Skipping ahead to Banja Koviljaca (Serbia)-our place, being gassed, and pleasant meetings and adventures….

We DID get to see Cedar (on his way back to the US after 14 weeks in the Balkans) in the Amsterdam airport Tuesday morning for about 20 minutes before he had to board his plane back to Seattle. He looked good and it was a treat to connect in person even if only briefly. I gave him some nuts for the plane and a key to the house and he gave us a few spare euros. He made it safely to Seattle and we landed on time in Zagreb and had no trouble getting our car. Because we went through Passport Control in Amsterdam we did not have to go through any entry check point in Croatia like we have always done in the past.

Meanwhile, after two nights in Zagreb (more about that in a different post) we made it to Banja Koviljaca, Serbia yesterday afternoon with no problems other than it took about 5 hours instead of the expected 4 and a half. This is our 6th time staying in this spa town which we like very much, and it is only 10 minutes by car to Loznica where our relatives live. (More about the town another day).

Our three bedroom apartment ($24/night!) is on the first floor of an older house on the same street on the hill above the spa where we stayed last year. Our host, Nada, lives downstairs in what appears to be a windowless basement (but maybe there are windows in the back?). There is also an upstairs but it is vacant- maybe unfinished, or waiting to be renovated? The gated small front yard is filled with roses, tomatoes, herbs and low shrubs. The 2 year old dog, Lejo, is chained in the side yard where our car is parked. The lab-like dog is friendly but was a little skittish the first day we were here, letting us pet him one moment then barking and straining on his chain the next, but he was also injured and now that he is feeling better he always flops to the ground and rolls over wanting us to pet his belly when we come or go from the apartment.

Nada is friendly and speaks decent English. She is in her late 50’s, (we share a birthday), grew up in Sarajevo, lived in Australia for 23 years and moved back to the Balkans two years ago and bought this house. She has grown kids who have stayed in Australia, but she came back because she loves the Nature here and the culture. She originally studied to be a nurse, a midwife in particular, but never practiced because she could not get licensed in Australia without more training, so she was a cleaning a woman there for many years.

When she asked where we are from and we said ‘Seattle’ I was delighted when she said she had never heard of it. She knew of California and so I said we were north of there and close to Canada. It’s humbling to be reminded that the world is big and that the center of my world, Seattle, is unknown and unimportant to most people in the rest of the world. It is a good reminder to hold a wider perspective of the world and to not get caught up in self-importance.

below-‘our’ house in Banja Koviljaca

…….Being gassed…

After arriving Thursday we walked 15 minutes through the spa grounds to the main street to buy groceries, travel mugs for our tea (not abundant like they are in Seattle, probably because most people here sit still and drink coffee with friends rather than drinking alone in their cars or while rushing around). We also bought phone cards and had a frustrating couple hours trying to activate them but finally succeeded.

The low point of the day occurred while sitting on the patio of our favorite restaurant here. We had ordered our food and were sipping water from our $3 bottle (bottled water, both ‘still’ and ‘with gas’ continue to be more expensive than a glass of wine, a beer, or rakija) when an extremely noisy little truck slowly rumbled by spewing noxious fumes. After it passed the restaurant a tall wall of dense heavy thick smoke drifted in our direction. It was so noxious that we started coughing and had to go inside, as did most of the guests. It was excruciatingly slow to dissipate. It dawned on me this was not just exhaust from an unhealthy car engine but was a cloud of toxic chemicals used to kill mosquitos (and probably many other creatures as well). I was appalled that anyone would spray this almost directly on a terrace full of human beings, or on any precious ecosystem period. We have never encountered this before. It was extremely unpleasant and my throat and eyes are still a little irritated this morning. When I asked relatives about this later they said this spraying occurs once a month. The government claims the poison only affects mosquitoes but I doubt that is true.

A cat just paid a visit to our porch expecting us to put milk in the bowl that Nada leaves in the yard. She told us yesterday she leaves milk out for him (a stray). The cat was persistent in communicating his expectation to me so I finally went in and got some milk which he lapped up ravenously (I have heard milk isn’t very good for cats, but this cat seems to be surviving on it).

While sitting on the porch this quiet morning, in addition to loving the sounds of roosters, goats, birds, dogs and church bells, I’ve been enjoying seeing various dogs and cats passing by on the narrow street on their morning rounds. Most seem to have a destination in mind as they trot purposefully up or down the road. Humans pass by on foot now and then, mostly over 50. I listen to their conversations when they pause to greet and gossip over the neighbor’s gate. I definitely understand more than I would have a year ago, but still have a long way to go before I could call myself fluent!

…Friday –

After a relaxing start to the morning and eating breakfast ‘in’ as we usually do (Jim is the cook) we headed out on the clear warm day intending to take a short walk on the roads above town, then stop at the police station to see about registering our passports. Hotels and hosts are supposed to collect and forward guest information but ours had no interest in doing so, so even though it is very unlikely this might become a problem for us we thought it best to register ourselves. We learned that the police station here is only nominally open and the guy there said we must go to Loznica to register ourselves there. We opted not to and are just hoping it won’t be an issue.

From there we headed east, crossed the small highway and walked on a grassy path parallel to the wide Drina river until we came to a path that led to an empty stony beach on the river shore. The day was hot and the famous river not too cold, but between being exhausted and having no towel I opted for only going in to half way up my calf. Upstream I saw a handful of people swimming. We lingered a while then walked home. Our intended short walk turned into a 6 + miles.

Friday evening we ate at a place we’d not tried before, Park restaurant, directly across the Main Street from the spa grounds. Being only 5:30 we were the only guests. We were happy to discover the food, mostly traditional, was excellent, and a bit cheaper than our usual place. Jim ate stuffed chicken and fries, I had chicken on skewers and fries and we shared a salad and a bowl of fresh corn.

We walked back through the spa grounds and met my third cousin, Ruzica, and her husband, Lazo, for coffee (in my case I had a yummy cappuccino dessert). I think Lazo was a little disappointed that our Serbian is still not good enough to communicate fluently without Ruzica’s help, but he was impressed by how much Jim had improved since last year. Jim talks more than I do whether in English or Serbian so Lazo couldn’t tell if my Serbian had improved. It has, but Jim was starting from nothing last year and so his improvement is more obvious than mine. As is typical, we both understand more than we can speak.

Below-looking back toward B.K. with Gučevo mountain behind town (Cedar walked to the top of it when he was here a few weeks ago). Drina river below that.

Sunday a.m. in Banja Koviljaca remembering Saturday

I’m sitting on our large north facing porch, lighter here than one might expect due  to the morning sun reflecting off the white house across the narrow street. Even though this is a tiny steep street a surprising number of cars (and little tractors) pass by as it is the only way for many of the people who live above town to access their homes. I don’t know if it’s the road surface or the sounds reverberating off the houses that make each passing car sound louder and larger than they are. They sound more like military tanks than subcompact passenger cars.

Earlier I heard and saw what I think was a great spotted woodpecker in the tree in the side yard. 

Hearing Sunday morning church bells (we are close to the church) satisfies something in my soul as does exchanging greetings in Serbian with people passing by on their way up or down the hill. The most predominant frequent sound is of myriad dogs yapping and barking around the neighborhood, including Leo, our host’s dog. Many people here leave their dogs out all day and night. I wonder, if I spoke ‘dog’, what messages I would hear. Occasionally sheep and goats baa and bleat, and several roosters punctuate the relatively quiet morning.

I slept less than 5 hours again and am very tired. I like the firm beds here, and it has been pleasantly cool in the evenings, but for whatever reasons I continue to sleep poorly even when I’m tired. This is nothing new.

….Soko Grad…

Yesterday we met Ruzica and family (minus Djordje who had to go to school and work on a project) at the parking lot in town so we could follow them to our destination- the St Nikolaja monastery at Soko Grad about an hour and 20 minutes south and west of here. Before we left they presented us with a box of huge tomatoes, red peppers and hot peppers from the garden that Lazo’s father tends. Tomatoes (and much produce) here are much more flavorful than the factory farmed produce sold in the US. The tomatoes we buy at home barely deserve to be called tomatoes when compared with what we eat here.

The drive was lovely. We followed the 2 lane main road that winds along the east bank of the Drina (which separates Serbia and Bosnia). The road passes through numerous villages, towns and farmland. The predominant crop is corn at the moment. And many people are busy toasting peppers and making ajvar, their traditional pepper based condiment. I don’t tire of marveling at everything I see along the way- shops, houses with their orange roofs, tractors, signs, and my beloved haystacks.

The monastery is less than 30 years old. There is a small lake below it and a cliff behind it atop which stands a 12 meter high gilded cross given by a German as a gift of apology for the NATO bombing in 1999.

As we set off up the rocky road toward the cross two dogs joined us and acted as escorts during the entire walk. One dog had a lame leg and it looked like someone had bitten off the tip of his tail. The other dog had heavy sagging tits and a lip that looked as if it had been injured some time ago. Stray dogs have to be tough, savy and adaptable to survive. When we stopped at the ten shrines along the way (each with one of the 10 commandments written on plaques) the dogs stopped too. Almost near the top, next to a spring where a frog sat in a crevice in the cool moist stone wall, we sat in a shelter where the girls ate sandwiches eager to be given permission to open the bag of ‘jelly belly’ candy we gave them. The candy was a big hit, both because each flavor is distinguishable, and because the printing on the bag was in English. Katarina took a picture of the bag and posted it to snap chat. Ruzica said she was showing off her American candy.

As we passed by a small section of old stone wall Ruzica informed us it is the only remnant of a famous fort which the Ottomans insisted be demolished when they finally were forced to leave the area in the 1860’s. As we climbed a short section of stone steps Ruzica said that was the spot where they had seen a poisonous snake several years ago the last time they were there.

The final climb to the platform at the top of the mountain is on a grated metal staircase. I was hoping the dogs would not follow us but they insisted, then plopped down in the narrow long shadow of the cross. 

We admired the green views of hills, forest, cultivated fields and small mountains in all directions and took photos before heading back down the stairs to the dirt road. Before returning to the monastery we took a short walk through cool forest to a waterfall next to a high overhanging cliff. Had I been alone I would have sat there a while. The spot felt special. I wondered who and what that place has seen over the centuries.

Back at the monastery we went in the church, then enjoyed Serbian coffee on the covered terrace. Lazo said that kids gather there every summer for a ‘Moba’, which is a traditional way of living where neighbors and friends help each other for free when needs arise. The moba gathering at the monastery is an attempt at passing along this ethic to the kids. Jim attempted to speak Serbian with a small group of cyclists who told him to find the group website and invited him to join them in a ten day mountain bike ride in Greece next year.

We followed Lazo in the car for a half hour on a beautiful, barely traveled rural road (in unusually good condition) with frequent expansive views of the hills, mountains, farms and valleys in the area and arrived at a regionally famous small restaurant that specializes in roasted lamb. Lazo had reserved our table several days in advance. He ordered us salad, bread and roasted peppers to accompany the long platter of lamb. The food was all excellent but the lamb wasn’t as easy to pull off the bone as some lamb we have eaten. 

Throughout the day we had good conversation, mostly in English (Ruzica translating), and occasionally Jim or I would say a phrase or ask a question in Serbian. The girls asked us things in English once in a while, and smiled at our Serbian. Jim was delighted by how much more he could understand compared with when we were here a year ago.

They commented again that the locals are prepared to fight if the Rio Tinto mining project goes through. It will destroy the land and water.

Ruzica spoke about how much harder it is to raise a child now compared with when she was young. Loznica still has very little crime, but there are more drugs now. She worries her kids could be persuaded to try them, or that someone might put something in their drinks at a cafe. Djordje started high school this year and his hours are from 2-8 pm which is a bad schedule for teenagers. 

We parted ways in the late afternoon. Once ‘home’ we went to Contact restaurant for what was a larger dinner than we needed, then wandered the spa grounds and watched a concert for a while. The trio was good but the singer’s voice sounded worn out. They played popular mellow songs, some of which they crowd sang along with. 
…..

almost to the monastery. Our escorts. View from the top of the rock, note the dog on the steps. Tam, Jim, Ružica, Lazo. Monastery church. Produce from Lazo.

Sunday afternoon at Rada’s in Loznica

Sunday morning we walked to the main street to buy wine to give our relatives as well as get cash to give to Rada’s five grandchildren. This was Lud’s idea several visits ago and he contributes to the gift each time. Speaking of gifts, as we have gotten to know more people over the years the number of people we give gifts to when we travel here has increased so much that this year we actually paid extra to bring a 3rd suitcase! We brought the one we bought last year when we were preparing to leave Zagreb to carry the many gifts we had been given (including 6+ liters of rakija!).

The day was hot and sunny (again). We drove ten minutes to Loznica and found a place to park a block away from Rada’s and Stanisa’s apartment. We bought a few roses for Rada at a shop we passed on our walk to her place. 

Rada, who speaks no English, greeted us warmly and Ruzica (her daughter) translated. Rada seated us at the table in the small dining room and served us the traditional offering to guests, slatka, this time in the form of a thick stiff fig jam. It is served in a glass bowl on a tray with small glasses of water and little spoons. One eats a bite of the sweet and dips the spoon in the water, and drinks the water if wanted.

After Ruzica’s husband, Lazo, and kids, and her brother Strahije and his wife and kids arrived we toasted ‘zivali’ with their homemade walnut rakija. Rada’s husband, Stanoje,who speaks no English, made a toast welcoming us to their home and the country of my ancestors. Then we moved to the small living room so Rada and Ruzica could set the table. We sat somewhat awkwardly since Ruzica was not in the room to translate but gradually we all gained courage and attempted to converse using  little bits of our foreign English and Serbian. Djordje, in 9th grade, and Jelena, in 10th, both have pretty good English. Even 9 year old Nikola spoke a few words. 

We were happy that Strahinje’s wife Lilja was able to join us this time. We had met her only once before, on out first visit eight years ago. She is an anesthesiologist and has often had to work when we’ve visited. We enjoyed her very much- she is warm and has a nice sense of humor. She understands English pretty well but speaks just a little. She, like Ruzica and most working mothers here, has little time to pursue hobbies or interests. But their dedication as mothers shows in their kids. All the kids are polite, patient and friendly.

The dining room table is not big enough for all of us to eat at one time so Jim and I and the kids and  Strahinje ate together. We were served čorba, a flavorful chicken broth with small veggies, then several platters of mixed meats- sausages, chicken and pork fillets, and čevapi (another traditional sausage), as well as a big bowl of fresh tomatoes and another bowl of finely chopped onions. For dessert Rada served a nut based cake with orange peel mixed in and frosted with meringue. Delicious!

After lunch everyone except Jim, Rada and Ruzica and I went to the living room to watch the world final championship basketball game between Serbia and Germany. Lazo left to watch the game with friends. Shortly after that Strahinja and family left as well. 

The four of us studied the simplified family tree I had drawn out showing how we are all related. Rada loves talking about our various cousins. The rest of our conversation was pleasant but I don’t remember talking about anything we haven’t talked about before. But the most important aspect of our visits is simply being together, savoring each others’ presence.

After the game ended (Serbia lost, which was a disappointment but after their initial sadness the family reframed their view and said it was a surprise Serbia even made it to the finals so 2nd place was a good accomplishment), everyone reconvened in the dining room and we exchanged gifts. Rada gave us a crystal bowl (presumably to serve slatka to our guests), a novel by a Serb author, a little traditional knickknack, a map and various tourist booklets of the area. Rada also gave me a wallet sized icon of a female saint who is a protector of women.

The kids seemed to like their various gifts- money, slippers, candy, earrings, and t-shirts for the boys. But maybe the best present was the bubble wrap I had used to protect the mugs I gave Rada and Ruzica. The girls would stop and pop the bubbles every time they came into the room.

We hugged and kissed and said our goodbyes. Rada stood and looked me in the eyes for a long moment like she has done every visit, both of us connecting with each other and conveying our love through our gaze. 

I have no idea if we will travel here again. But I feel deeply grateful for this time we spent together. They are kind, generous, good-natured people and I feel humbled and touched by the ways they have made us feel welcome and cared for.

below- Katarina and Djordje at lunch. Cake! . Rada et al.