks. Dragan wanted to take us to one more higher rocky viewpoint but Jim’s knee and vertigo, and my tendency to be satisfied enough rather than pushing myself further kept us there rather than pressing onward. We eventually turned and made our way back to the car.
On the ride home I noticed my neck tightening and feared a headache might be coming and indeed my pain increased throughout the evening, and persists this morning.
When we got back we had cheese and rakija on their covered terrace (new floor this year), then walked to the restaurant on the edge of town. We had told them when we first arrived that we wanted to take them to dinner while we were there. They reluctantly accepted our offer because they knew we wanted to offer something back to them in appreciation of their kindness to us. But during our visit they repeated the rule they said last year when we would thank them for something. Dragan would say, ‘no thank-you.’ This year, since we were not allowed to say thank you I took to putting my hands together and bowing, so they started saying ‘namaste’ in response.
We had wanted to take them to dinner as a small gesture of thanks for all their generous hospitality. We have eaten almost all our meals with them, plus coffees, games each evening, and excursions involving long drives four days in a row. Today Dragan finally has to work (he sprained his finger 6 weeks ago and has a splint and has been on sick leave), otherwise I’m sure he would have wanted to take us somewhere today too.
At 5 we four followed the path by the very diminished Timok River, extra low because of the drought. We heard no frogs in contrast to last spring when we heard so many. The traditional little wooden restaurant they recommended was pleasant – simple, made from wood, with traditional decor. The food was not our favorite. Salads were good (the usual- cukes, tomatoes and cheese) and the sesame topped big fluffy disc of bread was great. But the ‘chicken steaks’ were hard to comprehend. The flavor was good but there was skin (not crisp) and bits of tendon and fat blobs that I had to covertly spit out. But we enjoyed being together and they seemed to like the meal very much. The cost for the four of us was around$60. Jim and i often spend more than that for the two of us back in Seattle.
We walked home through the big city park next to the other side of the river. At one time, in the Yugo era, it must have been a nice place with outdoor gym, skate park, soccer courts, tennis courts, playgrounds, a miniature golf course (closed for years), and a fenced in zoo with a non working fountain. The only animals in the zoo now are a half dozen peacocks and a handful of other big birds we can’t identify. But kids were playing soccer, and the tennis courts were busy, so despite the need for repairs and updates the locals use the facilities anyway.
As we moseyed through the park a sweet young dog adopted us and walked us all the way home. As always my heart feels sad about the strays so hungry for love, and food too.
Once home we played a game of Tok. The ladies won, again. When we are in their apartment Zorica (not quite a chain smoker but pretty close) smokes her home-rolled cigarettes. They do not bother me as much as commercially made cigs. And she always opens a window out of consideration for us.
When we stood to go upstairs they gave us a bunch of plums form their tree. Everyone here gives us too much, way more than we can eat but when we try to say give us less they ignore us. We always feel bad to waste the food but we can’t give it to our next hosts because they, too, have an over-abundance. If we had a blender we could make smoothies, but we never see them in the places we rent. Sometimes, when we are able to buy the ingredients I will make a crisp to share with hosts, but often I don’t have what I need.
My headache was worsening and I had a poor sleep. I woke at 4:30. Zorica brought up freshly made savory French toast. She told us its name but I forget it now. It starts with b. Dragan was at work but she invited us to come down for coffee after she did some chores. She told us about a good friend who is very near death. She has been talking with her every day on the phone and feels very sad. Her friend is only in her 50’s. When we left after coffee she said to come back at around 2 for lunch. She served delicious stuffed peppers.
Since Dragan would not be home till 7 we told her we would go to town for dinner. She said to please come down after dinner for another round of Tok.
Jim and I walked to town past a Yugoslav era concrete apartment building then along a street lined with mid sized houses set close together, then crossed the languishing Timok on a pedestrian bridge. We are happy to know about the very convenient shortcut across the weedy tracks behind the train station. Footing is a bit treacherous. We always pause and take pictures there of the station itself and the old infrastructure. There are only a few short passenger trains that pass through there each day but 10-20 freight trains pass through. Next we navigated several turns through narrow maze like passages to get to the city streets. The restaurant we intended to go to was closed even though Google said it was open, so we walked through the city to another restaurant, (2 Brothers) we’ve eaten at several times. The salad came with spicy peppers. Sesame topped bread was delicious. We only ordered one entry (chicken and fries) because we knew it would be big enough to share and we were not that hungry since we had eaten peppers with Zorica earlier.
We stopped at a store. Stray dogs, probably 10-12, laid on the sidewalk outside. Then we went to an ATM associated with a German bank for cash. We enjoyed our walk home. We like being familiar with towns and routes that we’ve now used many times over the years. And I love feeling safe, even in the dark. Because we are fit and able to navigate obstacles, broken (or no) sidewalks, and uneven surfaces I actually enjoy the challenges involved in walking over here. And as I have mentioned, I don’t tire of seeing the wide assortments of houses, yards, shops, apartments, and half done or abandoned construction projects. On our way home it was also nice to finally see puddles (it rained a bit while we were eating).
Once home we went downstairs, drank coffee and played Tok. We won again. 7-3 women vs men. It’s fun playing them despite the lack of shared language.
We asked them if Croatian Serbs and Serbian Serbs are different. They said yes. Serbs in Serbia lived for centuries under the Ottomans. In Croatia they lived under the Austro-Hungarians who are perceived as being more cultured and European. They said contemporary Serbs in Croatia are still considered to be more cultured, and Serbia Serbs rougher and more expressive. But they are all brothers.
My headache returned but ibuprofen helped the next morning. We went down for coffee, then packed and cleaned. I could easily have stayed there longer because I feel so comfortable and at home. They gave us a parting gift of Zajačar coasters (Dragan wrote a note on them saying to know that they will be thinking of us). They also gave a jar of their homemade ajvar (pepper spread). They only charged us $35/night and refused our offer to give a tip for gas. So I told them they inspire me to be kind and generous with others, and that seemed to mean more to them than receiving more money.
We parted with hugs. They said if we can’t go to Zajačar again they will happily travel to meet us elsewhere- Italy, France, Montenegro or western Serbia. They do not foresee ever traveling to America which is far and expensive. Every year they allot 1000 Euros for a trip to Greece or somewhere in this region. A trip to the U.S. for the two of them would be 8-10 times that.
Even though we love them and their place and the hills, fields and green mountains in SE Serbia it is a far drive and I doubt we will go there again even if we return to Serbia. And if the Canadian, Australian and Chinese companies have their way much more destruction lies ahead for the land and people there. It is already painful to see what has been done so far. It might be too much to witness what is likely ahead. But, one day at a time. We departed feeling nourished and grateful.
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