We left the house with Zoran and Milesa at 11. The border crossing was quick and easy and the drive to the village house took about 15 minutes. Zoran let us off on the main road so Milesa could take us on a walk up a small side road that leads to her family village if you go straight, and to the village church if you go left, which is the direction we went. Along the way almost every old house we passed was empty, neglected and in poor condition. Milesa kept repeating herself saying the previous occupants had either died or moved to Germany, Austria, or any number of other countries.
The village church sits on an open spot above the road and is surrounded by trees and small fields. Growing up her family did not attend church because they were Communists, but as an adult she celebrates Orthodox customs and rituals. The church itself does not look especially old and she said it is still in use. However she pointed out a Roman era (under Julian) large stone used in the wall of the church with bas relief sculpted heads and dates in Roman Numerals.
We sat on a bench outside and enjoyed the views and the peaceful quiet. As we left we stopped to look at several very old grave stones engraved with decorations but no words. Milesa said the people at that time were illiterate. Across the path from the old stones is a typical cemetery, still in use.
To descend we walked down an overgrown grassy path, past an old small school Tito had had built and then continued through tall grass behind village houses. We met up with the road via an obscure ‘path’ that seemed like part of someone’s yard.
From there we walked to the old school where Zoran went before it became a museum but it seems no longer open. A newer small school sits behind the old. In between the two is a grassy yard with a big mulberry tree and 8-10 sarcophagi from the 12-1400’s. They had been moved there to the museum site from nearby places near the village. Then we walked up to their house. Along the way Milesa stopped and talked with every person we passed, all of whom were out tilling or planting in their fields.
When we arrived at the house we went around back to the yard which acts as a living room, dining room and kitchen. Zoran had set up a tripod and had hung a large kettle from it over a fire burning on the ground. The egg-laying chickens ceaselessly scrabbled around the yard pecking along the way. They are not afraid of humans and were often underfoot. One pecked at the bottom of my shoe. The stray dog was there and came to us for love and pets.
Soon after we sat down at the table under a big apple tree Melisa’s brother arrived with three of his four dogs. Never married, he used to live and work in Belgrade but now lives in the village above Zoran’s village house where he raises and tends sheep. He speaks no English but was warm and friendly. He was missing a lot of teeth as is the case for many older people in this country. As we waited for food we drank rakija and coffee and chatted as best we could. Milesa said because of the late frost the plums, apples and raspberries will not produce fruit this year.
At one point later on Milesa explained the political structure of the villages. The larger village is Crvica, and it includes numerous tiny sub-villages. Zoran’s family’s is Batacici, and Milesa’s is Lacici. Crvica is in the district of Srebrenica. She said she and Zoran met in the village. Everyone knew (and knows) each other.
Milesa brought dishes and such down from the house in a lovely huge basket. Being April the food came from the market rather than from their garden because it has only recently gotten warm. Our meal included perfectly tender meat cooked in a stew-like sauce over the fire, spaghetti noodles, a salad of onions from their garden mixed with tomato’s and cucumbers, bread, and a jar of roasted red peppers and a jar of pickles. I enjoyed the food a lot although never asked what the meat was. I am pretty sure it was veal.
After Milesa washed the dishes in the outdoor low trough-like sink (water comes from a spring up the hill but she said they also get water from the city for the fields), the 3 of us walked down to their property by the river while Zoran tended to the chickens and put out the fire. We sat at an old bench just above the river and chatted and enjoyed the peaceful view. It was not quiet, however, because so one across the river was having a celebration in a small pagoda by the river and was blasting traditional music from a radio. We didn’t mind as it added to the ambiance.
As evening approached we drove back to the house in Bajina Baśta, had coffee in their apartment, then we went upstairs for bed after another beautiful day.
Next morning we packed and cleaned, then went downstairs for coffee and said our goodbyes. No words can convey how touched and grateful I am to be befriended by so many kind people here.
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