More Hospitality. Mrzenica Serbia with painter, Zoran Andjelkovic

We left the dirty house in Kruševac at about 10:30 and drove north on the little road on the west side of the Morava River for about 20 minutes until we reached the collection of houses that calls itself the village of Mrzenica. Artist Zoran Andjelovic was waiting for us in his old blue Renault parked on the side of the road. He pointed to where Jim should park and when we got out of our car he gave us welcoming hugs even though we had never met him before. He then directed us to get into his car and he drove across the road onto a fabulously rutted, rocky road, across train tracks, over a washout and on up the hill to his property. His friendly low-to-the-ground dog greeted us, then his wife, Kaja, emerged from the main house and introduced herself and her sister who was roasting peppers on the wood stove in the yard. 

I first ‘met’ Zoran on Facebook about a year and a half ago through a mutual FB friend (an older Serb woman who I’ve also never met in person). I liked his posts of his paintings for their vivid colors and interesting and often symbolic imagery. His paintings tend to feature historical or political figures, Serbian soldiers, himself and family members, monasteries and other Orthodox imagery, trees, bees, stars, flowers and other nature related things. 

Last summer before leaving on our 2022 trip here I noticed he posted pictures of visitors to his studio, so I wrote and asked if he welcomes visitors. I told him briefly about my connection to Serbia. He replied immediately and said yes, and invited us to come see him. We made a plan to visit him but because Jim and I got Covid when we arrived in Serbia we had to cancel our visit with him. But this year we were able to follow through and meet him.

He led us into the top floor of the old house his grandparents built of wood and mud that Zoran uses as his studio. In summer he paints in the upstairs room, in winter downstairs where it’s warmer. He sat us down and poured us rakija (from grapes). We toasted, ‘živali’ and then he went to the main house to make coffee. While we waited we talked with his 17 year old daughter, Jelica, who was there to translate for us since Zoran speaks no English. She is still in high school and is in a program for training to become a Social Worker. She goes to school in Kruševac and boards there during the week in a dorm with other students. In the mornings she works and trains in the hospital and in the afternoon attends classes at the school. She likes to study but doesn’t like living away from home, and her days are long. She likes to read, including books in English, mostly romances. 

When Zoran came back with coffee he uncovered and displayed some of his paintings that had been stored under a large Serbian flag. The colors of his oil paintings were even more vivid than I’d imagined based on photos I’d seen online. One of his more recent paintings included Serbian tennis star Nole Djukovič in the role of St George, slaying Covid with his tennis racket (a commentary on the US not allowing him to come into the country for the US Open last year because he had not gotten the vaccine). All of his large paintings are framed in homemade frames built and painted by Zoran. The hand painted blue frames with golden accents of wheat are like an extension of the paintings. Sadly, when he had a show in Chicago last year it was too expensive to ship the paintings in the frames, so he rolled them and sent them that way. But he sold all 60 paintings at the show.

Zoran has been painting since he was a teenager and is self-taught although as a teen he spent a lot of time with a couple who were artists who mentored him. I asked if he plans out his paintings in advance and he said he starts with a vision, then adds details as he goes along. I asked if he has made a living as an artist and he said he has had to work at a job as well but did not say what he did. He said in these times it is nearly impossible to make a decent living as any type of artist. We said the same is true in America.

After coffee the 4 of us got into Zoran’s car and headed off on an excursion. There were more places he wanted to take us than we had time to see since Jim and I had a 45 minute drive ahead of us to get to our next lodging, so Zoran chose just 2 places to show us and said to please come back next year and stay 3 days so he can show us more. 

He drives fast like most locals, even on roads that  are only wide enough for one and a half cars. But his reflexes are good and he knows how to slow down and maneuver successfully when he meets an oncoming car. First we drove on rugged roads to the top of a hill near the old town of Stolac to an old stone fort built in the 14th century before the Ottomans took over. This fort was built atop much older ruins. There is no sign nor tourist info at the site and travelers would never come upon this place unless with someone local. On the little road up to the fort Zoran casually pointed out the remains of baking ovens left from Roman times. 

From there we zipped along a tiny road for 15 km through tiny villages next to the river. Some of the villages are nearly empty with just a few remaining old people carrying on there until they die. One house had ostriches out front. Zoran gave a running commentary as we bounced along and Jelica translated. We passed a bridge where supposedly the leader connected to the battle that resulted in the Skull Tower killed himself.  

Eventually we reached the Monastery of St. Roman, built in the 9th century and in good condition. We were there on a Sunday, and, while not crowded, there were a couple dozen visitors there. The monastery is set amid trees. On the steep slope above the buildings a long row of bee boxes watch over the monastery.

The inside of the church was beautiful. The entrance is low and one must bow to pass through the opening. The colors are warm rich but muted by time. The images transported me to an altered state. I would have loved to take photos but it was not allowed. I also would have liked to have sat or stood quietly for an extended period but did not have the time. But I did absorb and treasure a few moments of the peace infused in and emanating from the place. Not only Orthodox people visit that church but also Catholics and Muslims.

Once outside we were joined by a man who seems to work or volunteer there as a guide. He appeared to be friends with Zoran and gave us a lengthy lesson about the monastery and history associated with it. Zoran’s daughter translated. As is common here, many of the stories associated with the place involved wars and battles. Almost always these types of accounts are about how the Serbs always had far fewer soldiers than whatever army they were fighting but often came out ahead due to their intelligence, bravery and God’s help. He also told stories about healings and miracles that have occurred there, including one about a couple who brought their autistic son there last week and for the first time he ran around and spoke easily. St Roman was supposedly a healer and the monastery still has a strong healing energy.

We bought some candles from the shop and put them in the candle place, then spoke briefly with one of the monks. He was very calm, gentle, present and kind but only knew a little English. As we headed back to the car we met the Priest who Zoran also seemed to know. His English was a little better. He, too, was kind and had a nice energy about him. I would love some day to have a leisurely conversation with a monk (or nun). I have a strong monastic side in myself and even though I would not want to be a full time hermit I like the idea of spending a month or two alone now and then.

We zoomed home on an equally small road on the other side of the river. Back at Zoran’s we went into his downstairs studio which also is full of paintings, but in addition is like a little museum filled with all sorts of old stuff including a bayonet, some sort of sword, both a couple hundred years old, as well as an old military jacket that belonged to his grandfather, an old typewriter, an altar of sorts comprised of miscellaneous objects from nature, photos (including one of Tesla), and this and that. 

Then we went back upstairs and Zoran poured more rakija. His wife, Kaja, brought coffee and plates of food – hard boiled eggs, grapes, tomatoes, cheese, cured meats, pickled peppers, bread, and a large platter of grilled meats- chicken, pork, čevapi and other things I had no more room for, but I did manage to eat and enjoy one of the homemade apple pastries. Everything was delicious and once again we were touched and humbled by the family’s generosity to us, strangers.

Throughout our 5 hours with Zoran he smoked one after another his hand rolled cigarettes but we didn’t mind. The smoke was less harsh than regular cigarettes. 

Jelica politely took her leave after she ate but in her place her older brother, Saša sat down with us to translate. Kaja sat with us too although she did not eat anything. Saša is around 19. Even though he was interested in computers in high school he did not go to college and is not currently working. His dad joked saying Saša is ‘selling fog’, a Serbian saying for people who aren’t doing much. We liked Saša a lot (and Jelica). He seems to be a very sensitive, gentle soul and is smart and has a good sense of humor.

While we did not directly ask Zoran about his political views, based on our conversation he seems to be anti-communist and highly values freedom. He said for now they are still free…but he does not take for granted this will be long lasting.

He, like everyone, says the Serb people are good, but the politicians corrupt. He did have interesting comments and ideas about Serbs, including that Greeks are really Serbs. He, like so many Serbs, believes passionately that Kosovo is part of Serbia. He also said that Serbs and Celts share a few hundred similar words. We talked briefly about spirituality. He believes that life and the Soul persist even after the body dies. He has many icons in his studio. He was fun to talk with and I’m sure would be even more fun if we shared a language. We understood a fair bit of what he said but having the kids to translate was a great gift. Jim and I were struck by the kids’ willingness to hang out and translate with us and they were very polite even though I’m sure there were other things they’d rather have been doing. Zoran, his wife and the kids all agree that family, and living near family, is of utmost importance.

Shortly after 4 we took photos and said our goodbyes. Zoran drive us back down his road to our car and we set off for Vrnačka Banja.

photos: Zoran and some of his paintings, around his studios, Feast, Roman oven, old fort, Monastery of St Roman, Zoran’s wife’s sister roasting peppers, the studio