Unending Hospitality

by Kyle Kipfer (United States of America)

Making a local connection Serbia

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Mountains rolled by at a sluggish pace as our 4-cylinder car struggled with the steep ascents but screamed down the far side. A curious fox snuck a peek between the trees to see what ravenous creature could possibly be making this ruckus, but it quickly darted back and out of sight without a second glance. That landscape of Kopaonik National Park was truly mesmerizing, but, at this time, our host family, who gave us this travel recommendation, won our hearts. We circled back to Niš with the scenery slowly flattening out. As our car approached our accommodation, Matija appeared with his smile that would welcome his worst enemy, if he even had one, to stay under his roof. Coming to Serbia, we had little expectation of what relations we would make, but the overflowing hospitality of Matija’s family and friends covered us like a warm blanket in the dead of winter. “I park the car.” He said without any room for excuse as he stood in front without budging. As I gladly gave in to the bigger man, I soon found a beer in my hand and was kindly told to sit down at their patio table. “Burek will be here soon. Have you had before? No? You will never leave Serbia after you have it.” His wife, Petra, came out of the door handling far too many cups and plates filled with Serbian delicacies. “Matija, you need to work on your English.” She scolded her husband as she set out coffee and a walnut liqueur her neighbor made. “You will come back to Serbia, yes?” Matija asked as he came to the table. “I pay for your tickets. You see Niš in the summer and stay with us again.” Before we could answer, the table filled with Matija’s family and neighbors as their dogs padded between guests waiting for the friendly pat or table scrap. As everyone’s cheeks began to take on a slightly reddish hue due to possibly one too many drinks, the hospitality did not end. “You will see my workshop?” Matija questioned and gave us the grand tour of his metal working with countless souvenirs graciously placed in our already overstuffed bags. “My son will take over one day.” He said as we made our way back to the rest of the group. Deep passion colored his eyes as he looked from his workshop to his son laughing at a joke made from his friend. We may have been thousands of miles from our own family and friends, but I still cannot recall a time where I was more welcomed and doted over than in the ever-hospitable Serbia. Maybe we will take Matija up on those return tickets.