Front Matter - Part 01

Lifelong Noose

A Novel

By Dragica Najcheska

(Translated from Macedonian to English and edited by Risto Stefov) Lifelong Noose

Skopje, 2003

A Novel

* * *

December 10, 2020

* * *

I dedicate this book to my brother Dimche Najcheski, to my husband Dragan Buzalkov, to my sister’s husband, Pavle Popovski, who from an early age was instilled with the communist idea of an equal, just and humane society and went through horrible mental and physical suffering in the Goli Otok golgotha and endured with dignity. I also dedicate this book to members of my family who tirelessly struggled for the ideal of realizing a worthy life for humanity.

I would like to thank my parents Viktorija Najcheska and Metodija Najcheski who instilled in us, their children, the ideal that we should struggle for a better life for people, and, with their stoicism, helped us persevere and endure, even in the most difficult days of temptation that we faced.

With love, The Author

It was the day of my engagement to Milan... I was going crazy with joy. Several times in the afternoon I tried on my new dress, specially made for me for the evening when I was going to meet our guests. Who would have held out until then? Every time I passed by the mirror I changed my hairstyle. I wanted to be the most beautiful for Milan that night, more beautiful than any other day. For him. For my beloved. I also tried on my new shoes several times. I looked at them from all sides in front of the mirror which hung, elongated, on the wall next to the door.

For a while Milan and I thought that an engagement was unnecessary. We felt we should go straight to our wedding. But my mother insisted on it. Have an engagement she kept saying. We decided to have it and let the old lady rejoice. She deserved it. She had dedicated her whole life to us. All of us at home agreed that only members of our closest family should be invited. Twenty people at most.

In the evening of the event my Uncle Slobodan, Aunt Emilia, cousin Lily and cousin Iko arrived first followed by my brother’s and sister’s friends and my friends. After that my distant Aunt Violeta, my father’s cousins, with her husband Sreten and their two older children Miodrag and Predrag arrived. Pavle, my mother’s cousin, came with his wife Milena but without their children.

I was so excited I was oblivious to who was there. They were probably smiling at me. I could hear their voices from the distance congratulating me as I entered the reception room.

Our guests sat down around the various tables where snacks had already been offered.

The event started with offerings of chocolate candies, rakia and salads.

We were all excited waiting for Milan to arrive. We were expecting him to arrive at any moment. A few days before Milan and I had bought our new clothes together, a new shirt and new shoes. I didn’t want to miss the moment when he arrived. I was constantly at the front door. I wanted to be the first to see him when he arrived.

Almost half an hour had passed after the time that we had expected him to arrive. To me it seemed like an eternity! Milan was always on time. I won’t forgive him for his little tardiness, I thought to myself... But, after waiting an hour I began to feel something squeezing at my chest. I became nervous... I started having doubts... I was hoping he hadn’t changed his mind at the last moment! He hadn’t gotten cold feet… He’d spent most of his life alone and I figured his connection to me would be a big turning point for him. Was there hesitation? Why didn’t I feel it? How could he hide it from me so successfully? Why did I blame him so unjustly? If he was going to be late why didn’t he call...?

I couldn’t believe a second hour had passed and Milan still hadn’t arrived...

I didn’t want to look and see if any of the others were upset. We all anxiously stared at the front door. One time I saw my mother sneaking into the other room. Not the one where the guests were. I figured she was looking out the window, the one that allowed her to look down to the end of the street. She patiently waited with a fixed gaze. She must have done this many times before.

Where are you Milan...? What is happening with you?

Up to that day we had had a storybook relationship. From the moment we first met we couldn’t be separated. Not even for a day. He came to see me almost every day when I finished work, even though the city I lived in was far from him. He didn’t mind traveling.

It was even stranger how many things connected us. As if we had grown up together. We listened to the same songs. We watched the same movies. We liked to read similar books, sometimes even the same books. We had similar tastes in food, in dress… We were close in almost everything.

The one thing that we differed in was getting married. I didn’t seem to be ready. I felt it was too soon. I was the youngest of three children in my family. Milan was impatient. Persistent. He insisted

we talk about it. He talked about it with my brother, with my mother...

In recent weeks Milan had been trying to get us engaged as soon as possible. And have a wedding too. Even the little time that we were living apart seemed a lot to him.

Everything for the engagement had been ready since yesterday. The tables were arranged and the food to be served was planned. A few hours ago we all got dressed in our new dresses and suits, specially tailored for this festive event.

But, Milan wasn’t there...

...I could no longer control my emotions. I looked anxiously at my brother… at my sister… I was scared. God, had something happened to him?! Whatever it was, he could have called from somewhere... There was no telephone in his apartment... They didn’t know how to contact him or inquire about him...

It seemed like tension was high in the reception room where the guests were, with some unexpressed discomfort. As for me, I didn’t want to hear anyone say anything about Milan not being there.

We all seemed to be afraid of our eyes meeting. They avoided mine and I theirs. We didn’t want to find something out through our eyes that we wouldn’t like. At one point my mother, my brother, my sister and I agreed to go to the other room, the one with no guests, and figure out what to do.

“Why don’t you let your brother Rade go by car with your uncle to his house… To Milan’s house…” suggested my mother in a trembling voice.

I felt flushed and all the blood went to my brain.

“No! No way! No! Such humiliation! Whatever stopped him from coming… He could have told someone! No way. Not on this earth! He embarrassed us in front of the whole family! We’re not going to beg him! We’re not going on our knees…” I said out loud and then

whispered from the side of my mouth, “We’re lucky my father isn’t alive, the earth would have swallowed him…” I was feverishly angry. Completely insane! I didn’t know in what hole to crawl to get away. I didn’t want to go back and face the guests.

“Then we have nothing left to do but wait…”, said my brother. “You decide!”

In the confusion I didn’t realize that some of my closest relatives were trying to comfort me. They speculated about what could have happened to Milan. If I could, I would have shut their mouths. I wanted to do that but I didn’t want them to know how humiliated I felt. If I could have disappeared, I would have.

My heart was pounding so hard it felt like it wanted to jump out of my chest.

I felt sorry for my sister and brother...

My poor mother... Her face was so pale. Completely white. I thought that she would faint any moment now, here in front of everyone and never regain consciousness.

...More than two hours passed.

From time to time my mother and sister offered the remaining guests snacks and drinks but most didn’t want anything. Only some of the men had a drink of rakia or some other drink. Slowly and silently they left the house. The apartment was getting quieter and quieter until it became completely silent.

We were left alone; my brother, sister, mother and me.

This was the first time I’d heard my brother swear. My mother kept repeating: “He must have been detained…something very bad must have happened to him!” I was annoyed with her attempts at comforting me. I didn’t want to hear anything from my mother. Once again, I insisted that they not talk about Milan or about that evening. Not now, not ever!

“Let him come and explain himself! Otherwise, I don’t want to hear his name any more. Neither in this nor in any other world!...”

Everyone went to bed and in the late hours of the night, in their own minds, had to relive this torturous, difficult and awful experience. I tried not to let anyone hear me cry... I was sobbing... I muffled my cries with a pillow on my face. I had thoughts of pushing the pillow against my face and holding it there! To end my misery forever...

I felt someone pulling the sleeve of my pyjamas. It was my mother. I opened my eyes a little bit. I thought to myself why am I here? I rarely ever stay and sleep here at my mother’s and brother’s place! Even when I was late, I always went home to sleep.

“Get up, let’s drink a cup of coffee. We had slept through the entire day. Those damn pills we took last night made us all very sleepy…” my mother said and stopped pulling on my sleeve.

Pills! All! All who?! Why pills?! That means it wasn’t a dream. It was a nightmare. It’s all true... I was slowly becoming aware of the horror, which in the first moments after waking up I had hoped was a dream…It had really happened... I got out of bed. My mother gave me a big hug... So it is true... How could I have slept knowing the truth?! My new dress was lying on the chair. I crumpled it. I couldn’t stand to look at it. I quickly found some other clothes. I got dressed and ran to the street. My mother tried in vain to stop me. I had to overcome this on my own...

What had happened, happened. I had to live with it. The days went by one after another. The same as always.

Almost every day the moment I closed my eyes Milan’s face appeared... I remembered everything good that connected us. Our love that made my life meaningful... Was that a dream? Our time between seeing one another was very long for me... My heart beat with excitement the moment he knocked on my door. The moment I heard his masculine voice. The moment I met his light green eyes, hidden under his long eyelashes. Looking at his eyes made me happy. I couldn’t wait to put my fingers through his light locks of silky hair and hug him immediately after that with a warm and firm

embrace. It was fate that he chose me and gave me exactly what I wanted!

We had all kinds of conversations. We were coming closer. Our love was growing... Every time we met he had a surprise for me. A small gift, a flower, a candy. There was no force that could separate us... Life had united us to share joy, happiness.

Then suddenly, maybe suddenly, something in him broke. Did his unwillingness to live with obligations overcome him?! Were they stronger than love? He should have told me. He should have opened up to me. I wouldn’t have been angry with him. I would have understood. I would have found the strength to justify it. I would have tried to encourage and support him. But this way? It’s unforgivable.

Time passed. Days. Weeks. A whole month. Even if he came to beg me, fell on his knees, no matter what he said or explained… It was over. He had closed the door on me, on my soul. I would have to insist, no matter how much it hurt me. I would have to insist that he was out of my life! I had to do it no matter how impossible it seemed to me.

I had almost no contact with any of Milan’s colleagues in the school where he worked. Even from before. I didn’t know any of the neighbours who lived near the school. This, in a way, made me avoid inquiring about him. Not talk about him... I suppressed everything that tied me to him deep inside me. It was hellishly difficult and I struggled, superhumanly, to endure...

Some days I experienced moments of extreme weakness. But also revolt. Something inside me was rebelling terribly. What happened? Why this way Milan? Why did you show no mercy towards me? To your beloved, as you called me? I pushed those feelings aside but they still followed me persistently. They caused me pain. To exhaustion. They scared me. In moments like those I was ready to get on the first bus and go to the city where he lived. Go straight to the school where he taught and lived. If he wasn’t there, I was prepared to go through all the streets in the city. I was going to do everything I could to find him. To face him, face to face! To look

into his eyes. To read the expression in them! To see if there was a trace of love somewhere in them? ...But... I didn’t do that. I didn’t go. I didn’t look for him. Nor did I ask anyone about him. The hurt I felt in my soul, the shame and humiliation he had inflicted on me, didn’t allow me to do that.

What was also strange, almost unbelievable, was that I hadn’t seen him in the streets. On the buses. In the stores. Maybe he no longer came to B?. He was probably afraid of meeting me, or my relatives, or my friends...

My mother, my sister and my brother accepted the idea that talking about Milan, even saying a single word, was a forbidden subject. It seemed like they had taken an oath not to mention him at all... Even more so about the engagement. As much as possible they all tried to help me overcome my problem. They suffered along with me. And the days kept passing.

I suffered great pain and torment in my heart for my beloved Milan... I was losing my strength. I was getting weaker and weaker.

My co-workers avoided asking me about the engagement. Nor did they mention Milan. It seemed like they had agreed to be silent, down to the last one. They must have understood what my family and I had experienced. They didn’t want to mention anything to me.

There was a need to be silent.

* * *

Soon after the fascist occupation was over, one by one my older sister Vera and our brother Rade left our village, where Rade, Vera and I, Dushitsa, were born and where our whole family had lived, and went to the city B. Rade soon got a job and didn’t stay long with Uncle Slobodan. Our uncle had studied and graduated from the Faculty of Law in the capital, just before the war, and lived there permanently. He offered his nieces and nephews a place to live with his family at his house. He made it possible for them to attend school or learn a craft if they wanted to. He wanted them to earn as much money as they could from their livelihood, if they wanted to.

And if they wanted to, he offered them the option of staying with him. Living with his family.

Everyone knew that he was doing this out of gratitude to our father and mother. They had helped him through his studies and through his first years of marriage. He couldn’t have survived without the money and food our parents had sent him from the village. They did this even though they themselves had three children and didn’t have much income to spare. When our father saw how well his younger brother was doing in school he decided to help him. He helped him graduate from law school. He was very proud of him. By doing this he realized some of his own unfulfilled wishes. He himself had spent his life working as a forester.

* * *

Father accompanied Vera and Rade to our uncle’s house. According to Vera, our father was very happy to leave Rade and her in the big city, in the care of his younger, educated brother, who was now employed in a high position in the people’s government. Vera and Rade were welcomed by our uncle’s family. Not only because it was expected of them but because they wanted to.

That didn’t change in the long term.

Everyone liked Rade and Vera. They felt that they brought a freshness and cheerful spirit to their home. It was like they had brought something clean from the village, more primitive than anything they were used to. They brought something that was full of serenity and liveliness.

Soon everyone fell in love with Vera. It seemed like they couldn’t bear to be without her, even on rare weekends when she went home to visit her parents.

Our aunt, a respected and talented artist whose paintings sold at numerous exhibitions, wasn’t happy with her life, with her artistic paintings, with her reviews, with her two children who kept her busy... Her life with a politician was also boring.

Our uncle, being engaged at the top, narrowest political circles in the country, was very busy and very often away from home.

* * *

From the day Vera and Rade left home and went to live with our uncle, I missed them a lot. It was as if I had lost part of myself. Every day I ran after the mailman to see if he’d brought me a letter. The letter Vera promised to write me. “Write me immediately,” I begged her when she was leaving. “I will write to you as soon as I can,” she promised.

A month later the mailman finally delivered the long-awaited letter.

After arriving at our aunt and uncle’s place Vera figured she would be living a completely new life, a different life. Completely different with different people who had different habits.

None of the family members in our uncle’s house felt that they needed to do anything, just like our father had once told us. But, whether she wanted to or not, Vera felt she had to help out with the housework. Without anyone asking she washed the dishes, the clothes, tidied up the kitchen and went to the market. She set the dining table and lifted the dishes. Vera wrote me about all these things in her first and subsequent letters that she sent me from the big city, the huge city where you were afraid to go out in the street. She wrote me of how sorry she was for us living in the village. She told me she had gotten used to living with our relatives.

In the beginning, Vera wrote, in the letters she sent me, that everything in our aunt and uncle’s house was wonderful. It seemed to her like she was living in a magical castle. She couldn’t get enough of looking at the beautiful rooms, beds, bedspreads, bedding, decorations, flowers... Everyone in the house wore very different clothes from the ones Vera and the people in our village used to wear.

Nobody cooked anything in our uncle’s house, sometimes for several days in a row. When members of the family were hungry, if they hadn’t eaten a sandwich on their way home, they opened the fridge

and ate any food they could find. Vera soon realized that no one was going to feed her, so, even though she didn’t have much experience, she started cooking. And that became her daily obligation. She told our uncle that she wanted to go to music school to study music, so he enrolled her. But soon she realized she wasn’t going to pass because she didn’t have the time and necessary experience. The students she studied with had a lot more free time and had been practicing from an early age. So she soon gave up.

One evening, when she was alone with her uncle in the dining room and her cousins were in their rooms, in a quiet voice she said:

“My friend from our village, who also came to the city to live with her relatives, completed an evening course in typography... If possible I would like to do that too.”

“Of course, that’s an easy course,” he said even though he wanted more for her.

Vera soon learned how to type and received her diploma in six months.

* * *

When Vera graduated from the typography course no one thought that this meant she had gained her independence. Everyone congratulated her of course but with restraint. Vera was pleased.

Almost a year had passed since Vera had moved in with her uncle’s family. One late evening she approached him in the kitchen and in a quiet voice asked:

“Uncle, would you be angry with me if I asked you to find me a job? I don’t want you to misunderstand me. There’s no better place than here but I want to earn some money with my own labour. I’m already an adult.”

“Are you saying that you’ll be leaving us and getting your own apartment?!” her uncle asked in a loud voice.

His tone startled her. She said:

“No, I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t say it but you mean it. Is that what you want? Tell me truthfully. I won’t be angry. I know that you’ve been burdened much here... Of course you have the right to leave. It’s been hard living here. Nobody helps out. They don’t want me to hire a housekeeper to help out and they don’t want to do the work themselves. Before you came we constantly argued about that. I can assure you that I won’t be angry with you if you leave. But I know the others in the family will be disappointed. But you have to admit that they all love you. You have become a real member of this family.

Vera began to cry. Her uncle gave her a hug.

“I don’t know what your mother and father will say about you leaving. They’ll think that we kicked you out,” said her uncle.

Vera raised her hand pretending to hit him. He laughed and said:

“I’m joking…”

* * *

It was unbearably difficult for me, after Milan disappeared from my life. I often thought about my carefree life in the village. I wondered what it would be like if I had stayed there permanently... Why had I come to this place? This was now a cursed city for me. This is what my mother and father had decided for me...

...I remember sitting by the window thinking about things when my mother said to me:

“Your father and I have decided to send you to the city to be with your aunt and uncle and your cousins.”

I remember being afraid. What if I couldn’t manage over there?! What if I embarrassed myself with something. And what if they sent me back to the village? Where would I hide from my shame?

My mother calmed me down. She said “It will be like Dushitsa your sister and your brother, they get along and are fine. You will too. They both have jobs and earn their own piece of bread. They have good jobs and hardly ever complain. And more. They didn’t stay with your aunt and uncle long. They left by their own decision and your uncle wasn’t upset with them. Think about this very carefully. What will you be doing here, in the village? Do you want to be a peasant all your life?!”

And here I am in the city. My mother sewed me a cheap multi-coloured dress and said, “Let this be your new dress.” The matter was closed. Others had decided for me. After that I nervously waited for the day when I would leave.

I got on a train for the first time.

I was very excited when we arrived at the train station. I had never seen a train close up until then, I had seen trains but only from the distance, from the village. I said goodbye to my mother at the station and we both secretly cried. My father accompanied me to the city. It was his decision. Our separation was so painful for me that I didn’t want to get off the train, but I did because I didn’t want to anger my father. What was done was done and now it was too late to turn back. I figured I would stay by myself and avoid strangers. I would be comforted by my sister and brother. With them around I figured I wouldn’t be alone.

We got off the train when we arrived at the train station in the city. My father informed me that we had arrived. I immediately saw my uncle among the many people who were greeting their friends, acquaintances and loved ones.

The moment we got off the train my father and uncle hugged first. Then my uncle gave me a hug. He was so tall that he had to lift me up to give me a kiss. A large black limousine and its driver were waiting for us near the station. I was afraid. Would I know how to get into the limousine?! But everything was easy with my uncle there. The moment we got close to the limousine he opened one of the rear doors. He didn’t wait for the driver to do it. Before I knew it

I found myself sitting in the back seat. My father sat next to me. My uncle sat next to the driver. My uncle looked very happy, like he was taking his own daughter home.

I was amazed at the size of the city, the huge houses and the wide streets. And because the car was traveling fast everything looked like a miraculous dream. As we climbed uphill I noticed all around there were new, smaller but beautiful houses. We stopped in front of one of them. My uncle led us through the yard to the entrance. A girl opened the front door. She looked about my age. Then, after some time, I saw my cousin Lily. We greeted each other but we didn’t hug. Right behind her stood a tall, thin woman with a pale face and a strong smile. She had a strange absence in her eyes. She extended her hand and shook my father’s in a friendly way. She gave me a restrained hug. That was my aunt.

We entered a large room. Lots of tall, green flowers were everywhere. There was a beautiful table and chairs. We were served various things. Some I was seeing for the first time. Everything had already been placed on the table. I was afraid to eat. Everyone insisted that I have something but, as much as I wanted to, I didn’t.

Soon afterwards Lily dragged me into another room. I felt more at ease there. I was more comfortable with her probably because we were close in age. Lily seemed ordinary. While we were alone she asked me many questions about many things. I could barely answer her. She told me in confidence that she didn’t like learning in school much. But she had to, I figured, where else would she learn...

I talked about the school in our village with regret because it went up to grade eight. After that it was impossible for me to travel to a nearby city every day.

“Does that mean you want to continue your education here?” yelled Lily with a strange laugh.

Why was she laughing? What was so funny? Why was she wondering about me wanting to continue my education? Or was it something else? I didn’t say anything to her. Lily continued:

“You know that my mother is an artist, right? She spends all day painting. Can’t wait for someone to replace her in the kitchen. But if you want to learn, no problem. My father is the man for that. Learning is everything to him. He was very upset with your sister Vera because she didn’t stay with us longer... First she was forced to study music... On top of that, because she was thin and tall, my mother advised her to study ballet... They kept pushing her to try things and, at the same time, left her with all the domestic responsibilities. It was good, at least, that she managed to finish typing school. Eventually she’d had enough and left.” Lily told me all this in a single breath.

Then, suddenly, the door was loudly flung wide open and a boy came into the room. Was he younger than Lily?

“I’m your cousin Zoran…” he introduced himself and shook my hand. I hadn’t seen him since he was very young, since before the war.

Before I could process what was happening he gave me a big hug. I barely recognized him. After that he moved away a little. He kept looking at me from the distance. Then he joined us in our conversation.

Again with the question of education. I sensed that they were interested in knowing more about my interest in education primarily because they thought they could replace Vera with me, helping in the kitchen. Cooking food. Washing, cleaning…

I made sure they understood that I was really interested in getting my education!

Then I saw the surprise on their faces... I shouldn’t have rushed into assumptions. Eventually I would understand things. I would quickly learn what was expected of me…

It was about noon when they took me to my room. This was the first time that I had my own room. This was the first time I would be alone without my mother and father... It wasn’t going to be easy.

After a while we all had lunch together.

I said goodbye to my father and he left. I felt a tightness in my chest.

Fortunately, a little later, my sister Vera came over. She gave me a big hug. She greeted everyone warmly which I interpreted as a good thing. In other words she’d had a good relationship while she stayed here. Knowing this made it easy for me.

Vera looked at me like she couldn’t believe I was there. Someone rang the front door bell. One of them opened the door and they all yelled:

“Rade! Rade is here!”

“Where have you been, young man? How long has it been since you were here last?! We should be angry with you. Do you think that because you work as an investigator, you’re too important to come and see us?” my uncle scolded him.

“What are you talking about… important?! I didn’t want to bother you…” Rade justified himself.

“Did you hear that Dushitsa? He was going to bother us! We haven’t seen him for a long time because he thinks he’s going to bother us…” said my uncle with an annoyed tone of voice.

We hugged. He patted me on the shoulder.

That evening I went to bed alone for the first time. In my own room.

Vera said it had been hers before she left. I had to get used to it. She told me many times I would be fine. She said this house has everything your soul desires.

I started my new life with four new people, not very familiar to me but close relatives.

The next day I woke up feeling anxious when I heard my cousins talking. Why aren’t they in school? I heard their voices again. Then I remembered the summer holidays had started. I felt a little better.

There were some things on the breakfast table which were unfamiliar to me. I only ate the food that was familiar to me.

My cousins tired me with the many questions they kept asking. First about whether I had a cat and a dog, horses, donkeys… When I told them we had piglets, they laughed. They were amazed. How could anything about piglets be funny...?

* * *

I couldn’t believe how fast my days passed. Would I always have so many responsibilities?! I didn’t even know what day it was or the date. I managed to do a lot in a short time. My mother would be surprised.

Summer was over. My sister Vera and I didn’t see each other as often as I would have liked. She always had some excuse for not seeing me. She often said she was tired from working. I saw Rade even less. I had to manage on my own.

Like Vera before me, I soon realized that no one in this house except for me cared about anything. Cleaning, cooking, washing dishes. Everything was my job. Now I was Vera.

They were grateful for my help. I was constantly praised. They rewarded me with money and gifts. They often took me out on the town, to the cinema and to the bakery shops and treated me to sweets.

Every day it was the same thing. There was a certain routine that was followed. My aunt would lock herself in her room or in her studio. She would paint or create figures from various materials. My uncle would come home late from some long meeting. He often traveled to places with various delegations. His main concern was the three of us, me and his two children. My aunt ate very little. You

can’t believe how little she ate, literally enough to stay alive. She seemed to have an aversion to food...

The time for eating and sleeping was different for each member of the family. They got out of bed when they felt like it and ate whenever they wanted. When they weren’t out of the house they stayed in their rooms. They only came out when they were needed. I, on the other hand, spent most of my time working in the house. I also read some books.

We usually gathered on Sundays to eat together but not always and not all. We talked about various things. I was mostly silent during these conversations. I spoke the least. My aunt, for some strange reason, talked about everything and about those who referred to themselves as her children. At times I thought maybe she wasn’t their real mother. My uncle tried to cover it up by talking loud and joking a lot.

One Sunday during one of those lunches, my uncle said:

“If you still want to go to school Dushitsa and continue your education, it would be best if you go to evening school.”

I was surprised by his comment and didn’t know why in the evening. I didn’t dare ask either. My uncle explained that there are schools where classes are held in the evenings. They are professional. “Of course,” he said, “you’ll have to choose what you’d like to study.”

I then shyly asked: “What kind of courses are offered?” My uncle listed a few.

“You don’t have to decide right away,” he said, “you have plenty of time for that.”

I felt a little better. In the evening I talked with Lily, I had no one else to talk with, and she was very helpful in explaining the various schools and what they taught. Of all the subjects they taught I was most interested in studying teaching. I used to dream of being a teacher.

The next day when I saw my uncle, I told him that I wanted to study teaching. I wanted him to know that before he enrolled me in something else.

* * *

The school year was approaching. My uncle told me that I was enrolled in the school for teachers. I was overjoyed. Then I got worried – how was I going to go to school. I wasn’t familiar with the city. But my uncle took care of that too. I couldn’t believe it when he told me that he was going to have his driver pick me up from home and take me to school. I assumed that he was going to do this for a while. I told Lily about it. I said, “I’m going to be embarrassed when the other students see me…”

“It will take some time to get used to it,” she reassured me.

A short while later we came up with an idea. When I found out where the school was I’d ask the driver to let me off somewhere nearby.

Less than two months later, I began to manage my transportation on my own. I took trams, buses, trolleybuses... I told my uncle that there was no need for the driver to take me anymore. I started to feel more confident about traveling. Now I felt more like other students. I studied with great interest. Now that I had a goal in mind - to be a teacher, things became somewhat easier for me.

It wasn’t simple or easy to do housework all day and, at the same time, prepare and go to school in the evening. I studied until late at night. My cousins started to help me out with some of the housework. I felt like they had a soft spot for me. I felt like they wanted me to succeed in school. They might have realized that they had impeded Vera and must have felt guilty about it.

Being alone with my aunt wasn’t easy. She was constantly in a bad mood. Outside of painting she must have had some other reason for being constantly sad and in a bad mood. I also understood that her relatives rarely came to visit her. To this day, I don’t know how this

came about but after I escorted one of her visitors, a cousin of hers, to the outer gate of the house, she said:

“I’m very sorry for my cousin. It’s not easy living completely alone in this world. All of her family, mother, father and brother were killed in one of the fascist camps.”

I was shocked when I heard that.

“That’s why she...”, she said but didn’t finish her sentence...

My aunt’s cousin then nodded and left. From that day on I paid more attention to her.

I was happy to live in such a wonderful home. They had everything they needed to work and live well. They were good people. And most of all, they allowed me to study.

* * *

I couldn’t believe I was holding my high school diploma in my hands. I was the happiest of all students. None of them could understand what this diploma meant to me. I knew that if I had stayed in the village, I would never have had this opportunity.

When I came home my cousins had a cake and other good things to celebrate with. Everyone was happy for me. After the congratulations were over the first question my cousins asked was, would I leave them, would I leave their house?

“We won’t let her go,” said my uncle.

I was embarrassed to say anything. I was afraid of being dishonest. Deep inside me, deep in my soul, I felt that I, like my sister Vera, would like to get a job. Earn my own money. Have my own place, rent an apartment where I could be alone when I wanted to be.

“There’s time for all that, let her think about it for a while,” said my uncle and then added, “now let’s celebrate. Later we’ll send a telegram to your parents so that they can rejoice too.”

After that he took out a small, nicely wrapped box from his briefcase. He handed it to me. I opened it with trembling hands. There was a beautiful watch in it. Everyone clapped their hands. My aunt also came out to congratulate me. Lily helped me put the watch on.

“My God, is this really happening to me?! Am I dreaming?! ” It was all true. I was a teacher. With a diploma.

I soon received a letter from my mother and father. They congratulated me on my graduation. They were very happy too. Especially my father.

* * *

The days passed. The weeks. The months. My uncle didn’t mention anything about a job for me. It seemed like he never thought about me working. I didn’t dare mention anything to him because I wasn’t sure that I would be able to work as a teacher here in the city. Also, I was afraid that my colleagues would be more educated than me.

I started reading more books during the evening. Lily kept giving them to me. After that we would discuss what I had read.

* * *

When we were all there having lunch together one Sunday my uncle said:

“There’s a job opening in a kindergarten as a caregiver, where I know the director. It’s a nice place. I think it will suit you for a start.”

Even though I had no idea what the job would be like, I immediately agreed to take it.

“Then get ready because tomorrow, at eight o’clock in the morning, I will take you there. I have already spoke to the director,” said my uncle.

I didn’t look at any of others sitting at the table but I could feel that they were upset. They all went silent. But I was determined to gain my independence.

My heart was pounding when we entered the kindergarten yard. I was afraid people might notice. A tall, young sympathetic looking woman came out to meet us in the hallway. She had black hair and dark eyes. We greeted each other and followed her into a room.

“I believe you will like it here. The collective is complex, we don’t have too many children and the kindergarten is well-organized,” said the woman who spoke fast.

I was so intimidated by the experience that I don’t remember if I said anything. I remember we walked through all the rooms. I remember seeing many happy, cheerful children and met most of the instructors... I remember having some juice.

I was hired as a caregiver. I felt that from that moment on, my whole life was going to change. And it really did starting with my clothes, my lifestyle and the time I spent in the kitchen.

I quickly learned the names of my co-workers and other employees. For a short time I relied on the older and more experienced staff to help me out as much as possible. Then I learned how to deal with the children on my own. I learned to understand their needs when they were separated from their parents, for hours on end, but it wasn’t an easy task. There were many different children with different characteristics. Especially the hypersensitive ones... They would only accept and love you if you gained their confidence.

After working there a few weeks, I felt I was gradually finding my place in the small group. In no time at all I felt like I had worked and lived with them for a long time.

I can’t explain my excitement when I received my first paycheque. It wasn’t just a matter of satisfaction but of being self-assured that I could earn my own living.

Independence. Joy.

I bought a lot of food and drinks and organized a little celebration. Everyone was happy for me, mostly my uncle. I hadn’t seen him in such a good mood for a long time. Even my aunt happily participated.

* * *

It wasn’t long before Dushitsa started thinking about getting her own apartment. It was very difficult for her to leave the family she was living with. She knew it wasn’t going to be easy for them without her and her without them. She remembered her mother mentioning things about Vera when she was going through this. But the desire to be independent was stronger than her ties to being with the family.

For a long time she hesitated asking her sister Vera if she wanted to live together. When she finally asked, Vera reacted with restraint. At the time they were sitting in a small restaurant. Dushitsa said that she thought it would be a good idea if they shared the single room apartment where Vera was now staying. Vera’s answer was:

“That would be good except the room is quite small. If we add another bed and all the other things that would be needed, we would be quite cramped. Also it would be very expensive at this time to look for a two-bedroom apartment. Keep working for a while longer and we’ll see.”

“Our mom and dad will be disappointed if we aren’t together. They will think we are fighting. Rade also won’t understand…” said Dushitsa justifiably.

Dushitsa herself wasn’t sure if she preferred to live alone or with her sister. She added:

“Well, even our uncle, I believe, will be more concerned if I live alone.”

“Like I said, let’s try living this way for now and see what happens later... I’m sure we will manage something…” Vera insisted.

Soon after that Dushitsa rented a very small room on the ground floor of a house with a yard. Vera helped her set it up. Dushitsa was satisfied and happy with every little thing she had.

Soon afterwards her brother Rade came to visit her.

“The three of us in three corners,” Rade remarked about the small size of the room, feeling a bit nervous.

“It could have been bigger,” Dushitsa said without blaming Vera.

“The old folks (parents) will be surprised… If you want you can move in with me,” said Rade in a tone of voice that betrayed him because he didn’t believe Dushitsa would accept. He then quickly added:

“Open your eyes, this is a big city, there are all kinds of people here!”

“I understand, don’t worry,” replied Dushitsa and added “you can pass by here and check on me more often.”

“That’s what you say now until you find a boyfriend, I’ll be a bother after that,” Rade said jokingly.

“It won’t be like that. And I can always prepare something for you to eat. By the way, what do you like to eat? And only God knows, where you do eat…!” replied Dushitsa convincingly.

“We have a canteen at work. The food isn’t that bad. I manage...” said Rade.

Her brother and sister said goodbye to her and left. Dushitsa felt something didn’t seem right with her brother. He didn’t seem to be in the right mood. His job with the Militia probably wasn’t a good fit for him! But he was like that, he would endure.

Dushitsa was luckier. Working as a kindergarten caregiver seemed to be the right fit for her. She loved her job very much. She quickly became friends with almost all her colleagues. The children, no matter how burdensome or mischievous at times, were a real joy.