We drove to Mrzenica (a tiny village about 15 minutes north of Kruševac) where Zoran’s grandparents settled long ago. We parked by the side of the through-road where Zoran was waiting for us. He greeted us with warm hugs as if we were long time friends even though we have only met once before, and walked with us on the rutted road up to his house on the hill above the main road (the main road is less busy now that another stretch of the new freeway has opened nearby). The village, like so many, has few residents. Many houses are empty, their owners either deceased or have moved to other countries. Again and again when we pass through these beautiful old dead or dying villages I feel great sadness and sense of loss, loss not only for the particular families who once lived there, but also for the loss of a way of life. Yes, I know life was tough and hard for those who lived in these places, but it was a sustainable lifestyle and people had much knowledge about the Earth that sustains us, and they had close family and community bonds.
When we arrived at Zoran’s hillside place that includes gardens, fruit trees, a house, his studios, and various outbuildings he (and his friendly little dog) welcomed us into his dining room gallery, which has been remodeled since our last visit 2 years ago. He gets frequent guests from around the world. Hosting visitors is part of his calling as an artist. He feels great appreciation for people who are interested in his work and in Serbia and its history.
His wife, Kaja, joined us. His daughter, Jelica, who often translates, was on an excursion and would not be back for two hours. Until then we were on our own with figuring out what each other was saying, helped by Gospodin Google, as Jim calls Google Translate.
We toasted with (homemade, of course) rakija. Then he brought out the painting he had created at my request using images of faces of our family that I had sent him. During our initial written exchanges about the painting when I asked how much he charges he said it would be a gift. We felt funny about receiving a painting from this accomplished man for free so we asked Balkan friends what sort of gift we should give him in return. There was no consensus. Some people said we should give money, others said a small gift. Others said to receive it as a gift and give nothing other than the customary small tokens that guests bring. At one point I got an idea- I had written a fictional story several years ago inspired by one of Zoran’s paintings (I will post it later). I had the idea of having a friend translating it into Serbian and giving him the story, which seemed like a good solution to our dilemma of what to give him. Our Serbian friend, Anja, who lives in Seattle did a great job, and when we gave it to Zoran he seemed genuinely pleased and later said he loved the story. (We also brought a flowering plant for Kaja, a box of chocolate and a bottle opener from Seattle). When I told Zoran that I hope to finish my book of Balkan inspired short stories he said when it is finished he will paint me a bigger painting! He also said if our son visits he will get a painting too. My refrain here is, people are so generous, and still operate outside of our capitalistic mindset. Interactions are so much less transactional. I find this so appealing, not because of the bounty we receive personally, but because it feels like such a more kind and humane way to live!
Kaja brought (Turkish)coffee. Eventually she served us lunch…tasty crusted mackarel, boiled potatoes, a cabbage stew, and bread. All the while Zoran talked (and chain smoked his sweet smelling hand rolled cigarettes) a lot. He seemed to mostly understand us. I probably understood 60-70% or could figure many things out by context. It is frustrating when we recognize many words that we have learned but have forgotten. But it is gratifying to understand more each trip. If we come again I hope we will be even better in both speaking and understanding. Throughout the conversation Kaja (who works at a factory that creates plastic lids for bottles), listened attentively but only spoke occasionally. She appears to be strong (as so many women here are) and quiet by nature.
Zoran’s daughter, Jelica, arrived to translate 2 hours later. She is 19, finishing high school (not happy about school being closed due to protests). She is about to take final exams. She has been in the Medical track but wants to be a Social Worker, not a doctor. She said medicine is too messy. Her parents appear to wish she would be a doctor.
After Jelica arrived we were able to talk in more detail. We learned (or maybe had known but forgot) that she and her brother Saša were adopted when she was two. We don’t know the circumstances. Saša is now working in Kruševac in a company that makes car parts, maybe cables or wiring for cars? Jelica talked about the importance of family, and that she has tattoo on her spine in spanish saying something like, family isn’t about blood but about the heart. Her family is very important to her. She said her parents weren’t happy that she got the tattoo but she laughed and said she thinks they are secretly pleased. Nonetheless, she does not want to stay in Serbia because there are few good opportunities for work. We asked her if she is interested in history like her dad is she said no. Her dad said he was not interested either when he was young, and maybe her interest would develop when she is older.
I can’t recall now all that we talked about but Zoran spoke a lot about history, his grandparents (who built the studio where he works), a little about politics (he is conservative, and seems to like Trump and Putin who show up in some of his paintings), and about imagery in his paintings. He showed us his paintings (including one of Steve Jobs) in his upstairs studio where he works in winter and the downstairs studio where he works in summer because it’s cooler. He was interested in my stories about family and stories about life in America.
Eventually we said it was time to go. Zoran had us sit for one more cup of coffee. Then we took photos and we said goodbye to Kaja and Jelica. Zoran walked us back to our car and we parted after exchanging warm hugs. We are grateful to know this talented, kind, generous, interesting man.
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