Essential Words... but know that they will probably be ignored

"Jaz sem sita"

"I am full..." (Jaz sem sed, if you are male).
Believe me, learn these words if you are planning to come ever. Food is a major part of hospitality here. Every day during my first week here Ančka and I would visit her friends houses and they would bring out coffee and cookies or meat and cheese. No matter what time of day. Not hungry? Well that is too bad, because those Yugoslavian women slaved away in the hot kitchen preparing this for you (actually, that is not true. Most all of the sweets are bought, but they are still offended if you say no). And it is not enough to set the food in front of you, every time there is a breach in the conversation, someone will tell you to eat. My grandfather's sister Ana is the funniest about it. Even without breaks in the conversation, she tells me to eat. I went my aunt to pick her up and take her to an appointment yesterday, mid-morning, and she gave me a banana and a stick of gum, just because we were in a hurry. When I was there in 2007, she put something in my hand every night as we were leaving. These things ranged from chocolate bars, to the leftover cookies, to packets of gum. Usually, I saved them until a later time, but one night I decided to open the wrapped candy sitting in my hand, and pop it in my mouth. Bad decision, it appeared that night she was out of sweets, and decided to give me a cough drop instead.

Well, Sunday was a feast. I went to Blate, the village of my uncle Mirko, his wife Darink, kids Urban and Eva, and mama Ana as well (they all live togehter, though Eva also lives in Dolenja Vas with her boyfriend). We had a fish feast. Amazing fish... Mirko is a trout fisherman, and prepares the most amazing fish in the world. I was a little late (got lost on my bicycle), and so I had to eat after everyone else, which just meant that everyone at the table was keeping track of how much they ate, and that the all joined together to urge me to eat more, and to hand me the dishes of foods that I had not already piled onto my plate. This is what my first plate looked like when everyone finished scooping things onto it for me... a whole fish (complete with the head and all... learned how to eat fish properly), roasted potatotes, two slices of bread, tomato salad, fried zuchinni (they called it fried pumpkin... sometimes the translator just doesn't get things right), and cucumber and onions. There was no free space. In fact, my bread was on the table. So I finish everything with everyone's eyes on me. And then they ask me what I want next! There is a giant bowl of chicken and turkey, and my options for meat are either that, or more fish. I said that I was full, and nobody believed me. What?! How could nobody believe me... my bread was on the table because there was no room on my first plate! So I ate another fish. Ok, fine. Pretty full, but whatever.

After that my aunt promptly serves turkish coffee. Ok, that is fine. However, there is a giant basket of cookies on the table that they make you eat with the coffee. Cookies and coffee are really good together, so I eat more without complaining. Then what? THEN, after I am stuffed with cookies, mama Ana brings out dessert. Homeade. Layers of cake between layers of cream and fresh berries. Pretty amazing, but still. Nobody refuses dessert, because Ana is old and clearly this was a task. It is beautiful and delicious, but my stomach is pushing on my surrounding organs and hurting. Ok, cake done. We get a break from the food... all of this has taken about 2 hours.

For my food break, I go to watch my cousin's boyfriend play tug-of-war at a nearby festival. Amazing... their team loses the first match, but it is really fun to watch. My uncle is picking on me the whole time, telling me to find myself a "Slovensko fanta"... a Slovene boyfriend. I can understand because he keeps winking at me and pointing to their giant muscles. The bigger the better, he says. My uncle and Blaž's dad (the guy we are watching compete) keep trying to buy us beer, but Blaž's sister is as full as me, and she can explain in Slovene that we are about to explode (and the beer is not good here... two kinds only). The rest of the competition is amazing though. The next time that Blaž competed, the rope actually just split in two when each team began to pull on it. Everyone just fell over. It was like an episode of Saved by the Bell, only instead of Mr. Bellding rambling about getting a new rope, it was some really tan Slovene man. Amazing.

We went home because Eva called about bees. Mirko has over 40 colonies, and there was another in a tree in his backyard. Before we were allowed to sit down, Darinka gave us all ice cream cones, and would not take no for an answer. She then tried to give us seconds. Unbelievable. After Mirko caught the bees and added them to his collection, he began making čevapčeči, an amazing Serbian sausage. This was about 3 hours after we finished lunch.

While eating again, the bees decided that they wanted to join us. I cannot describe in words how funny this made dinner, but please just be creative.


And that was the end. No more food after that. I rode my bike home, and while it was a little difficult with my stomach more full than ever, it was still a beautiful ride, with the sun setting behind the mountains.
This was a typical weekend day. And week night, just squashed into a few hours.