I’ve been thinking about what to write next and it just seems natural to write some more about my home town and family before I will start to focus on more recent and fascinating things like what i ate for breakfast or what color my shoes are today 🙂 
( spinach/mango/banana smoothie and nude sandals in case you are wondering )

 Last time when I was home, two years ago I saw my town with completely new eyes and for the first time I  treasured and appreciated what i saw. I used not to like this small place. ( Wikipedia says:  the population of Barot is 9,670 and has an absolute Szekely Hungarian majority (9,271 (95.87%) Hungarians, 300 (3.1%) Romanians, 84 Roma, 15 others).  I remember wanting to be as far away from it’s badly paved roads, small houses, churches, jobless and complaining people as possible. First I chose to go to a boarding school to a bigger, more intellectual and exciting city at the tender age of 14, then – as you know, I moved across an ocean. Now I do have a long distance to travel to set foot on Barot’s still horribly paved streets.  The difference is that i don’t mind it anymore and I am sick of excitement to be there, underdeveloped as it is. Things that made life harder there (like endless hours of farm work, gardening, cleaning, washing and cooking)  and used to annoy me badly are interesting, charming and very down to earth today. After the modernness of America, endless highways, towering skyscrapers, crowds and the variety of people, cultures, cuisines – Barot feels simple and safe. The beautifying power of distance, you could say. It’s true. Today my town is a place where I long to be. I want to walk its streets, go to my Grandmother’s house (which is on the same street, only couple of houses up)  stop at the cemetery at my Grandfather’s grave, say hello to almost every single person who i come across while walking on the streets, brake a sweat in the garden while helping my mother, cook and bake home made “deliciousnesses”  every single day for breakfast, lunch and dinner ( because there is no other option, no different cuisines and restaurants in this hidden place)  and go to bed under the same rood where my mom and dad sleeps. Oh, what joy! How could I have wanted to be so so so far away from this place? Of course there is an answer to that too, but that will be a different post another day. Today I just feel like I cannot wait for the next 17 days to go by fast enough! 


Now, here are couple of pics:
House with traditional, handmade Szekely Gate.

House with stork nest and storks

Hard to guess what this is, i know 🙂 Its me and my tractor! :))) ( just kidding, its not mine)

My Granfather’s grave

Little old ladies selling vegetables at the farmer’s market

Mom’s garden





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