This picture was taken sometime in the late 1950s, on a December day, at pig slaughter in Csömör. When over fifteen years ago we came here, it was usual to hear on some cold early mornings the last cry of a pig on the other side of the stream. Just today I realized that for years I have not heard that any more. | | Tento snímok bol zhotovený niekedy v neskorej 1950, na decembrový deň, na zabíjačke v Čemeri. Pred viac než pätnástimi rokmi, keď sme sem prišli, bolo to bežné, že na skoré, studené zimné rano kričí sviňa na druhej strane potoka. Práve dnes som si uvedomil, že som to nepočul už niekoľko rokov. |
What a striking similarity between the two girls divided by decades! Rio Wang flows through time connecting fates of different people.
ResponderEliminarAnd they say that you cannot enter twice in the same river! ;)
ResponderEliminarThis post has been quoted on the Bushcraft.uk forum (“a resource for anyone interested in the skills and knowledge needed to get more from the great outdoors”). Thank you!
ResponderEliminartools and gestures we don't see anymore (and cries we don't listen no more).
ResponderEliminarSlaughter was a social and ritual focus in traditional cultures, it was absolutely not only about food.
Preserving old memories is preserving identity.