Zaleđeno kraljevstvo Kalemegdan je ovog vikenda delovao kao žanr scena sa platna Pitera Brojgela, osim što su klizače zamenili sankaši i kliskaši. Posle dugo vremena pao je pravi sneg i pretvorio ovu našu dorćolsku mahalu u zaleđeno kraljevstvo po kojem se šarene dečiji skafanderi a kuce veselo uskaču u snežne nanose. Radost za sve! Mene je ova staza vratila u detinjstvo i doba kada me je tata od kuće do Kališa vukao na sankama. Tada se nekako ulice nisu čistile i sve je škripalo pod čizmama. Moj otac nikad nije nosio kapu niti rukavice dok je šal samo nehajno prebacivao i više imao dekorativnu nego funkcionanu ulogu. I onda bi mu se uši toliko zacrvenele od hladnoće da su bili potrebni sati i sati da dobiju ponovo normalnu boju. I očevi na sankalištu su uvek bili najsmešniji - gurali bi se na sanke i onda hvatali zalet od staze ispod Cvijete te krivudali sve do kućice javnog WC-a. I uvek taj takmičarski duh ko će duže da se spušta niz padinu i da pritom omaši drvo :) Nisu očevi ni danas mnogo drugačiji ... Jedino što u ta vremena mi nismo znali šta je ''klisko''. Doduše, sećam se da su se Cigančići iz kraja dosetili da razbijaju velike bele plastične kugle, koje su nekad bile deo ulične rasvete Kalemegdana, i da se potom u njima spuštaju kao u ljusci jajeta. Biće da je to bio prototip današnjeg kliska :) A Ian i Mata sada svu zabavu pronalaze u kliskanju. Za sanke ni da čuju. Mata, pošto se ne spusti skroz leđima već sedi, krene nekako u rikverc i umire od smeha dok unatraške kliska okrenut suprotno od pravca kretanja :) I onda krenu ambiciozni roditelji, bolje rečeno očevi, koji bi da oslobode decu straha od snega/sankanja/kliskanja pa ih u suzama posade na sanke i gurnu svom silinom a majke u pozadini samo gunđaju:''Ma drvo u najavi! Nema šanse da omaše!'' I naravno, mame su uvek u pravu :) Pa kreće sudaranje i obaranje druge dece na stazi. Meša se plač sa radosnim pokličima, ali su svi nekako nasmejani jer znaju da je ova zimska čarolija u gradu danas retkost i da se sanke mnogih beogradskih zima ne izvade iz garaže nijednom. Setih se sada da je tata obavezno podmazivao naše sanke kožuricom od slanine. Ih, bez dobro podmazanih nema svrhe ići na sankanje. Ne znam da li se to i danas radi, al' eto predloga ;) I volim da posmatram krovove Dorćola sa svog prozora i kako se ceo vizuelni doživljaj promeni pod belim pokrivačem. Polako nestaje jedna po jedna stara kuća, romskog naselja na kraju Braće Baruh ulice više nema i nova gradilišta niču gotovo svakodnevno. Dunav vidim sad samo u parčićima a šuma na drugoj obali je sve ređa jer se ''ča-ča-ča'' naselja (BorČa, OvČa i KrnjaČa) uveliko šire i raskrčuju sve pred sobom.
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Writing letters and cards photo by Aleksandar Pavlovic Back in December 2012, Deki, Aki & me moved to our new house in Northampton, England. We were still unpacking our boxes from Warsaw and waiting for furniture to be delivered when on our first evening in the house I heard a flap from our mailing box making that specific sound when the letter is dropped. I went to the entrance door and found a little envelop with a card saying: ''Welcome to Collingwood Road, We hope you have a Merry Christmas and a happy New Year. Heather & Gerry from house No. XY'' What a nice surprise and warm welcome! In the following days we received Christmas cards from all our first (and second) door neighbours, without having a chance to meet them or know their faces. For the next three years we regularly exchanged cards with nice English ladies and kept that heart-warming tradition. So far there is nothing very interesting in my story as if you happen to be in UK during the Christmas season, you'll know that millions of cards have been sent every year as Brits probably invented these and if not, then at least they mastered the tradition of writing cards for every occasion. But this is where it suddenly becomes interesting ... When our second son Matthew was on a way, we've decided to move back to Belgrade and have left England again in December just before Christmas. As our first door neighbours, Aileen and Sheila, were so kind to us and our son Ian, buying him Christmas and birthday gifts and knitting the cutest baby jumpers when he was born, I wanted to send them a card from Belgrade saying all three of us with Aki relocated safely back home. Ever since, Aileen who is 98 years old now is writing me letters for Christmas. And every year I receive the letter from her, I get so touched by her kind words, nice wishes and short report from our ex neighbourhood that it fills my heart with warmth and my eyes with tears.
And this is what the Christmas is all about: giving and caring for others. It's about kids and their smiles, about family and empathy. It seems that nowadays we forgot not only to write letters but also to feel for each other. Dear Aileen and Sheila, I do hope this post will find you in good health. I'm writing my letter to you and sending new photos of boys. Aki is no longer with us, he is in heaven now as Ian would say. Lots of love from us all xxx |
AuthorIstoričarka umetnosti koja voli pisanu reč, fotografiju, da putuje, da otkriva nove svetove i kulture, da boravi u društvu životinja i u prirodi, a ponajviše svoje dečake. Imam ih trojicu (za sada)... Categories
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