I’m the sort of person who loves tradition. I romanticize the good ol’ days, all the while fully embracing the power of the internet.
But sometimes, there are traditions I’m not so sure about, like the whipping and water-dousing of girls on Easter in Slovakia. Click to continue reading
A few weekends ago (I’m a rather behind), there was a little fair in our village, Vitanie Jari (Welcoming Spring). Children from the local preschools sang and danced in traditional costume, a few farm animals were available to pet, and local crafts people displayed their wares.
I am not naturally inclined to approach strangers and talk to them, but for the interest of my readers and in the interest of promoting Slovak culture I interviewed a few of the artisans. There were a few more tables, but wailing toddlers cut my journalist foray short.
One common element that struck me amoung all the crafts was that of patience. Crafting these works of beauty takes time, focus, and care, rather rare commodities in today’s instantaneous age. My favourite, though, is the last one! Click to continue reading
I have a different favourite season for every place I’ve lived. In Western Slovakia, it’s spring. Winter here tends towards dreary grey rather than winter wonderland, and spring brings with it positivity and hope.
Behind Smolenice runs a part of the Carpathian Mountains, the Small Carpathians. As seen in this picture from the town, I’m often surprised at how much difference a little elevation can make to the appearance of winter. Behind those hills is Zaruby, the highest point of the Small Carpathians at 768 m (2519 feet) elevation. Click to continue reading
Despite living in this town for six years, it still never gets old – my town has a castle. I find all the castles in Europe terribly romantic, though living in them in the winter might not have been quite as pleasant. The Smolenice Castle is particularly romantic – the first time I walked up to the grounds I thought, “Where is the princess sitting under the tree with a unicorn laying on her lap, while the dragon flies overhead and the knight trots up the road?” It sits atop a hill overlooking the town, with extensive meadows below, a little pond, and the Little Carpathian Mountains rising behind. Click to continue reading
“Blessed are they who see beautiful things in humble places where other people see nothing.” -Camille Pissarro
I grew up in a mountain valley where beauty was obvious every day. My walk to the school bus on crisp winter mornings included pink mountain tops stained by the rising sun, untampered snowy fields spread out before me and evergreen trees under their white covering lining the lane behind me (the walk to catch the school bus was about two km (one mile) – don’t be surprised if I say it was uphill both ways). Click to continue reading
To the north of our village are the Carpathian mountains hills. I find it fascinating that a few metres higher in elevation can make such a difference in the winter. Even though we live in an apartment, in five minutes we can be out in the oak and beech forest. Not that I get there on my own with the kids during the week, but it’s comforting to know that it’s possible. On the hill to the right there are remnants from a village from the Bronze Age, I kid you not. And on the hill after that, a castle. Click to continue reading
Since I first saw this woman, I’ve wanted to photograph her. I originally noticed her because she is one of the few women in my husband’s hometown who still wears traditional dress to church. I was also captivated by her pleasant and peaceful demeanor. You know when you meet someone and they have that light in their eyes? She is one of them. Click to continue reading
While this winter has been unusually cold in North America, over here in Slovakia it has been particularly mild. To some people, a mild winter might be a relief. To me, it means grey skies, grey trees, grey mud. Grey. Winters like these are the reason I painted my living room yellow. Winters like these make me miss Canadian Rocky Mountain winters of crisp temperatures, dazzling snow, and bluebird skies. When I tell people I enjoy -10C (14F) they look at me like I am crazy. I also cement ideas people have of Canada being the land of snow and ice. I protest, however, that it is completely different when the air is dry. When it is humid, as it is here, barely freezing temperatures seep into the bone and make it feel much colder than it is.