This Monday I did something I have wanted to for a long time. Taking advantage of the Easter holiday and the great weather, I wondered around the villages, taking photos of old houses, a Jewish cemetery and nature and recorded church bells, birds and dogs.
At the end of the day, when I came back home, my Mother told me a story about her grandmother. During the first world war her husband was in the war and our area was full of young Russian soldiers eyeing up the young girls. My great grandmother would pinch her children so they would scream and the Russians would think they are crazy.
My mother’s stories are about war, suffering, joy, love and strong will. They come from a world where women used to weave their own shirts and carpets and travelling with the train was considered an adventure. Teenagers gathered on Sundays after 6 days of working in the fields and danced tirelessly until the musicians strings would break. People would fall in love, men left to war and women striving to protect their homes and children.
Today, I write this on the train and am typing on my portable computer. The guy next to me is watching the latest Jude Law film on his screen. People still fall in love, on and off the screens, and wars happen – but always somewhere else. The life here is doubled by life on our screens.
I look outside the window and see forests, concrete pillars and electrical wires. And this post will soon reach people living half a globe away.