Happy Easter Monday!
I hope you had a lovely Easter Sunday, regardless of how you celebrate or don't. Easter can be so confusing, moving around the calendar as it does. In case you're wondering, Easter occurs on the first Sunday after the first full moon after the spring equinox. Easy, right? Unless, of course, you celebrate Orthodox Easter, which will not happen until May 5 this year because they follow the Julian calendar.
Easter is a "moveable feast," an occurrence on the Christian liturgical calendar which takes place on different dates in different years. I knew from the phrase from the title of Ernest Hemingway's posthumously published memoir without understanding what it meant. It turns out that E.H. was not referring to a holiday that can't commit to a date, but rather to all the cool party spots in Paris that he and his entourage of famous friends frequented in the 1920s.
In 2012, Easter and Orthodox Easter were only a week apart and I got to experience both: the first at home in North Carolina and the second in Macedonia. Located in Southeast Europe, Macedonia is ancient and brand new. The first Macedonian king was crowned in 808 B.C. and a few centuries later, they had another king you may have heard of: Alexander the Great. Fast forward a couple of millennia to 1991 when when Yugoslavia split into seven separate countries and the Republic of Macedonia was born. (The country was renamed North Macedonia in 2018 after a name dispute with Greece.)
Making My Way to Macedonia
In the fall of 2010, my college hosted a Fulbright Scholar-in-Residence from Ohrid, Macedonia: Dr. Irina Petrovska. As the newly named Director of International Education, I enjoyed the privilege of helping her and her husband Nikola navigate their time in North Carolina. I remember taking them to the grocery store the first time and marveling at how they started on the left of the store and went around to the right. For me, it was an early insight into the fact that cultural norms affect every little thing we do.
Irina taught Intercultural Communications and played a vital role with our international students from Pakistan, Ghana, and Nicaragua. One thing that astonished them all was the way Americans treat their pets. It had never occurred to me that pets are an indication of wealth. If you struggle to feed your children, you're not going to be buying Milk-Bones for Rover or a scratching post for Fluffy. According to Forbes, Americans spent an astonishing $136.8 BILLION dollars on pets in 2022. In contrast, we had a student who sent all her scholarship stipend money home to her husband and four children. It created a problem when she approached community members for food and they got the impression that we were letting her go hungry.
A year and a half after Irina's semester in NC, she secured a grant from the American Embassy in Macedonia for me and a colleague from Maryland to provide a weeklong workshop on American culture to the hospitality faculty at the University of St. Kliment Ohridski Bitola. I was excited but nervous. Luckily, it turns out that Macedonians are the most laid back and hospitable people I've ever encountered.
Holy Saturday
We arrived in Ohrid, a city located on one of Europe's oldest and deepest lakes, the weekend before the workshop, just in time for Easter. Late Saturday night, we dined in a fancy restaurant where we learn the egg cracking game. Each person takes an egg and taps it against another person’s in a kind of toast. If you crack your friend’s egg and yours stays unbroken, you win the round. The last intact egg wins. As we cracked away, a trio of accordion, bass and violin played in the background. We toasted my colleague Vinnie, the winner, with many glasses of rakija, potent Macedonian brandy.
Shortly before midnight, Irina and Nikola announced it was time to go to church. Leaving everything on the table, we wound our way through narrow streets, up a hill to an ancient Byzantine church. It was drizzling as we stood in the stone courtyard, a huge crowd holding candles gathering around us. At midnight, a priest appeared with a wooden hammer and pounded three times on the door of the church to symbolize Christ’s victory over Hades. The church doors swung open and we entered, the air filled with singing and incense. Our friends kissed the icons along the church walls and greeted one another with cries of Христос Воскресе (Christ is risen).
There was no service, no sermon, no praise band or choir, no bonnets or pastel dresses, just the powerful feeling of victory over darkness. Nothing external about the experience resembled Easter at home in any detail, but my heart rejoiced in the exact same way.
We returned to the restaurant and finished our dinner with the famous Ohrid cake which consists of multiple layers of caramel, walnuts, and chocolate. We drank strong Macedonian coffee, not worrying about it interfering with our sleep. We arrived back at our hotel in the wee hours of the morning and slept like rocks, barely rousing ourselves in time for Easter lunch.
What the actual ...?
Nikola arrived at the hotel to pick us up and Craig and I squeezed into the tiny backseat. The car smelled delicious. Surprised at being hungry, I glanced around the small vehicle searching for the source of the intriguing aroma. I was mystified until Nikola screeched to a halt at his home, leapt from the car, and popped the trunk. The wonderful smell intensified. Eager for my eyes to share the joy of my nose, I glanced in the trunk and stifled a scream. What the actual...?
Were we about to eat a baby dinosaur? Like many American carnivores, I like to pretend my meat doesn't come from animals. The shock of seeing a lamb cooked in its entirety was startling, to say the least. However, by the time Irina sliced it up and placed it on a platter, it looked like 'regular American meat,' not terrifying at all. It tasted heavenly.
Two tables were placed together and both were laden with so many dishes, I feared they might collapse. Numerous Petrovski relatives joined us at the table for the feast. I was moved by the raucous joy of the group, wondering why my family at home never acted like this. It was almost too much when they broke into song at the end of the meal, Nikola and Irina dancing in each other's arms, the young people participating enthusiastically. I imagined my teenage children crossing their arms, rolling their eyes, and asking if they could leave the table.
Time to Get to Work
On Monday, we left Ohrid and drove two hours north to Mavrovo, a ski lodge vacated following the end of the season. There were live peacocks and a lot of taxidermy, a little creepy especially since our group was the only one there. Morning sessions started around 10:00, followed by a 2-hour lunch with wine at 1:00, and finished no later than 5:30. Evenings were spent in the basement which contained an indoor pool and a sauna. Singing in the sauna was seemingly mandatory (unless you didn't know the Macedonian lyrics.) Nice work if you can get it.
The sessions went well. Their favorite was "A Day in the Life of the LaVentures" where I had snapped photos throughout a regular day in my life. They were intrigued by my Zumba class and our small group meeting from church. Things they found unfathomable: 1) how Craig drove our daughter Anna to the end of our driveway to catch the school bus and 2) how Craig would take our dog Daisy for rides in the car because "she wanted to go for a ride." Dogs in Macedonia were generally chained up and served to guard the property.
After nine days of eating, drinking, singing, dancing, conviviality and merry-making, I was ready to return to the States, grab a sharp pencil, and check some things off a to do list. All this fun and relaxation was making me anxious. Time to return to the Land of Productivity and Efficiency where I could prove my worth through accomplishment.
...
Another person you may have heard of was born in Skopje, the capital of Macedonia, in 1910. Anjezë Gonxhe Bojaxhiu was from a Catholic Albanian family and dedicated her life to God at the age of 12. Later, when she became a nun and dedicated her life to serving lepers in India, she became known as Mother Teresa. One of her most famous quotes teaches that not everyone can do great things, but "we can all do small things with great love."
I hope your Easter included delicious food, a sense of family belonging, and miraculous hope in the darkness. I hope you've been shown the incredible hospitality I experienced in Macedonia. But even if you're still feeling more stuck in the grave than resurrected, I encourage you to attempt a few small things with great love. The ripples are infinite. Вистина Воскресе.
I absolutely love how you broaden our world with your down to earth stories of visiting the places that aren't on Instagram.