“There are no foreign lands. It is the traveler only who is foreign.” – Robert Louis Stevenson

Saturday, July 12, 2008

Asaviec Posted July 31

On "Tuesday" I wandered into the local village where we get our fresh
milk and well water from. It's about 20 minutes down the road, and has
the most amazing quaint painted houses with decorated windows. I
managed to disturb every dog in town, and alienate every snobbish cat,
although one skittish new mum let me pet her and her kittens. One lady
extensively invited me in for tea, and one lovely old man wanted to
give me a ride to the next village on his hay cart pulled by his
recalcitrant horse (which I was happy to refuse as it would have meant
a longer walk home, and I watched how the horse stopped half way and
refused to continue). I saw a dead grass snake and a live one, a dead
mouse and several other live farm like animals in the idyllic summer
existence, but I was horrified at the thought of the isolation that
must occur in winter, despite the twice-daily local bus to take
passengers into "civilization" (i.e.Beshankovic, the one shop town on
the main road). With snow piled several feet high, limited clearing of
roads, poverty, winds from the arctic, simple wooden cottages and
nothing going on, it must not be a fun season. Still, it is pleasant
to live a simple life, giving and getting directly from the land.

I took several photos of the beautiful windows they have here, and
have shared a few.

Pic: painted house, windows, outhouse

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