I posted yesterday about February 14th holidays. After I wrote the little blog, THE MUSIC BEGAN. I was in the middle of changing and dressing Little Miss when it started. I got so excited to go see what was going on I could wait to be finished with her and to dress myself.
Soon enough, good camera in hand I was on my way… Just outside there was a band playing traditional Serbian music.
A Grandma and he little grandbaby were up on the terrace above looking down on it all.
Waiters from the Cafe Pariz were milling about the crowd with trays full of FREE wine and rakija. Almost immediately, I was offered some, after declining once and a brief conversation in Serbian, he asked in English where I was from. Then offered me a little wine again. The second time was a charm. Wine in hand, I watched the show. Since I was already buzzed off of my Turkish coffee and no breakfast, the wine made me a little but more buzzed.
It was the cafe owner’s Slava. Sveti Trifun, pronounced Teefoon, is the patron saint of wine. There was a gorgeous loaf of bread in the shape of Grapes on a table with the traditional Slava set up.
I believe it got around that I was an American, for when the traditions started a man came over and told me where I should be watching so I could get good pictures. He was very nice, polite, and helpful. I am so glad he cared enough to show me.
First there was the lighting of the candle like we do for out slava. Then the owner went over to the grape vine and cut a couple pieces off the grape vine.
Then the breaking of the bread with a friend.
I know they do this every year. I remember last time I was here for February 14th I could hear the music, but I was stuck in the apt in a cast. No going to check things out. I am so glad I can get out now.
There was a sweet Dalmatian lingering about waiting for some love in the form of food. He was so sweet but malnourished. I threw him some bread twice and saw some others do the same. I wish I could do so much more. I feel so bad for the many sweet strays here. They break my heart.
There was a lone gypsy lady there. I think she, along with many others were feeling good from the wine and rakija. After she saw me taking her picture, she really wanted to talk to me, but my Serbian or lack there of made it impossible for us to understand one another. There again, it could have been something how much she had to drink impairing her speech and my ability to understand. She was very persistent, so much some bystanders helped me to escape, twice!
She had a merry time. She danced as I would have liked to have and later joined the Kolo line. I had to get back up to the little one. But I got some pics of the dancing from the window.
The little one got to watch too.
I’d love to see that from my window. Poor dalmation, it looks famished 😦
lovely post, great story of this tradition of blessing the vines for a good crop! it’s nice to see these traditions still continue
congratulations for beautiful blog and pictures !!!! thanks for that !!!
waiter from caffe “paris”
Thank you for the wine! and for speaking English when my Serbian was not getting the job done! Glad you liked the blog. 🙂