Lumini si umbre

 Intr-o postare din ianuarie 2022 am scris ca sunt cateva cuvinte care ma definesc: explorare, curiozitate, visare, prietenie, miscare, sens, networking, empatie.

Citindu-le am simtit caldura in piept. Ma recunosc in ele. Si, in acelasi timp, am realizat ca sunt cuvintele mele luminoase, dar ca am si unele mai intunecate, mai gri sau chiar inchise bine la culoare: rigiditate, structura, corectitudine, dreptate, nervozitate, agresivitate, control, vulnerabilitate, tristete. Poate ca le stiu de atata timp, imi e usor sa le pun acum in scris? E o forma de acceptare? Citeam azi o postare a celor de la Centrul Matca despre boala ca vindecare neterminata. Oare ce imi spun despre ranile mele cuvintele mele intunecate, mai mult decat am descoperit pana acum? Ce tot car dupa mine  si nu dau drumul? Cum as putea sa le las?... Am obosit. Ma simt de multe ori acea apa baltita despre care am mai scris. Cand trecutul ocupa prea mult loc, viitorul nu mai  are loc suficient. Sa se faca loc! Tine oare doar de mine? In profilul hologenetic apare rana sacra pe neam. O stiu dar inseamna asta ca trebuie sa o car mereu cu mine? As vrea sa fie mai usor. E soare si sunt recunoscatoare. Am prieteni, timp sa observ, sa ma observ, sa dansez, sa visez. Sper doar sa nu irosesc timpul asta pretios numit Viata.

Saschiz - o incercare etnografica

Drumul de la Crit la Saschiz nu ia mai mult de 15 minute, cu microbuzul. De-o parte si de alta a drumului national vezi vara dealuri verzi si, in tot timpul anului, case, pe alocuri, masini, tiruri care gonesc pe o banda si pe alta si care mai asteapta dupa cate o caruta.

In fosta piata (Saschizul nu era sat initial), loc de negot si “schimb de vorbe”, inainte de venirea comunistilor care au transformat-o pentru a impiedica oamenii sa se intalneasca in numar mare, copacul inalt din parcarea moderna te gazduieste la umbra sa.  Biserica evanghelica fortificata “Sfantul Stefan” sta marturie, inca de la 1493, a vremurilor. Ridicata pe locul unei basilici romanice a fost construita cu sprijinul provinciei Sibiu, membra a celor Sapte Scaune Sasesti. A avut drept de acordare a indulgentelor catolice (1503-1507) si a fost una din bisericile reduit ale Transilvaniei. Oamenii stiau si atunci ca e mai bine sa folosesti lemn la impreunarea grinzilor de lemn, asa ca grinzile si “cuiele” fortaretei-biserica s-au modificat la fel in timp. Clopotele i- au fost topite pentru a fi transformate in arme in timpul primului Razboi Mondial. Dar fiii satului, ajunsi in America, au trimis bani pentru a fi reconstituite: “vorbeste” despre asta inscriptia de pe unul din cele 3 clopote actuale.  La ora fixa si la si jumatate “Bogdan” bate ceasul. Nimeni nu stie de ce statuia care indica ora se numeste Bogdan dar mecanismul tine ritmul trecerii timpului, riguros si ordonat. Turistii urca si coboara treptele abrupte care ajung pana in clopotnita, trecand prin cele 3 niveluri ale bisericii, printre istorii scrise si surprinse in poze si  desene ale Saschizului social, politic, economic. Ghidul descrie cu multe amanunte, cu mandrie, povesti ale sasilor plecati din sat, dar si actuali. In biserica propriu-zisa, orga rasfirata se intinde pe cateva bancute de lemn: toate tuburile au fost scoase pentru a fi curatate si reorganizate. Miroase a statut si ranced. Spiritul protestant transpira prin peretii albi, austeri. Asezarea in biserica aflam ca avea o randuiala si ea: intrau mai intai preotul, apoi femeile si copiii care stateau la mijloc, la urma barbatii care se asezau la margine. O ora mai tarziu, la finalul Liturghiei, se iesea in ordine inversa. Timpul nu era de pierdut, eficienta era unul dintre cuvintele de ordine.

De afara se vede in departare Cetatea care, in aproximativ 2 saptamani de la vizita noastra, se va deschide. Cum vor gestiona fluxul de turisti, ramane inca o intrebare fara un raspuns clar.

Daca pe vremuri era “cool” sa locuiesti de-a lungul drumului principal, denota statut ridicat, acum sa stai mai departe de el indica acest lucru – caci traficul s-a intensificat si e prea mult zgomot, asa ca daca vrei liniste, trebuie sa iti permiti.

Strazile poarta si nume romanesc (Ulita Lutoasa, de exemplu) si sasesc (Bielegoissken) lucru neobisnuit intrucat limba sasilor este doar o limba vorbita, voluntarii care au marcat strazile folosind o transcriere fonetica. Simtul umorului este si el prezent in comunitate: pe usa atelierului de ceramica e atarnata o inscriptie cu un caine si mesajul “stop blaming your farts on me… it’s not funny”, iar pe sortul gazdei de la pranz mesajul cu care ne-a intampinat a fost “iubeste, zambeste, intra pe 2 picioare si iesi rostogolindu-te”.

Ceainarie, activitati cu copiii, schimbarea mentalitatii profesorilor, targul medical, teatru, conservarea biodiversitatii, dezvoltarea comunitatii, a femeilor in particular, turism, inchiriere biciclete si incurajarea ciclismului rural – sunt doar o parte din socialul Saschizului. In zona au loc si concerte (Cobor intre Stejari) dar si  Turul Ovazului, conform afiselor de pe usa ceainariei. Multi sasi au emigrat in anii ’90 in America, acum in sat sunt multe familii venite din afara Saschizului, unele mixte, sasi-romani. Conexiunea cu cei de peste ocean s-a pierdut dupa cel de-al 2lea Razboi Mondial, in timpul comunismului. Desi nu au fizic prezenti, decat in numar mic, in orele cat am stat in Saschiz, satenii au fost prezenti in povestile spuse: de ghidul din biserica, de reprezentantii celor 4 ONG-uri (din 25 ale zonei) cu care ne-am intalnit, in certificatele de maiestrie in ale olaritului din atelierul de ceramica, in pozele din magazinul de suveniruri, in toata mancarea delicioasa servita la pranz pregatita de maini dibace. Chipurile si vocea oamenilor din Saschiz mi le amintesc prin femeile voluntari care ne-au povestit despre activitatile lor, a doamnei care ne-a servit bauturile racoritoare, a celei zambitoare si vorbarete care ne-a ospatat, a ceramistului tacut din atelier.

“Feel the village” – a spus la un moment dat Cristina de la Adept Foundation. Saschizul creste si se dezvolta cu oamenii locului si pentru oameni si natura. Genius loci la Saschiz se simte si se exprima prin gradina Ceanariei unde multiple specii de flori colorate si plante cresc impreuna si isi sustin cresterea reciproc.

Via Transilvanica - a perspective of the road

Back in 2023, the idea of taking a trip on Via Transilvanica got me. I got in contact with some organizers of trips, downloaded the app and started to read about experiences of people going on it. The project didn’t materialize itself until June 2024 when I found myself, in an unexpected way, going on this road. And so, I started to think of it. 

The road in itself as an observed object, in terms of shapes and texture, consists of parts made out of gravel, asphalt, others of dirt and grass (transforming into dust that goes up in the air every time a car passes by), others are a mixture of all; some parts are wide, others are narrow, some go through the forest, others through villages; while some are marked, have names (Ulita Lutoasa/Bielegoissken), others remain unmarked & unamed.

The road is a depositary of cars and trucks, parts of agriculture devices, garbage either scattered around or deposited in trash bins (proof that people in or just passing through villages consume chips, sweets, or playing with toys), leftovers from animals that even if you don't see you know are passing by (like sheep and bears), or others that you meet at various times of the day (chickens, dogs, cats, butterflies, all sort of insects...), pipes that eventually will go unseen, under the roads. At points, it holds signals, indicators, and electricity poles. "Dirt and stone roads are part of the Saxon tradition of closure " the elders of the villages say, according to Irina Dobrita in the podcast “Sfertul Academic”.

Some parts of the road have obstacles that at night one can stumble upon. Odors can be smelled from sewage canals which overflow from houses into the road. At times one feels the summer heat burning the skin cause there are no trees to hide under. 

The road transforms and becomes a bridge when it goes above the river or becomes a parking slot (for bicycles and cars) or a small playing spot.

The road is also an observation point. One can notice a rhythm of life: in the morning the roasters crows, during the daytime - carts, cars, tractors, buses selling flowers, fruit, vegetables, chickens pass by. Different people walk along the road, stop to chat or, along the way, sit at the tavern. Children, like Darius, play in the sand but also with the two Fisher puppies that an older boy “has taught to pull on the leashes". Music sometimes is loudly screaming. During evenings, houses inhabitants go out to the gates, sit on benches and eat seeds or/and chat. Others, like Luca, ride BMX bicycles with even 40km/hour. Walking on the road, one can take a peek in people's home, especially during night.

By looking from above (on a Saxon village map), one can observe the continuous line of houses, facing the street. Along the roads one can find fences, transparent or solid. As Cristina from ADEPT Foundation pointed out: “by building fences, we've created a road that brings the bears closer to us, guiding them to the source” – meaning that a road can emerge without intent and it can lead to unwanted destinations, even inviting animals to interfere with human inhabited areas.

The road talks about people habits, education, way of living, meaning, and so many others.

Via Trasilvanica, the creators say, is meant to be a “road that unites […] through which entire communities that were on the verge of extinction are given a new meaning and a possibility of economic development through a type of tourism done in peace and quiet, in which the main actor, the hiker, does not need luxuries, but instead is content with the basics and knows how to appreciate the value of local products, has respect for the work schedule of the people in the communities, is curious and helpful”. The “road that unites“ can be viewed as a link between generations and a material object that passes from one generation to other.

A road though can also divide – it puts houses in opposition to each other, facing one another as warriors in a battle; it causes divisions by raising questions like “to build or not to build the national road through the village?” – thinking of economic advantages or peace of living, “to pave or not to pave the old road?” – for tourists is cool to have it “traditional” while for the inhabitants the asphalted road would allow them to easily travel around. The road “decides” where to live too: it used to be cool to live by the main road, now as the traffic intensified, the main road keeps people away from it.

For me, the road during the summer camp acted as a Trinity with 3 milestones: the accommodation place, the meals place and lectures place. It acted as a bildungsroman, and a support for the rhythm of life - exploration, restoration and gaining energy.

The day we went on a trip, the road unfolded again in front of my eyes with a new meaning: the path of life - as we all are an intersection of 2 family lines. And by looking at the intersection as a potentiality, we are the road of the future caring with us the inherited roads of the past.