Barn porch seating for a rest from field work. Don’t mind if I do!
Catch a ride on a gypsy wagon. and enjoy the view as the world goes by.
If the day is too hot and the stoop in front of your shop is being showered with sun, move your table and chairs to the shadier side of the street. and enjoy.
When the day is done and you need to rest. finding a swing is just the thing.
My Grandpa doesn’t know what it is like here in Serbia. I just talked to him a few days ago and he told me to go to church. Something I would do if I was home.
The name of the Church here is Saint George… only in Serbian it is pronounced a bit different.
This is a picture of his icon. He is pretty and valiant looking at the same time.
The sermon is all in Serbian, it is sung or chanted like the old monks do in a monastery. Normally, it isn’t as pretty though.
The Churches are always freezing cold in the colder seasons. They aren’t heated for the few people who show up on Sunday. It would take hours to warm it. I am not sure that it is even possible. For the few occasions I have been there, A wedding, a christening, and just to go to church, it has always been super cold. Not good for the munchkin at all.
Plus there are just about 5 seats. Well, five seats on each side. The right side is for men, and the left is for women. Like they do in Mennonite and Amish churches back home.
There are no nurseries that I know of in the Churches here. Bringing a child to church is a bit more difficult here if your tot is ornery. I am sure there must be a bathroom somewhere, but I have no idea where it is on the property.
I did go to Church today Grandpa, I took Millie in the afternoon. I didn’t feel the need to go to the service at 8 AM. It would have been much colder at that time of day. Neither Millie or I would get much from the liturgy.
I had a nice chat with a bloke inside who gave me the icon of Saint George and the postcard of the church.
As I was leaving, a gypsy lady was coming in. But only went as far as the door. As I left she kept talking to me, and then asked me for money for medicine, then money for alter candles.
The alter candles here are actually outside, so the church can be locked but people can still light a candle if they want? maybe?
This is a pic I sneakily took of her.
The church grounds are lovely. I took a walk around the church. The side door is really small. I don’t think it is used much anymore.
Millie went to sleep pretty quickly when we got to the church. it was her nap time. I don’t think it was the church itself. Though I have fallen asleep during a sermon or two. 😉
While the men were at work this week, I was left again with the booger, She had refused a nap in Baba’s bed, and I ended up taking a walk with my one ton munchkin in my arms. Inevitably, as I ventured just a little ways from the house, she fell fast asleep. Dead weight, awesome! But actually was, She had a good nap, and I got some good exercise.
Camera in hand, balancing the little freight, I snapped away at the scenery. This time gratefully, no dogs followed me as they have in the past. And no geese honked warnings. The baby slept in peace.
In the Gypsy village. a large section is fenced in solely by bed springs and maybe couch mattress springs. Children and chickens remain within the confines of so many springs.
Gates and fences seem to be a must in this part of the world. Only large apartment buildings are left without fences. Probably best this way, as stray and family dogs roam free and can leave presents/stink bombs wherever they like. One very good reason to have a fenced in yard.
Another good reason is the trash. Here, it seems, too few people have manners enough to walk their trash to a rubbish bin. Serbia, an otherwise gorgeous country. is on big trash bin. It is rare to find a Serb who respects their home enough to keep it clean. I has bothered me so much at times I have gone out and cleaned it myself.
I guess I should look at that as an opportunity for improvement? There are a few , just like back home. 😉
This was my favorite gate of the trip. Chicken wire attached to a wood frame, with a fancy iron gate. Simple and beautiful~
Dobar Dan
Today, we were out bright and early to see the sun!! It was a gorgeous sunny spring day. The Pijats was packed and it was my first time taking the munchkin in the stroller. What a task! Complicated further by an unreliable pitch, I had to take it slow and mind the unpredictable pavement below.
The entrance to the pijats was clad with the usual babas selling their eggs, onions, flowers, and more. It was worth stopping to take a picture
There were bags hanging here and there on the fence surrounding the pijats. This one was really beautiful. Old traditional embroidery made an old bag a work of art.
There were so many vendors today. Selling all kinds of fruits, and vegetables. Scales to weigh the various produce are very common.
The gypsies had massive amounts of yard sale like goods on display. One was calling out Sale sale everything 150 Dinars! (All in Serbian) and another was announcing all of his sales info in French.
One of the Gypsy Salesmen who are constant workers on the pijats. (He doesn’t usually dress like this… It was kind of a joke… just stuff he was selling that made for a funny outfit!) I wasn’t the only one who got a pic.
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.
A crowd of people enjoying free wine and rakija
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.
Grandma and grandbaby
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.
Traditional band
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.
Grape shaped bread
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.
Cutting the grape vine
Pouring the wine for a prosperous new season
Then the breaking of the bread with a friend.
Breaking the bread
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.
Stray Dalmatian
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.
The gypsy lady caught taking her pic
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!
Kolo Party
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.
Little Miss at the window
Kolonija means Colony and is pronounced, kolonia.
The hike I took last week through the village was different than most of my last visits. I went to a new part of the village. I made a left where I normally make a right.
I found what is now the gypsy side of town. What some may call “the other side of the tracks”. Honestly, I found it quaint if not a little sad. One of the first things I noticed was music coming from one of the buildings. It was probably some Turbo folk music. But it really reminded me of the music in Bollywood movies I miss and love. I am not sure where it was coming from. But it was coming from more than one place as I heard it throughout the village. It wasn’t very loud, just pervasive.
Most of the places were dilapidated. One place Mama called an old motel is now almost void of windows and housing at least one family of gypsies. Large gaps that used to hold windows are covered with large pieces of fabric. On one of the buildings, a large satellite dish is hanging on the side of the second story. I guess they do have electric.
Front view of the Miners quarters in Vina (kolonija), Serbia
This is now the home of local gypsies who took over the miners “hotel” when the mine closed.
On my way back to the house I saw two little snow men with flowers for eyes, nose, etc.
They were in front of a pile of wood ready to be cut down further to stove size pieces.
Kolonia’s Snowmen guarding the woodpile
At the end of the wood pile I noticed an antique carriage. Having seen better days, it was covered by an old cars roof and surrounded in snow.
Old horse carriage in the snow
Kolonija was given the name when the old coal mine was working.The mine attracted workers from all over. Kolonija was formed.
Once the mine was closed, and the people who lived there moved on, Gypsies moved into the abandoned buildings. not all the places look run down. Some are quite nice, others are not.
And, like in the rest of Serbia, Fica cars are everywhere.
Chronicles of Serbia 