This means war.

From Orthodox Easter, 5/5/2013

"To them, church wasn't about accepting Christ as your savior, 

it was about finding your divinity and celebrating it in others even when it's difficult." 

- from a friend's sister's tribute to her missionary grandparents

Happy Orthodox Easter (and Cinco de Mayo!)

 I'm writing you from the beautiful home of my gracious host family in the mountain town of Kratovo, Macedonia, where I spent my first 3 months of Peace Corps language training.  I arrived at my host parent's house on Friday along with my host sister Maja who works as a dentist in Skopje and with her friend Afrodita, a wonderful doctor-to-be who comes from a Muslim/Roma family and is as eager as I am to experience new religious/ cultural traditions.  We have shared lots of laughter (what a blessing it is!) with this family here in Kratovo.

The lovely Afrodita and Maja.

Happy Birthday Maja!

 We attended 11pm Easter vigil service last night at the Orthodox church. The service began outside the ancient stone church, with the tall, dark and handsome priest (with long black hair pulled back in a ponytail) lighting the first candle. From that one candle, like wildfire spread light to all of our slender yellow beeswax candles until the entire crowd was lit up by candlelight. The priest (who is married with two children), began a procession around the outside of the church, preceded by an old, white haired man with a blue cloak throttling a bell that was a bit harsh on the ears and two alter boys carrying Polynesian-esque wooden leaf paddles (I couldn't see them up close) followed by the priest (and co) and a crowd of candle-bearing folks like us. By the time we could have joined the procession around the church, the priest had finished his third lap with a finale outside the front doors of the church.  The priest banged on the closed doors three times, and was denied access until the third time. When  the doors were opened by a mysterious presence within and a church service began inside (standing room only). 

 We stood for a few minutes, before heading back to my host sister's house for some good ol' Orthodox Easter egg wars. 
We had each brought with us our favorite dyed Easter egg, and proceeded to hit each other's eggs until there was one winning egg that still remained in tact.  I'm proud to say that my egg, which I had geniously decorated to depict two sword fighting rabbits (from stickers of cute bunnies and Christianesque crosses) won the first round! After that, it was feasting, food and birthday cake for Maja's 27th birthday (which we had delayed for two days due to fasting from all animal products until 12am on Easter).
After a short night's rest, we were up early to help my host mom prepare the Easter lamb feast. I tried the local delicacies of lamb brains, stomach and intestines for the first time, but passed on the eyes and tongue. I filled up instead on homemade cakes, breads and salad fresh from the garden.  Oh, and some homemade moonshine and white wine too. 

Lamb brains. Mmmmm.

I love how fresh everything is here. And made from scratch.  It's a wonderful experience to enjoy food that was picked and prepared by your own hands. A true labor of love.

As we headed to bed, all of us unmarried women put our beeswax candle stubs under our pillow, per Macedonian custom. It's said that the man who appears in your dreams Easter night, is the man who will become your husband.  I had a very vivid dream of a strapping young man (who I do know), in whose presence I have indeed felt most alive, and who just so happened (in the dream) to fancy me. Alas, in real life he is to be married soon. So per Macedonian custom, I am not sure how to interpret this dream. Perhaps I should seek expert Macedonian Baba advice. ;)

Hanging out with Baba Stoika in Kratovo.

It's been a wonderful weekend here.  Many blessings from Kratovo to each and every one of you. Whatever your religion or upbringing, may you discover the divinity, the sacredness, the uniqueness that makes you You and let it SHINE.  Then celebrate that uniqueness in others whether it  makes them similar to or different from you. What a miracle that any of us is alive to begin with. 

Pozdrav,

Hana T.