Serbia and Croatia are linked for me because both of them were part of Yugoslavia under Tito. It seemed to me as if all of the countries that were included in one country under Tito fared somewhat better under his "benevolent dictatorship" than the countries directly under Stalin. Many locals look fondly on the years under Tito's dictatorship. My memory of Tito differed quite a bit from the information I received while visiting the countries of the former Yugoslavia.
When we visited the town of Vukovar in Croatia we saw first hand the devastation that occurred twenty years ago during a four year war between Serbia and Croatia. It took 200 million dollars to clean up the land mines and some still remain in fields marked as such. Ninety percent of the town was destroyed during the conflict, with many buildings still in need of repair. We looked down into one bombed out building and two cats peered up at us from among the ruins. They seemed to be well fed, perhaps from the mice, or maybe the townspeople helped out. (I noticed in Romania that many people would share food with the roaming dogs. Sometimes a whole neighborhood would adopt a dog as an outside pet.) The war between Serbia and Croatia moved into Bosnia in 1994 and memories surfaced for me about the ethnic cleansing that was second only to the Holocaust in World War11. In 1995 President Clinton forced the Serbs and the Croats to leave Bosnia and make peace.
Peace appears to be on the surface. Reconstruction is going on, malls and supermarkets are replacing the obsolete factories, Mc Donald's has emerged in many cities, and everyone seems to want to move on. On the other hand, what bothered me was that in Vokovar, at least, Serbs and Croats no longer intermarry, the schools remain separate for the two groups, as well as the coffee shops. Healing does take its own time. Hopefully the Serbs, Croats and Muslims, will, in time, achieve that illusive gift of forgiveness.
Sunday, October 30, 2011
Wednesday, October 26, 2011
Jiggety Jig, Jiggety Jog
Yes, home again, most likely for a long while. I had a warm hello from friends and family in the Twin Cities and said a fond farewell with promises to return for a longer span the next time. Since Minnesota was my home for the first sixty-five years of my life, it will always tweak strong tugs on my heart.
My presentation of life off and on the grid, including many a hello and a goodbye, was enthusiastically received by the large group of women at the Minneapolis AAUW (American Association of University Women). What fun to have such an eager and appreciative audience! It was an added bonus to have members from the audience stand up during the Q and A addition to remind me of memories I had lost in the mist of too many years.
My extraordinary husband did all of the driving, both ways, and patiently helped me with the book handling and other details. He did become distracted by many familiar faces so I was most grateful to have Jan, our hostess and friend from many years back, take care of the nitty gritty of signing and selling books while I was greeting and meeting interested readers.
Now that we are safely home at our latest home of fourteen years, I hope to settle into life as usual, catch up with all of the catching up that awaits travelers when they return, and face the long winter ahead with the secure, cozy feelings that crept into my being from briefly touching on family and friends who all hold a special place in my heart.
My presentation of life off and on the grid, including many a hello and a goodbye, was enthusiastically received by the large group of women at the Minneapolis AAUW (American Association of University Women). What fun to have such an eager and appreciative audience! It was an added bonus to have members from the audience stand up during the Q and A addition to remind me of memories I had lost in the mist of too many years.
My extraordinary husband did all of the driving, both ways, and patiently helped me with the book handling and other details. He did become distracted by many familiar faces so I was most grateful to have Jan, our hostess and friend from many years back, take care of the nitty gritty of signing and selling books while I was greeting and meeting interested readers.
Now that we are safely home at our latest home of fourteen years, I hope to settle into life as usual, catch up with all of the catching up that awaits travelers when they return, and face the long winter ahead with the secure, cozy feelings that crept into my being from briefly touching on family and friends who all hold a special place in my heart.
Saturday, October 22, 2011
On the Road Again
Our time back home in the beautiful Black Hills was all too brief. We barely unpacked from our three weeks in Europe, but we have a presentation to make to the AAUW in Minneapolis so we hit the road once again. Bob and I will discuss our life off of the grid, complete with pictures of our endeavor, and I will reflect on my life of hello and goodbyes which continue to shape who I am.
The Twin Cities was my home for over 40 years. I wrote a chapter about my years living there in my book, "A (not so) Simple Life." It was where I worked, played, raised a family, enjoyed the many theaters, varied restaurants, parks and numerous events. There are friends and relatives to visit and places to see, depending on the amount of time we have. I said a fond farewell in 1998, and renewed contacts only a few times since settling in the Hills. I am cautious about the ten hour drive, however, as my back is still out of sorts from our travels overseas. I only had a few days to cold pack it, visit the chiropractor, and work on some stretches to strengthen the aching muscles.
So we are off again, but this time to familiar places and people, which over time, will have all changed, for better or worse, but in my memory will always remain, as in a favorite book from my childhood, special, warm and comfortable.
The Twin Cities was my home for over 40 years. I wrote a chapter about my years living there in my book, "A (not so) Simple Life." It was where I worked, played, raised a family, enjoyed the many theaters, varied restaurants, parks and numerous events. There are friends and relatives to visit and places to see, depending on the amount of time we have. I said a fond farewell in 1998, and renewed contacts only a few times since settling in the Hills. I am cautious about the ten hour drive, however, as my back is still out of sorts from our travels overseas. I only had a few days to cold pack it, visit the chiropractor, and work on some stretches to strengthen the aching muscles.
So we are off again, but this time to familiar places and people, which over time, will have all changed, for better or worse, but in my memory will always remain, as in a favorite book from my childhood, special, warm and comfortable.
Wednesday, October 19, 2011
At a Loss
How can I blog about this recent travel experience when I only tiptoed into other countries, other cultures, for a few days? My husband and I traveled on a river boat on the lower Danube River from Romania on the Black Sea, through Bulgaria, Serbia, Croatia, Hungary, Slovakia and Austria.
For the most part we were in the capitals, the largest cities in each country. We had wonderful, informed local tour guides who filled us with their history, past and present. These are my overall impressions, for what they are worth. What all of these countries in Eastern Europe had in common were centuries of wars, domination and oppression, beginning with the Romans and Turks to the more modern times under Hitler and Communism.
The scars of Communism are still visible in Romania and Bulgaria. There are hundreds of vacant factory buildings dotting the land, abandoned when the Soviets left after four decades. Stray dogs are everywhere, even in Bucharest, many of them discarded when the citizens were forced off of their land and homes and herded into tiny, sterile apartments in the city, a calculated way for their foreign leaders to keep a close watch on their helpless, uprooted victims. Today there are signs of hope and renewal. I saw numerous, beautiful parks in all of the cities, tended by what I was told were many volunteers. There are men and women vigorously cleaning and sweeping the streets, perhaps one way to sweep away the painful memories of years of oppression. Historic building are being restored, at times by hand, one brick at a time. There is little sign of modern equipment on the farms. The farmers are using horse and wagon, pitching the crops by hand. There is a brain drain in some of these countries. Because the unemployment rate is high the educated young men and women are seeking jobs elsewhere. Many of the them seem eager to return to their homeland one day, hopeful that their struggling democracies will improve in time and offer them opportunities for a good life under a freely elected government.
Driving through Bulgaria I could see litter everywhere in the countryside. Our guide told us that after the Communists left their country, many thought that one sign of freedom was to throw stuff anywhere and suffer no consequences. In most of these countries they are struggling with the idea of freedom, many torn between the "security" under the communist rule and the struggle and conflict that comes with democracy. Freedom comes at a price that some of the older generation are unwilling or unable to accept after a lifetime of having someone dictate their job and their life. Whenever I think of Bulgaria, I will think of their roses. They are the biggest producers of roses. From roses come their lotions and perfumes. Rose oil is one of their major exports. It takes 3000 kilos of red petals to make on liter of rose oil and 5000 kilos of white roses. Bulgaria is the "Country of Roses".
I thought I was at a loss for words about my travels, (not good for a blog person), but I realize that I was feeling overwhelmed by information overload and I needed some time and freedom from jet lag to process my thoughts and feelings. I have a bit more to say about my visits to the other countries along the Danube. The rest can wait for another day.
For the most part we were in the capitals, the largest cities in each country. We had wonderful, informed local tour guides who filled us with their history, past and present. These are my overall impressions, for what they are worth. What all of these countries in Eastern Europe had in common were centuries of wars, domination and oppression, beginning with the Romans and Turks to the more modern times under Hitler and Communism.
The scars of Communism are still visible in Romania and Bulgaria. There are hundreds of vacant factory buildings dotting the land, abandoned when the Soviets left after four decades. Stray dogs are everywhere, even in Bucharest, many of them discarded when the citizens were forced off of their land and homes and herded into tiny, sterile apartments in the city, a calculated way for their foreign leaders to keep a close watch on their helpless, uprooted victims. Today there are signs of hope and renewal. I saw numerous, beautiful parks in all of the cities, tended by what I was told were many volunteers. There are men and women vigorously cleaning and sweeping the streets, perhaps one way to sweep away the painful memories of years of oppression. Historic building are being restored, at times by hand, one brick at a time. There is little sign of modern equipment on the farms. The farmers are using horse and wagon, pitching the crops by hand. There is a brain drain in some of these countries. Because the unemployment rate is high the educated young men and women are seeking jobs elsewhere. Many of the them seem eager to return to their homeland one day, hopeful that their struggling democracies will improve in time and offer them opportunities for a good life under a freely elected government.
Driving through Bulgaria I could see litter everywhere in the countryside. Our guide told us that after the Communists left their country, many thought that one sign of freedom was to throw stuff anywhere and suffer no consequences. In most of these countries they are struggling with the idea of freedom, many torn between the "security" under the communist rule and the struggle and conflict that comes with democracy. Freedom comes at a price that some of the older generation are unwilling or unable to accept after a lifetime of having someone dictate their job and their life. Whenever I think of Bulgaria, I will think of their roses. They are the biggest producers of roses. From roses come their lotions and perfumes. Rose oil is one of their major exports. It takes 3000 kilos of red petals to make on liter of rose oil and 5000 kilos of white roses. Bulgaria is the "Country of Roses".
I thought I was at a loss for words about my travels, (not good for a blog person), but I realize that I was feeling overwhelmed by information overload and I needed some time and freedom from jet lag to process my thoughts and feelings. I have a bit more to say about my visits to the other countries along the Danube. The rest can wait for another day.
Monday, October 17, 2011
A Great Silence
"It is so quiet", I said to my husband, when I ventured out to our back yard on Saturday. We arrived home just before midnight on Friday. For two days I struggled with jet lag, wandering aimlessly from an unpacked suitcase to unread mail to a congested e-mail, briefly unpacking a few items, sorting some of the mail, and deleting many unnecessary e-mails. In between these frustrating tasks I went back to our comfortable water bed, trying to sleep away jet lag, a nagging back ache and an equally annoying cold that I added to my baggage from my last day in Vienna.
We left South Dakota during the balmy days of September. The migrating birds were clustering at the feeders and bird bath, the bees were busy at the last of our summer blooms, neighbors were gossiping over the back yards, and the diminishing tourists were still browsing the streets and enjoying our restaurants, Mammoth Site, river walk and the healing waters of our Plunge.
Saturday I went into our back yard to replenish the bird feeders, strangely quiet. All of our sunflowers had turned to seed and only a few flowers were bravely blossoming after one early frost. The bees were quiet in their hive, some emerging in the late morning when the sun shone and warmed up their home. The neighborhood was quiet, the streets mostly deserted, and the voices of children were oddly absent. On Sunday morning we walked to a local restaurant and it, too, was largely empty. We saw two tourists at one table, several lone retired type men and one other couple.
When I complained about the silence my husband reminded me that we had left a group of 170 people, bustling cities and capitals and international airports. We had been gone from our small community for almost three weeks. longer than we had ever traveled on previous vacations. Perhaps it is the striking contrast to our whirling travels plus the sudden change from leaving in September to returning in the middle of October that has me repeating,, "It is so quiet!"
We left South Dakota during the balmy days of September. The migrating birds were clustering at the feeders and bird bath, the bees were busy at the last of our summer blooms, neighbors were gossiping over the back yards, and the diminishing tourists were still browsing the streets and enjoying our restaurants, Mammoth Site, river walk and the healing waters of our Plunge.
Saturday I went into our back yard to replenish the bird feeders, strangely quiet. All of our sunflowers had turned to seed and only a few flowers were bravely blossoming after one early frost. The bees were quiet in their hive, some emerging in the late morning when the sun shone and warmed up their home. The neighborhood was quiet, the streets mostly deserted, and the voices of children were oddly absent. On Sunday morning we walked to a local restaurant and it, too, was largely empty. We saw two tourists at one table, several lone retired type men and one other couple.
When I complained about the silence my husband reminded me that we had left a group of 170 people, bustling cities and capitals and international airports. We had been gone from our small community for almost three weeks. longer than we had ever traveled on previous vacations. Perhaps it is the striking contrast to our whirling travels plus the sudden change from leaving in September to returning in the middle of October that has me repeating,, "It is so quiet!"
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