Celebration of Slava, then and now
When it got dark and the guests dispersed, I sat down at the table and covered my tired eyes with my fists.
Overcome with fatigue, I took a short break.
I strained my eyes and arms and legs and back all day.
We had guests at our Slava (the day of the patron saint of our home, Saint George), which in our customs is celebrated with a lot of guests. And where there are a lot of guests and a big crowd, there is also later fatigue 🙂
When I looked up at the candle, which was still burning softly, my memories came back to a glorious day, exactly 30 years ago.
May 6, 1995.
That year, St. George's Day fell on a Saturday.
And it is known that every time the Slava falls on the weekend, we can expect a larger number of guests. That was the case that day as well.
My younger brother, mother, father and I have had our hands full since morning
I went with my brother to the church, where the ritual of cutting the Slava cake (handmade bread prepared by the homemaker of Slava) is performed, while my father and mother made the final preparations before welcoming the guests.
This photo is from this year's celebration ceremony in the church.
There is a Slava cake, boiled wheat, red wine and a candle. Everything that is needed to perform the ceremony in the church to celebrate the beginning of the day, which is also recorded in the UNESCO list of intangible cultural heritage - Slava
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Considering that the previous day, 5/5/1995, was my last day in high school, we had a farewell party under the open sky scheduled for Saturday around noon.
After returning from church, before the arrival of the first guests, I sneaked out of the apartment and went with my friends to that gathering.
We all gathered in the school yard and with drinks and music, we celebrated the end of a beautiful period of our lives.
My parents and brother didn't really like that I left them stranded with a full house of guests who had arrived in the meantime, but what could I do, I had to say goodbye to my friends properly 🙂
When the farewell party was over, I returned home tipsy.
I said Hello to the guests and a little later the sound of the front door bell reminded me of the future plan.
On that day, a derby was played, a football match between Crvena Zvezda and Partizan.
It was the 100th derby.
A match that could not be missed.
Mother and father asked if I was normal, but I greeted the guests, "Because you have to go to the derby" and left with my friend.
Now I don't even remember the result of the match, but I still remember the magnificent choreography in the stands, the song, cheering and the smell of gunpowder from lit torches and thrown firecrackers.
After the finished game with the company (a few of us) I returned home. There were no more guests, my family slowly cleaned the dishes, and we, the kids, sat down to dinner hungry.
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That day the house was full, the roar and noise made by the guests is still in my mind.
I remember that day fondly, because it was perhaps the most beautiful celebration Slava in my life, complemented by the last time I spent with my high school friends and friends from the stands of the stadium.
At the same time, there were many people with me that day, without whom we remained during the coming years, and whom I miss today.
This celebration was much quieter, with fewer guests, but still with my two friends from the stands.
With other friends (those from high school), we have scheduled a 30-year graduation for next Friday, and I believe that we will have a fantastic time at the gathering. Certainly not like then, on May 6, 1995, when we were 19 years old, but we will certainly try, us old boys.
Whether we will then remember some events and stories, we probably will, and whether I will remember them and maybe share them with you in a new #TBT post, remains to be seen.
Until then, I salute you!
Hello @duskobgd!
Wow!
What a magnificent experience you're telling us about!
Sharing this tradition with family and friends is undoubtedly necessary and comforting.
And enjoying a derby of this caliber—well, how could you miss it?
Congratulations!
After I wrote the post, I remembered that game and the atmosphere in the stands.
The team I was rooting for was the winner 🙂
Incredible remembrance of the old days
I'm glad you still celebrate as it was used to be
This is the holiday of our family's home, which is passed on to the next generations of male descendants. I inherited it from my grandfather, and since I have no children, it will continue to be marked by my brother's son.