Friday, September 30, 2011

"...all these places have their moments..."

The now defunct school where Zok's Mom, Aunts and Uncles went.

View from the garden

I did take advantage of the home grown food. Sweden's imported 'fresh' foods don't agree with me. This photo is just the 'starter' of (each!) meal. It also tends to be vegetarian so that works well for me.

Zok's mother Mara was born in a village near Skopje.
Six children of twelve lived into adulthood, Mara is the only one that moved out of Macedonia. Her brothers and sisters moved to Prilip, with the exception of one, who moved to and still lives in Skopje. The cities are about two hours (and three toll payments) apart by car. One sister moved back to the village. The village actually was moved over by about say two miles or so, after cholera made many sick, everyone (forty or so families) re-settled.
The village only has about nine occupied houses now.
I thought that it was interesting that now there is both water and power people moved on to the city-but then I only have small bits of stories.
I find that the more I am surrounded by foreign language the less I try to understand. Well, I am trying, but sometimes my mind just drifts into white noise and minutes pass and I've lost even gist of the conversation. I find that as I am always trying to translate, as opposed to just understanding that I find myself doing just that- translating and filling in the deeper meaning- which doesn't work, of course if the conversation is actually deep.

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