Days of our life and why I can never go back Home! (Day 15)

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(Edited)

I was reading @revisesociology article about the land, and this kind of reminded me of my childhood. Curious times, which, in retrospective, prepared me for times like today. It was long long ago, during the comunism, in some Eastern European country (Romania). As teenagers, we used to go for what was called 'patriotic work' where basically we were used as free labor, to help with the harvest, and even the preparation sometimes. We were climbing three, spend two weeks every year in September, when the school started, picking fruits (if I was lucky, as I eat more fruits than veg), with a small 5 litre (or maybe kg, the memory of that tends to fade, but it was a small buccket hald the size of the normal one), where we would put grapes, or fruits or strawberries or whatever else we will pick. You should come with your own 5 kg bucket from home, to do the work, and this was important because, at the end of the day, you could take it home full, with whatever you gathered. There was even some quota, like for example if you were getting apples, you should pick at least 25 buckets per day. We were innocent back then, some were doing their quota faster, and then help others to finish theirs (hint: that girl you liked). Well, sometimes were even girls helping the boys they liked, so, I can be politically correct. This word did not existed back then, and we were doing our free labor at 14 and over, with knifes and scissors, and nobody ever had an accident, in my four years of college. No risk assessment, no sily games.

Before the school, in the summer, we were also busy, helping family or grandparents, in the beginning of August with watermelons (sometimes), end of the month with potatoes. Fun fact, last year I planted some potatoes on my 4 square meter garden, and I had an amazing harvest (3 kg). This year I put just flowers, lots of various flowers, as I want to look and see something beautiful and colored.

So, going back to those years, all of us, even as kids, we did know our way around a field or a garden. Now that I think, my dad even teached me how to put some tree branch to another, the way that you got an apple to make pears, I do not know how you call that in English, is it grafting? So you can confuse little kids, or make them believe in magic. If you don't know that apple tree making pears, you lived in a rich, industrial country.

So, rounding it up, we were working hard, even as teenagers. We were not paid for that. Actually, you had a get out of jail free card, in my school. Kind of. If you were there at the patriotic work the whole two weeks, you could just skip once when you did not learn the lesson, if you will ask the teacher not to check you. But I think this was also like a small contract in my school only.

Then, as I start to remember, we use to have 'manual work' as a class, where you would have to learn all the basics of being a handyman, so you can make stuff and repair thingsa in your own house. We will start small at 12, doing our first plane model, out of wood, and then advance, until we will do staff that other company ordered, like door hinges and so. We would use a saw, hammer, nails, electric and industrial machinery, and the induction was like a half an hour at the beginning of the school year, where the woodwork teacher (we call it the master worker, like a master sarge of some sorts), will take us around and show us how they work, telling us where not to put our hands. Yet, no accident happen in all my school years. We would not mess around with that staff.

There was some division between sexes, as the girls were doing mostly girl stuff, learn how to crochet or knitt, still, if one of the girls wanted to do the class with the boys, nobody will care about it. Boys doing girls stuff, no way. Our class has always over 30 people, standing somewhere between 33-34. We were a big class, and yet, 30 years later, I still remember all of them, sitting in their allocated places. Yes, the places were allocated, with the good ones in front, and the lazy ones in the back. No idea why. Unless you were really naughty, that will get you a place in the front, like before the teacher desk. To keep an eye on you.

We didn't have much, and yet, back then we were happy. In a way that you can be now. It was no stress, no anxiety, and if we went out to play in the schoolyard, we were always enough to have 3 full footbal teams (3 x 11) and reserves, with the winner standing on the field, and the loser taking a break. In our free time, oh, this one, we also had clubs, all kind of them, the electronic club, where you would build all those little circuits doing some fun stuff, like clapping to switch of the light, and many more, the aeronautical club, where you were mainly doing plane models, most of them able to fly. The foreign language club, the music one, there were so many, and you would have only one or two hours per week to go there.

Our parents were out for work most of the day, and we will cook for ourselves, or at least heat the meal, if we were lucky enough to have some left from the day before, we were cleaning the house, go shopping, do homework and play outside. All of it without parental supervision, from as soon as a 10-12 year old. Going to school, I think our parents took us in the year 1 first day, after that we were going by ourselves. Even in the winter, with the snow up to hour knees. No one ever will use the car to go to school, at least not until the last year of college, when we will have our own car.

 "la-coada.jpg"

(Queue to buy oranges on Christmas)

Everything was simple, and yes, ignorance was a bliss. We got some issues, as you were restricted to go outside the country, especially is the Western Europe, you could not talk bad about the government, or the police, or the communist party, and shoppingwise, it was not much in the shops. Oranges and bananas were available only once per year, on Christmas, and this is the thought that started everything, as I was talking few days ago about the way of me associating orange smell with Chrismas time, and the nostalgia of those moments. We did have farmers market, where you could buy fresh milk, cheese, veg and fruits. But most of us were having parents or grandparents in countryside, with huge gardens, growing chickens, ducks, sheeps, pigs and cows. You only needed to buy bread and coffee, as the story goes.

Now I look back, and I realise that Home is for me now a place in Time, not a place in Space. I can go back where I grow up, but I am not feeling Home anymore. Everything changed. As you read this, you may start to understand why sometimes it is good to slow down, and to enjoy every little moment. As the past is gone, and you are right here, in the moment. Which make me think at some Belgian hot chocolate on a stick, hidden in my cupboard, kept for a special occasion, which is today, a day as good as any other day.

Your environment and your mind (or the Hive-mind - not hive related) will try to shape you, and change use, and use you. But you need to learn who you really are, and how to go back to your core convictions. If you know for sure who you are, and you can anchor back to your true self, then your life will be a proof of happiness, as well as a proof of beauty.

There are requirements, as you may need to be a bit older to start to understand all these ramblings, but, even if you only read them and thought about your life, then my job is done.

Remember who you are, Simba!



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I found the text great, kinda hard to swallow at some points, but such is life. The white n Black photo source is not show on ecency, did you provided a source or im searching for the inexistence? XD

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(Edited)

it is from my computer, i will check. shows fine on hive.blog.

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Oh nice, i found it cool so i wanted to see it on more high quality, i dont know why i enjoy looking at old photos xD

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(Edited)

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