Front Matter - Part 03

After I sent my children away on vacation I went back to a completely empty apartment. I cried for the first time since Mitko had left. "Life is very cruel," I thought. There is bitterness in everything, even if you get the most desirable thing you want. At times it seemed that what was happening to me could only happen to other people... "That could never happen to me..." I thought. Then, after so many years of living together, Mitko decided to make a drastic move and leave me. He left so unexpectedly that it was a shock to me. I couldn't have even imagined it; that such a thing could happen to me. But it did! Now the question was, "could we patch things up and return to the harmonious life we used to have?' I didn't know; if that was even possible. I felt sorry for our children.

They were torn between their father and me in the best years of their lives. Why? It made no sense... Something that was so wonderful had turned upside down. Now I had nothing left but hope. That hope kept me going. My friend, the psychiatrist, helped me keep that hope alive.

My closest family members, my friends and many others with whom I associated couldn't believe what had happened between me and Mitko. Some tried to convince him to come back home, but apparently he wasn't ready yet.

The only people I didn't hear from were his sister and brother-in- law. They didn't even call me on the telephone. Well, I didn't call them either.

Every time I went to see the psychiatrist to inquire about Mitko, he assured me that it wouldn't be long before Mitko returned to me and our children. But that "not long" continued to prolong. At times I almost lost hope. My whole body convulsed at the thought of "what if it never happened?" I repeatedly asked the psychiatrist to arrange a meeting for me to see Mitko, in his presence of course, but he believed that Mitko wasn't yet ready for that.

"I will decide when you can see him," he kept telling me.

"But you don't understand, Doctor, I'm afraid that the longer we wait the further away he will be from us," I would say to him.

Despite all my pleading the psychiatrist stood his ground.

Sometimes I felt like ignoring his advice and going to see him anyway. "Perhaps when he leaves work," I thought, but I was afraid of aggravating him even more. It was important to me that he hadn't distanced himself from our children. They became more and more mature with each passing month. Not once did they blame me for the difficult situation in which we all found ourselves. They regularly went to see their father and loved him no less than when he was at home.

Unfortunately, after her last visit with the psychiatrist, Violeta had lost all hope that things would be sorted out soon. But the psychiatrist persisted that he was certain that the current situation would be resolved soon. Violeta, however, wasn't so sure... She started to question if listening to the psychiatrist was the right thing to do. The psychiatrist again advised her not to contact Mitko and not to ask him to talk about the hurtful things that had happened to him. Violeta wanted to tell Mitko that at no point did she mean to do anything with regards to purchasing the house, without his agreement. She had no idea that her actions would offend him so much. Mitko surely remembered that she had bought both the first and second car on her own! He had no problem with her making the purchase instead of him. Mitko himself had told her that he wasn't very good at doing such things. Violeta figured that if she spoke to him directly she would find out if Mitko had left because of the house... She wanted to know from him if what she did had humiliated him... She wanted to tell him that she'd bought the house because she believed he would be overjoyed, because he loved Ohrid. About the money...? She wanted to tell him that she wasn't hiding the money for sinister reasons... She hid the money because if Mitko knew it existed he would have spent it.

He knew that... He also knew that they lived a decent and modest life.

Violeta was sure she could convince the doctor to let her speak with Mitko if she explained these things to him the next time she went to see him. On the other hand, if Violeta acted too passively with Mitko he might think that he had been right to leave her.

And what if he thought that she was indifferent to the fact that he'd left home? Would he think she no longer loved him?!

A few days earlier when my children and I were packing their bags for their vacation to Greece, without warning, I asked:

"Did you ever think that I no longer loved your father?" My son and daughter first looked at each other, and then immediately rushed towards me, gave me a hug and said:

"No mother, never...!" I asked the question with hopes that, since they were going to spent a long time with their father, they might be able to convince him that I still cared for him, to assure him that we could resolve our current issues and could again live together as a family like we had before.

Although I didn't tell them this explicitly, I thought the children would understand my message. I don't know why I hoped that after vacationing in Greece, they would be able to convince their father to come home with them. But that didn't happen. Mitko didn't come home.

For the first time in a long time, that summer Mitko didn't come to Ohrid. I didn't know what to tell my friends. There was no other way out except to lie to them. I told them he had problems with his spine and the doctors ordered him to lie down!

The children and I became used to living alone. After returning from Greece my son and daughter immediately came home to be with me.

Maybe they were sorry that they'd left me alone all this time while vacationing with their father.

A few days after they arrived we went to see the house. My son and daughter couldn't believe how much it had changed.

"Is this the same house?" one of them asked. "No, it can't be!" replied the other one.

"Mom, in spite of all the obstacles, how did you manage to dress it up so well? We can live in it now..." one of them said.

The next day they called their father begging him to come and see the house. They even took pictures of it and sent them to him.

Unfortunately Mitko didn't come.

One day Mitko came home unexpectedly, just like he'd left. A taxi stopped in front of our house one afternoon and Mitko got out of it.

The taxi driver opened the trunk and handed him his suitcases. After that I heard Mitko come inside the yard, unlock the front door of the house and walk in. He then put his suitcases in the hallway. I was lying down on the couch in the living room pretending to be asleep.

My heart started beating fast. I didn't know what to do. Mitko tiptoed inside the house quietly and when he saw me lying down he moved his suitcases into the bedroom. Some time later I heard him taking a shower. I figured he'd come back.

Some time later the children came home.

When I heard them come inside I pretended to wake up. They didn't make a big deal about their father returning. They behaved like adults and showed no surprise. It was like he had just come back from a business trip. They started telling him how they were doing in school, what the teachers were like, what their plans were for their education in the future, etc. I tried not to meet Mitko's gaze and he did the same. I remembered the advice my friend the psychologist had given me about how to behave around him. Most importantly to be calm...

When I mustered up enough courage to speak I said, "Who wants to set the table for dinner? And who wants to make the salad?" Both of my children ran into the kitchen and began to bring out plates, forks, knives and glasses. Mitko went into the kitchen and started making the salad, which he used to make regularly. My daughter turned on the television where we watched advertisements for vacation destinations...

After watching for a while my daughter was first to speak, "Dad, this year I'm not going to object, like other years, if you say you want to spend the summer in Ohrid! If we go there you don't have to spend money on hotels!" We all laughed. The program on television started playing beautiful music like we had especially ordered it.

From then on we continued with our lives like nothing had happened. Like Mitko had never left...

.Even though I was prepared for anything after Mitko returned home, I still felt like I was living in a vortex.

I was startled when, a few days ago, I heard the psychiatrist's voice on the telephone. I hadn't heard from him for a long time. I thought that something bad had happened to Mitko. But then he said:

"My dear Violeta I have good news for you. A little while ago Mitko unexpectedly came to see me. He said he had been asleep for a long time. When he woke up he left the house. He was so confused he stepped out on the road and was almost run over by a speeding car. After he recovered from his shock he thought about it. He sat down on the side of the road and watched his whole life flash before his eyes, like he was watching a film. Panting from exhaustion he entered my office trying to catch his breath. Moments later he said, 'Violeta may have been wrong for what she did but she didn't deserve the harsh punishment she received from me... Her and our children... I'm afraid there's no going back for me. I don't believe Violeta will ever forgive me...' He said all that in a single breath.

After he said that I thought about it for a moment and said, 'If she still loves you, and you love her, I think forgiveness will come on its own...' His face turned bright and before I could add anything, he left my office. I don't know what he will decide to do..." concluded the doctor and hung up the phone.

I stood there listening quietly until the connection was broken... The children must have heard what the doctor said and started hugging me excitedly. Then they ran around the apartment jumping for joy.

.We were all so grateful to the doctor... We were a family again...

In the fall, I submitted another request to the City Assembly asking for a permit to do some general work on the outside of the house. I made the request both in writing and orally. I tried to convince the president, the second person in charge from the top in the City Assembly that the house, although small, should have a better appearance, especially on the outside because it was located on the first row, next to the lake, where tourists and locals went by. From what I had heard, the president was not only good at his job, but he was one of the most visible, cultured and educated persons in the City Assembly. I figured he would understand what I was trying to do; which was investing money in the betterment of our community.

Even though my house was small, if properly looked after, it could add to the beauty of that unique, wonderful and beautiful coastline.

This time I got a positive response and it was miraculous! This person thought about it and decided to approve my request. I couldn't believe it. I could hardly restrain my excitement when I went to see him. After I spoke with him I made an appointment to see him again in three days to pick up my permit. I excitedly thanked him many times as I left his office.

Unfortunately, on the third day, I was detained in Skopje doing urgent official work at my job so I asked my sister Mirjana to go to Ohrid early in the morning and pick up my permit. I arrived in Ohrid in the afternoon.

Like we agreed, my sister arrived in Ohrid in the morning and went to the Assembly office at nine o'clock when it opened. About two hours later Mirjana called me on the phone to tell me that she wasn't able to get my permit, she wasn't even able to see the president's secretary. She was held up in the reception area as people came and went. She was told to remain there until she was called by the president's secretary. Several hours later I called her to see what was happening but I wasn't able to get her on the phone. I was getting annoyed not knowing what was happening.

After I finished the job I was working on in Skopje, I took the first bus to Ohrid. I found the house locked. My sister wasn't there. I thought she had gone somewhere to do something else. I figured she didn't know I was here and was getting anxious looking for her, or she figured I hadn't yet arrived. In any case I was getting frustrated waiting for her.

Finally there was a knock on the front door. I figured it was her and ran to open it. It was her but by the expression on her face I wasn't sure if she'd gotten my permit. Now that she was here I no longer cared that she was late. She handed me my permit and said, "success

- finally!" I was about to ask her what had happened when she said, "Be patient, I will tell you what happened, I will tell you what obstacles I had to go through this morning to get you your permit and why I am late. I came back straight from the Assembly!"

"You mean to tell me that you spent this whole time, from this morning, at the Assembly?" I asked in disbelief.

"Yes, I spent all this time there. I haven't eaten anything since this morning, I haven't had anything to drink, not even water," she replied sounding tired, shaking her head as she spoke.

"Really?!" I asked and then said, "First have a bite to eat and something to drink and then you can tell me what happened." While Mirjana was having something to eat I looked over the permit. When I was done I went over and gave my sister a big hug and then I jumped with joy all around the house.

After Mirjana was finished eating she started to tell me what had happened. She said she was told to wait until the president signed the permit. She was told that the permit had been typed and would be given to her soon. But that didn't happen. After waiting for several hours in the reception area she was finally called to go to the secretary's office. There too my sister sat and waited for hours.

While waiting she saw the president come out of his office several times. Each time he came out and passed by the secretary he looked uncomfortable. He was angry, sweating and looked nervous.

Something wasn't right but Mirjana didn't know what it was. All this time he didn't ask her to go and come back tomorrow. He kept her there. She understood that he was trying hard to get her the permit the same day, but she didn't know why he just didn't do it.

In a twisted way the secretary tried to explain to her that the permit had to also be signed by another authorized engineer but all the engineers were out in the field... And the permit would be signed when they returned but the secretary either didn't know or she didn't want to tell my sister when they were coming back.

"It seems that the engineers went away on purpose, they literally disappeared after they found out the president was looking for them," said the secretary in a quiet tone of voice.

"The end of the working day was approaching," continued Mirjana.

"The president opened his office door and angrily asked the secretary to call another engineer... I don't remember what her name was. He also told the secretary not to tell her why he wanted to see her. The secretary immediately left and soon after came back with a woman, who was probably the engineer. The woman walked into the president's office and moments later I heard the president say 'I'm ordering you to sign this permit; it's your official duty!' After a short silence the president's office door opened, the engineer came out and left.

I then heard the call bell ring. The secretary immediately went into the president's office and when she came out she handed me the permit and said, 'Tell your sister Violeta that I couldn't believe that her enemy had so many tentacles. How can there be so much evil in the souls of people? Also tell her that there are good people too.'..." "My dear sister," I said, "the president didn't want us to know that he was surrounded by corrupt people. Worse than that is the fact that those people work against him and are trying to depose him. They oppose him at every opportunity and won't allow him to act according to his conscience... And he knows that." I have won the battle... for now. Or at least it seemed that way. I thought that my next door neighbour's belief that he could force me to give up my house by harassing and pressuring me would be reduced to a minimum.

But that didn't happen. He didn't relent and neither did his wife.

They both continued to threaten me and my family and harass my workers. Also from time to time, they damaged my property at every opportunity.

My biggest fear was that my husband, his male friends or even the workers might get fed up being harassed, lose their patience and physically attack the neighbour. I did my best to avoid that. Most often I tried to solve conflicts on my own by calling the authorities.

That helped... most of the time.

One time one of my workers climbed on the roof to rearrange some of the ceramic roof tiles. I was inside the house when suddenly I heard the next door neighbour yell loudly at the worker, ordering him to stop working and get off the roof. I immediately found myself in my yard. I saw the neighbour standing in his yard threatening the man with violence. It sounded to me like he said he was going to get his gun and shoot him... I immediately asked the worker to come down. In the meantime my next door neighbour grabbed a pick and raised it high in an attempt to scare the worker and force him to stop working.

I called the police. Two policemen arrived immediately, like they were nearby waiting for the call. The policemen made an attempt to detain my neighbour but somehow they quickly agreed to just give him a warning; to refrain from violent behaviour.

His wife, on the other hand, kept shouting insulting words every time she passed by me, and sometimes spat at me. She even stuck her tongue out one time while standing at her window, believing no one else would see her. It was comical!

That summer Milena too came to Ohrid but just for a few days. She was supposed to travel abroad, to Sweden, where her daughter was married and lived. Milena was my age and the more I got to know her, the more I appreciated her company. Even though she had been left single and alone at a young age, her husband had recently died and her daughter had moved abroad, she seemed happy and had a constant gentle smile on her face. Her naturally blond hair stood like a halo around her head and perfectly matched the movement of her restless blue eyes. She often laughed out loud and made others around her laugh. She often said that she had an obligation in Belgrade to take care of two older women, her mother and her mother-in-law. At the same time, she worked for a big airline and had a lot of responsibility.

It seems Milena came to Ohrid to see the progress we had made on our small house. She hadn't seen the house since she'd sold it to me.

She was curious to know what we had done with it. While we were renovating the place she called to tell me not to block the door that connected her big house to mine and not to fence our two backyards because there was no other exit door to the back. Had we blocked the door we wouldn't be able to go out if there was any need for it, especially if we needed to do roof maintenance. She was very helpful with her suggestions. Having a common backyard was necessary for both of our houses.

There was a small old wooden door located at the back of the house exiting into the yard. It had an unusual huge antique door lock. From that we found out that the house had been built about a hundred years earlier.

It appeared that both my little house and Milena's big house were built during Ottoman times. After doing some research we found out that both houses were built by a Turkish governor from Bitola, so that he could vacation in Ohrid, the most beautiful city in all of Macedonia. He often went there alone or with his friends. The house had a huge old wooden gate, with an entrance from the lake. The staircase at the entrance extended to both houses symmetrically, ending at the veranda where there were tall wooden doors leading to the four huge chambers. Inside there were three other doors, two leading to the two bathrooms and one to the pantry. The ceilings in the rooms were covered with wood. Carved in the centre of the ceilings were wooden ornaments. Wooden staircases led to the upper floor. The upper floor had a number of rooms. A dozen or so small glass skylights were built in the middle of the ceiling above one of the rooms. All the rooms, both on the lower and upper floors, had wooden floors.

The small house was used to house the servants who had direct access into the big house through an entrance that connected the two houses. This way the servants could go from the little house to the big house without having to go outside. Over the years, however, someone sealed the connecting door with a wall. The front door of the small house was also very old but it was installed later, along with iron bars on the windows which were installed for protection by the family who later acquired the house.

When the workers started doing repairs on the back wall where the old door was located, we decided to replace the big door with a smaller, more modem one. But in order to do that we needed to build a smaller door frame. A large part of the wall had to be closed off. At this point, however, none of our neighbours knew that we had obtained a permit to do the job.

Just as the door frame was coming together, our next door neighbour and his wife ran from their backyard into ours and started pushing the frame with their hands, trying to wreck it.

The workers and I were amazed at their brazen attitude. As we stood there stunned, we started yelling at them to stop doing that. When my husband Mitko heard us yelling he came running outside, still sleepy. He was sleeping in the big house and was awoken by our shouts. The moment he saw the neighbours pushing the door frame, which had just been built, he grabbed a huge brick and was ready to toss it at them. Thank God one of the workers grabbed him and saved the day.

The two quickly fled back into their yard. They rushed so fast that they almost broke their legs running through the pile of broken bricks. From that day on, they were more cautious when they expressed their displeasure.

After that incident I decided to install bright lights in the yard and keep them on all night as well as have someone stay on guard. One of us either had to stay awake all night and watch the place or sleep in the yard to make sure nothing was destroyed. It seemed like we were renovating our house during the World War II occupation.

When we weren't there, our next door neighbours often threatened our workers in an attempt to convince them not to work for us. They frequently intimidated them, blackmailed them and threatened their lives. Many of them left.

After we got our permit we managed to renovate some part of the house each day. One day I was alone with the workers. It was a Sunday. I had asked them to remove some old ceramic roof tiles and replace them with new ones. It was around nine o'clock in the morning. Just as they started working and hadn't even removed ten tiles, a stranger came into my yard. He was wearing pyjamas under his pants. He introduced himself as the president of the Ohrid Municipal Court. I didn't know the Ohrid Municipal Court president nor what he looked like, but I began to wonder if there was something wrong with this person. Immediately after he introduced himself he began to threaten both me and my workers. He ordered them to stop working immediately. He said that there was a dispute regarding a wall, the one on the neighbour's side, and therefore we were not allowed to repair anything in the house. He tried to tell us that the house I'd bought had only three walls, and that the fourth wall belonged to my next door neighbour. He also implied that the roof of my house stood on top of my neighbour's wall! And because of that my neighbour was suing me. And because of the pending lawsuit all construction activity had to stop until this issue was resolved by the court.

At first I was confused but as I quickly recovered from my confusion I told this person that I hadn't been notified of such a lawsuit. I also said that I hadn't received an order to temporarily stop the renovations on my house. Unfortunately he pretended not to hear me and continued to loudly threaten me and my workers. At that point I got angry and said:

"I don't know who you are or who you claim to be. If you truly are the President of the Court then please give me a written order to stop the work. This kind of business is usually conducted during business hours on a working day, not early in the morning on a Sunday. You come out here in the yard of my house on a non-working day, at nine o'clock in the morning telling me you're the Court President and I'm supposed to believe you? And why are you chasing my workers and ordering them to stop working? What do they have to do with you?" I also said, "Since I don't know who you are then please give me a signed order to stop the work. Also make sure you write your full name and your personal identification number on it so that I can verify who you are." Even before I was finished speaking to him I pulled out a pad of paper and a pen from my purse and placed them on the terrace table.

When I was done talking I pointed to them and said, "Now write the order!" At that moment he looked away and spoke to my next door neighbour who was standing behind me. I hadn't noticed him but he was standing right behind me. He said:

"Imagine the nerve of this woman. She doesn't believe that I am the President of the Court! Tell her, please!" My neighbour and his wife both said:

"Yes, he's the president, he is!" Encouraged by their validation he began to yell at me. He said:

"You impudent woman...! How dare you question my credentials and ask me to do this?" He then angrily pointed at the pad of paper and pen.

I then brazenly said, "Who then should I be asking to write the order if not you, the Court President. If you truly are the Court President than that's who you are but don't expect me to believe you. A court president does business in court on a working day, not in my yard on a Sunday morning wearing pyjamas and attempting to prevent my workers from doing what they are paid to do!" After I said that his face turned red and he started to walk away towards the exit of my yard. I guess he'd decided that he'd had enough. But just as he was about to leave another stranger arrived.

He flew into my yard like an arrow. He was a short, ugly fat man.

He was out of breath probably from running. He must have been called by my next door neighbour. From the first step he took into my yard he started yelling at my workers to stop working. Initially he ignored me but then he said:

"I'm Judge Petreski, I am handling Trajan Ceneski's court request and I order you to stop the work immediately, because both you and your workers will be charged and fined!" Trajan Ceneski was my next door neighour.

Just like I told the other person who was still standing in my yard, I said to him, "Every citizen knows that judges lead legal disputes in the courts, as prescribed by law, and not in people's yards and by intimidating them." Like the other person he too ignored what I said and again started yelling at the workers and attempted to take down their names.

When I asked him to give me the order to stop working in writing he pretended he didn't hear me right and said, "Are you refusing to accept the court order?" This was a ploy on his part to make it look like I was disobeying the Court.

I then loudly said, "Stop your lies, I asked you to give me the court order in writing!" Just as I said that another person landed in my yard. This person was shorter and uglier than the supposed judge. He introduced himself as Ratko the building inspector. Now I had three strangers in my yard who claimed to be government officials. I guess my next door neighbour had also called him to strengthen his attack against me.

This man too started harassing my workers even more violently. He ordered them to clean themselves up, get dressed in their normal clothing and leave the house. I advised them to do so, so as not to face any consequences. The building inspector, or whoever he was, was also rude to me.

After the workers went inside to change I was left outside with the circus consisting of my next door neighbour, his wife, the so-called president of the Court, the so-called judge and the so-called building inspector. What a spectacle this was... After the workers hastily left, the so-called building inspector triumphantly closed the door. After that they all shook hands with great satisfaction, loudly cackling with pleasure and rejoicing, attracting the attention of locals who just happened to be passing by. Some came over to see what was going on and were amazed by the spectacle. Some mocked them while wondering what their reward would be for this brazen act of corruption. It was clear to me that this wasn't only an abuse of office, but also an abuse of the law. What kind of lawlessness was this in this day and age?!

A few days later I found a thin, dirty sheet of paper stuck in my door which looked nothing like an official document. It was just an ordinary piece of paper claiming to be a court order to stop all construction work on my house. It had no date, no stamp and the signature was smudged. It became clear to me that this was an act on their behalf to placate my next door neighbour. Why had they committed this illegal act? Only they knew.

A little later I informed the authorities in writing about this. I told them what had happened and that these characters who were charged with upholding the law were actually abusing their privileges.

Surprisingly the authorities took some measures to get the truth. The Court President was forced to leave his post. The building inspector was transferred to another job. Only the judge remained in his old position.

Unfortunately, even after all that, my next door neighbour didn't give up on his attempts to pressure us to give up our house. My other neighbours were surprised at his ill-will towards us and no longer kept silent. When asked they told the truth. That my neighbour was given many opportunities to buy this house, but he didn't want to. It was clear that he hoped to eventually acquire the house for free after it was condemned to be demolished. So why did my next door neighbour go through all this with me? Was he angry for his own mistakes? The entire situation he put us through was absurd. When I bought the house I knew nothing of its history, especially with my next door neighbour.

This reminded me of a recent comical incident that took place between two people, who were actually close friends. One day these two went fishing with their friends at the lakeshore. They were using custom made hooks. One of them caught a big fish weighing several kilograms, but as he tried to reel it in his fishing line snapped and he lost the fish with his hook left in its mouth. Four or five days later the same group of men went fishing again at the same spot. This time the other man caught a big fish and managed to reel it in. When he brought it ashore, everyone saw that it had the other man's hook in its mouth. At that point the man who had previously caught it and lost it yelled:

"Hey, that's my fish! Give it to me! That's my hook in its mouth.

You all know that... That fish belongs to me... " he said and grabbed the fish attempting to take it forcefully from his friend.

"How can that be your fish when I caught it with my hook and reeled it in with my rod? You lost your fish the other day. It went back into the lake! The fish I caught is mine!" said the other man.

At that point an argument ensued which could have ended badly.

Fortunately the others confirmed that the fish belonged to the person who had reeled it out of the lake, thus ending the argument... This was similar to how the situation with my house went.

One of the things that encouraged me to continue to fight for my house was the fact that almost all my neighbours disapproved of my next door neighbour's unscrupulous behaviour.., his and his wife's.

Even his own close relatives, who lived close by, didn't approve of his conduct. When people began to find out about my next door neighbour's unfair practices in his dispute with me, they started giving me their support. That included two young brothers with university degrees. They stopped by my fence every time they passed by, encouraging me to fight and giving me their support.

There was also a Turkish family that lived on the same street right behind my next door neighbour... father, mother, son and daughter.

They were native to Ohrid, humble people, and, as some would say, good, hardworking people. They owned a shop in the city and made a good living. They were on good terms with all their neighbours.

Every time we ran into them they always smiled and had something nice to say. They won me over the moment I met them. Their children had been raised among Macedonian children and were good friends with them. There was no difference at all between them and the Macedonians except for their religion, traditions and customs.

They spoke Macedonian just like us. For centuries their relations, sociability and friendship with their neighbours had been nurtured.

They always greeted each other when they met and never failed to celebrate each other's special religious holidays. When I met the lady of the house, the children's mother, I could see from her noble face that she had passed on her characteristic traits and behaviour to her children. It was the same with her husband.

However, I didn't meet the Turkish lady's husband until much later.

One day I was on the sidewalk trying to fold a large nylon sheet that had been left on top of my fence by my workers after they removed it from the roof of my house. I tried to pull it out and fold it on my own but I was unable. As I was struggling a stranger pulled up and helped me. I politely thanked him. I later found out that he was the Turkish woman's husband.

After all the troubles we'd had with our drinking water we found out that there was a clear water spring at the end of the street. The water traveled through a large pipe and emptied into a decorative well.

The well was located in the courtyard of the two brothers I mentioned earlier. The two brothers lived in the same house, were married and had two children each. Their mother, Velika, also lived with them and they all got along well. The well was practically available to whoever wanted water and the courtyard gate was always open. This is what their father, who one day unexpectedly died, wanted and by doing so they fulfilled his bequest. Their yard was full of many kinds of flowers and green plants, beautifully arranged and cared for by the family with love and attention. The place was so beautiful that anyone who went in the courtyard didn't want to leave. Following the pathway to the house after entering the yard gate was a natural canopy of kiwi trees loaded with overhanging fruit. These, as well as other trees, kept a thick shade over the tables set up in the courtyard and fountains gushing spring water. It was no surprise that many tourists rented their two-story house and spent their summers there year after year. All the paths in the courtyard were paved with terrazzo and light brown pieces of marble. The environment all around was beautifully arranged. The decorations were created by the skilful hands of the family, especially the hands of the younger brothers and their mother.

People who regularly visited their place felt their vitality renewed.

The clean currents of air that gently blew over the lake waters day and night, the spring water that people regularly drank were made possible by this noble family. All these good things certainly contributed to preserving people's health.

Their yard was separated from their neighbour's yard by a small fence made of several evergreen trees, each artistically pruned to a special and beautiful shape. The place was furnished with tables and benches made of thick natural wood, arranged in close proximity next to each other. The various decorative trees all around were of different shapes and sizes. The yard was also decorated with many colourful flowers. And in all this resided the two brothers and their families. Their two story house with several apartments was especially built to accommodate tourists. Even though this place wasn't at the lakeshore, by its beauty, hospitality and good service it attracted many people. No one seemed to mind that the lake was fifty metres away at the end of the street.

Next to the yard of these people was another two-story house where a family of four lived. They supported themselves by making and selling candles. They were so busy working they had no time to socialize with their neighbours. It felt like they were living closed inside the walls of their house. But that wasn't true, most of their days they spent selling their candles. Their craft was very important especially among people of faith. Their children also helped with the business.

Next to the candle makers' house was the house where our friends Nikola and Ljubica lived. Their house was old and dilapidated and looked like it was leaning against the candle makers' house. Nikola worked in one of the few local factories in this town, which you could count on your fingers. He was quite thin and had a devilish expression on his face. He was often humorous and always had something to say, as if it was constantly on the tip of his tongue. He was well liked by many people. Most often his jokes had an undertone of satire addressed at the current government. He even joked about people passing by, about tourists he didn't even know.

In his jokes he often compared people's behaviour to that of animals and birds. One could say that he was full of wisdom and cunning.

His wife, my good friend Ljubica, worked at the Historical Archives. She was devoted to her household and domestic duties.

Their daughter was married in Skopje and lived there with her husband and children. Their son lived with them.

According to some legal technicality, Ljubica was scheduled to retire from her job prematurely and soon. She was very disappointed when she found out. The next time I saw her she was very worried about how she would survive without a job. She was also worried about how she would spend her time. Her prospects of getting another job were slim because this was a time when companies were disbanding and factories closing down. This, of course, was done deliberately by the people in power to devalue the worth of government owned assets so that they could seize them for themselves at lower prices. Not too long after Ljubica lost her job, Nikola and their son, who worked in the same factory, also lost their jobs. All of a sudden all three were out of work.

One day when we were sitting on the stone fence at the lakeshore, near our houses, Ljubica said:

"We just planted a vegetable garden, I hope that will be enough. I don't know how else we're going to survive.

I knew that Ljubica was capable of fine embroidery and had done a lot of embroidery work, especially on large tapestries.

So I mentioned to her that I'd heard that expatriate Macedonians visiting Macedonia adored that kind of stuff and wanted to buy them for large sums of money and take them back with them to remind them of home. She laughed and said:

"Poor us if we have to depend on them..." I then remembered one time she'd told me how much she wanted to go to art school but that her parents wouldn't let her. Then without even asking her, they enrolled her in the school of economics.

"If not embroidery why not art?" I replied. "I know it's kind of boring but you could start drawing again. What do you say?" She laughed again.

"You're kidding me, right?" she said.

A few days later she invited me for coffee and shyly showed me a sketch she was working on. It was of a stream with a weeping willow on the side with hanging branches. It was nice, I really liked it.

"You see, you are really talented!" I said.

When I was ready to go I offered to buy the drawing and immediately took out some money, not much but also not a little.

She laughed even more this time but I gave her the money anyway. I put the money on her table, grabbed the sketch and ran for the exit.

She tried to put the money in my pocket but couldn't catch me.

I hadn't seen her for a while. But when we met at the lake, she boasted that she had made more sketches.

I found out from our neighbours that a famous painter had come to her house to vacation for the summer and saw her sketches and paintings. His encouragement seemed to have awakened her desire to paint. Months and years later she made contact with many painters who helped her learn the craft. So painting became her daily activity for many hours. She continued to do this for years and painted and sold several hundred paintings, some on canvas. Her husband Nikola helped her frame them and participated in several exhibitions of amateur painters. She even managed to show her paintings at an exclusive exhibition set up just for her.

Her husband Nikola spent most of his time in the streets or on the lakeshore promoting Ljubica's paintings with much wit and humour.

He contributed a lot to the affirmation of Ljubica's paintings. He himself was the son of artists. But even though he was a craftsman, he greatly appreciated art. Their house was filled with many artistic paintings painted by good artists and together with Ljubica's paintings it looked like an art gallery.

Our street became even more beautiful when another large, modem house was added to it. It was built on the site of an old, empty Turkish house which had been locked up for years. As a result more space was created to accommodate vacationing tourists who came to Ohrid from different countries from all over the world. Even though they were middle aged, the owners worked tirelessly to create the right conditions for their guests. Their children, who already had their own families, helped them as much as they could.

The former multi-story Music School, located on the corner of our street, was one of the buildings most noticed and photographed by tourists in the whole area. This building really looked imposing with its oval windows overlooking the lake. It had taken many years to build it but it was worth it. Even more striking were the multi-coloured flowers hanging down, like curtains, which decorated many of the windows. Unfortunately the building was privately owned by wealthy families who didn't open it for tourists to spend their summer there.