MISIA / MISSION by vydavatelstvo Don Bosco

MISIA MISSION ■

SLOVENSKÍ SALEZIÁNI VO SVETE S L O VA K S A L E S I A N S A R O U N D T H E ALAN HYŽA

■

PETER KUBÍNYI

WORLD

© Alan Hyža, Peter Kubínyi: MISIA – Slovenskí saleziáni vo svete / MISSIONS – Slovak Salesians around the world Text © Peter Kubínyi Foto / Photo © Alan Hyža Preklad / Translation © Miroslava Dulová 2009 Grafická úprava / Graphic design © Juraj Martiška © vydavateľstvo DON BOSCO 2010 / Publishing House DON BOSCO, Slovakia 2010 ISBN 978–80–8074–113–6

BYŤ

PRI ĽUĎOCH

A PRE ĽUDÍ

BE WITH PEOPLE

AND FOR PEOPLE

Exotika, dobrodružstvo, relax, pamiatky, cudzie jazyky… To všetko sú pohnútky, ktoré nás „ťahajú“ cestovať do viac či menej vzdialených končín Zeme, objavovať nepoznané, nachádzať únik z každodennej rutiny. Turistické bedekre nás navigujú priamo k očakávaným zážitkom, cestovné kancelárie sa predbiehajú v komfortnosti svojich služieb. Prísť, zažiť, odísť a spomínať, tak by sme mohli parafrázovať známy výrok Gaia Julia Caesara. Život a ľudia okolo navrhovaných trás je však akoby mimo nás. No práve povedľa odporúčaných ciest sa krížia cesty osudov obyčajných ľudí, ktoré sú nemenej pôsobivé ako turistické atrakcie. Rozdiel je len v tom, že kým turistické atrakcie načierajú hlbšie do našich úspor, ľudské osudy načierajú hlbšie do našich duší, do darov a talentov, ktorých má každý z nás dostatok. Charizma saleziánov spočíva v odkaze nášho zakladateľa svätého Jána Bosca – venovať sa mladým, najmä tým najchudobnejším, a to nielen hmotne, ale aj duchovne chudobným, s cieľom vychovať z nich dobrých kresťanov a statočných občanov. Na Slovensku sa môžete so saleziánmi stretnúť v sedemnástich mestách, v ktorých sa venujeme hlavne mládeži v rámci bohoslužieb a vysluhovania sviatostí, cez zmysluplné využívanie voľného času, mediálne projekty, až po poskytnutie vzdelávania a výchovy na našich školách a v domovoch mládeže.

The exotic, adventure, relaxation, monuments, foreign languages. These are motives that “attract” us, compel us to travel to more or less remote region of the Earth, to discover the unknown, to escape from our everyday routine. Travel guides navigate us directly to expected experience, and travel agents also compete in providing comfortable services. To come, experience, and remember, to paraphrase the well-known statement of Gaius Julius Caesar. Life for people close to designated routes appears distant from us. But exactly near to the recommended routes cross paths with ordinary people – no less impressive than tourist attractions. There is only one difference: tourist attractions cost more, human destinies touch our souls more deeply. It is gifts and talents that are being experienced, and every one of us has plenty of them. Charisma of Salesians is based on the legacy of our founder Saint John Bosco – to devote to young people, mainly the poorest not only materially, but also intellectually poor people, in order to educate them to become good Christians and brave citizens. In Slovakia, you can meet Salesians in 17 towns, in which we devote ourselves mainly to youth within religious services and serving sacraments, via the purposeful spending of leisure time, media projects, as well as the provision of education and upbringing in our schools and houses for youth.

Z takmer dvestopäťdesiat slovenských saleziánov je niekoľko aj mimo rodnej vlasti. Na všetkých piatich kontinentoch sa dali do služby tým, ktorí to skutočne potrebujú. V Ekvádore, Rusku (na Sibíri), Azerbajdžane, Albánsku, Austrálii, Angole, na Haiti, Filipínach (v Pakistane) a v ďalších krajinách, pôsobia Slováci – saleziánski misionári. Pomáhajú ľuďom postaviť sa na vlastné nohy, získať stratenú dôstojnosť, poskytujú im vzdelanie, aby mohli dosiahnuť lepšiu budúcnosť. Byť pri nich a pre nich, to je hlavná úloha misionára, ktorý svojím životom a službou druhým dokazuje prítomnosť Boha na Zemi. V tejto knihe vám ponúkame krátky výlet do vzdialených končín Zeme, ale hlavne výpravu za ľudskými osudmi slovenských saleziánov – misionárov a ľudí, pre ktorých žijú. Aj týmto spôsobom chceme vzbudiť záujem o misie, prejaviť hrdosť na našich rodákov a spolupatričnosť s nimi, ale tiež poďakovať za 150 rokov existencie saleziánskej kongregácie.

Out of some 250 Slovak Salesians several are out of the country. On all five continents they started to serve those who really need it. In Ecuador, Russia (Siberia), Azerbaijan, Albania, Australia, Angola, Haiti, Philippines, Pakistan and other countries Slovaks are working – Salesian missionaries. They help people to gain own footing, to regain their dignity or to educate them in order to improve their future lives. To stay with them and to be there for them, this is the main task of the missionary, who, with his life and service documents for others the presence of God on Earth. In this book we are offering you a short trip to remote regions of the Earth, but mainly an expedition to human destinies of Slovak Salesian missionaries and the people for whom they live. Also in this way we would like to raise interest in missions, to demonstrate that we are proud of our natives and express solidarity with them. We also would like to pay tribute to 150 years of the Salesian congregation.

S úctou don Karol Maník, provinciál

With respect, don Karol Manik, provincial

P R I A T E Ľ S T VÁ

FRIENDSHIPS LIKE SIBERIAN FIRS

A KO

SIBÍRSKE JEDLE „Mám nové auto,“ povedal rozžiarene Tono Odrobiňák. Naposledy sme sa videli v Quite, v Ekvádore, odvtedy prešiel rok a Tono sa na chvíľu dostal domov. Plný energie, doslova žiaril, rozprával, ako sa mu ho podarilo získať cez katolícku charitu. Pre neho je auto životne dôležitá vec, bez neho sa ďaleko nedostane. A predsa mi bolo ľúto tej starej toyoty, ktorou sme my prešli Ekvádor a ktorej stierače šli nonstop, dážď nedážď, a museli sme ich vyklápať ďalej od skla, aby aspoň neškrípali. Krútili sa vo vzduchu ako dva hady. A čo tá žena, ktorej sčernala noha, a predsa nechcela ísť k lekárovi? „Žije! Je to zázrak, ale zatiaľ sa drží. Často k nej chodievam...“ „Takto to teraz vyzerá v Aquamithe!“ rozpráva Augustín Vrecko a na jeho tvári sa zračí neskrývaná radosť. Ukazuje fotografie, na ktorých vidno políčko plné zeleniny a vedľa neho nové unimobunky pre dobrovoľníkov, čo mu majú prísť pomáhať. Stoja na betónových platniach, ktoré vybudoval Štefan Margeťák. Takže, nakoniec nebol na Haiti zbytočne. „Keď zozbierame prvú úrodu, časť z nej predáme a môžeme klčovať ďalšie políčka... Dielo sa musí podariť! Moji ľudia si zaslúžia, aby žili lepšie! Viem, že to bude trvať roky, ba aj desaťročia a ja sa toho nedožijem, ale ktosi predsa začať musí!“

“I have a new car,” stated Tono Odrobinak, whose face was radiating joy. Last time we met was in Quito, Ecuador. A year passed in the meantime before Tono arrived home for a short period of time. Full of energy, with an especially radiant face, he told us how he succeeded in arranging it via the Catholic charity. For him a car is a vital item, without a car he can’t go far. But, of course, I was sorry about that old Toyota in which we travelled across Ecuador. The wipers were on permanently, rain – no rain, and so we were obliged to lift them off the windscreen so as not to hear their lowpitched squeak. They twisted in the air like two snakes. And what about that woman with the blackened leg, who in no way wanted to see the doctor? “She is alive! It’s a miracle, but so far she is ok. I see her frequently...” “This is Aquamithe now!” says Augustin Vrecko, with unhidden joy on his face. He shows us pictures of a small field with lots of vegetables and close to it new barracks for volunteers who will come and help him. They are located on concrete slabs, constructed by Stefan Margetak. So, in the end, he was not totally useless in Haiti. “When we collect the first harvest, part of it we can sell and we can clear other small fields... This work must be successful! My people deserve to live a better life! I know it will last for years, even decades and I won’t be around to see it, but somebody must start!”

Striedavo sa pozerám na jeho tvár a na fotografie a v pamäti sa mi vynára obraz bezútešnej krajiny a škatúľ s unimobunkami ležiacimi na červenej zemi. Neveril som, že sa to Augustínovi podarí. Podarilo sa. „Ozývam sa už z Pakistanu. Prišiel som sem pred týždňom, ale niečo ma skolilo, nejaká infekcia, ale dúfam, že sa z toho čoskoro dostanem. Situácia je tu dosť zlá. Každý deň nejaké atentáty. Je práve obed a od rána už boli dva, zahynuli dvaja policajti i pár ďalších ľudí. Museli sme zatvoriť školu a poslať učňov domov. Všetky školy sú zatvorené. Domáci vravia, že tak zle tu ešte nebolo,“ píše Laco Miko z Pakistanu. „Ale zvykám si, hoci toto má od Filipín veľmi ďaleko.“ Z jeho slov cítim, že mu je smutno za Filipínami, že do Pakistanu odchádzal nerád. A predsa šiel! „Ahoj Peter, tu otec Jozef,“ ozýva sa hlas v telefóne tak, ako kedysi v Ulanbátare. Nemusel sa predstavovať, vedel som, že je to on, sotva povedal „ahoj“. Jozef Tóth je v Bratislave, len na pár dní, potom odchádza do Írska na kurz angličtiny a z Dublinu letí do Moskvy a potom z Moskvy na Sibír. Ale teraz je v Bratislave a my sa môžeme opäť stretnúť! Rozpráva o kresťanskom dome v Aldane, o zime, ktorá už udrela naplno, hoci u nás sa ešte ani poriadne nezačala jeseň, o Varvare Pavlovne, ktorá na nás myslí a posiela veľa pozdravov. A ja mu, na oplátku, rozprávam príbeh sibírskej jedle, ktorá sa ku mne dostala pred dvoma rokmi. Varvara Pavlovna ju vytrhla zo sibírskej zeme, vložila do igelitového vrecka a poslala mi ju po donovi Pravdovi do Bratislavy. To chúďa si užilo svoje. Najskôr na ňu na tri dni zabudol Jozef, kým ju konečne odovzdal Danielovi Pravdovi. Ten ju pribalil do kufra a odletel s ňou na ďalšie stretnutia do Moskvy. Cestou v lietadle ju „trochu zlisovali“, v Moskve „trochu vyschla“ a potom ju opäť „trochu zlisovali“ cestou v lietadle do Bratislavy.

I watch his face and pictures alternatively and in my memory I see a picture of a disconsolate country and boxes with site barracks located on red earth. I wouldn’t have believed that Augustin could be successful. But he was. “I am writing from Pakistan. I arrived here a week ago, but I’ve been struck down by something, an infection, but I hope that I will recover soon. The situation here is quite bad. Every day an another assassination attempt. Now it is lunch time and from the morning we had two, two policemen as well as several other people die. We were obliged to close the school and send apprentices home. All schools are closed. The local people say that times have never ever been so bad,” writes Laco Miko from Pakistan. “But I am getting used to it, though this situation is far from the Philippines.” From his words I felt that he is sad so far away from the Philippines, that he did not want to go to Pakistan. But he left! “Hi Peter, father Jozef speaking,” says the voice on the telephone, in the same way as once in Ulan Bator. No need for introductions. I knew it’s him as soon as he said “Hi”. Jozef Toth is in Bratislava only for a few days, later he leaves for Ireland for an English course and he will fly from Dublin to Moscow and later from Moscow to Siberia. But now he is in Bratislava and we can again meet! He talks about the Christian House in Aldan, about winter, which has already started with full force, though in our country even the autumn had not start properly. He talks about Varvara Pavlovna, who thinks of us and sends many greetings. And when it is my turn, I will tell the story of a Siberian fir, which I have received two years ago. Varvara Pavlovna tore it up by the roots from Siberian soil, inserted into a plastic bag and sent it to me with don Pravda to Bratislava. That poor thing has had hard times. First of all Jozef forgot about it for three days, until he finally handed it over to Daniel Pravda. He put it into his suitcase and flew to Moscow for the next meeting. During the flight the fir “was a little bit pressed”, in Moscow “it dried a little bit” and later again got “a little bit pressed” on the flight to Bratislava.

Nedával som jej veľa nádeje, posadil som ju do kvetináča a vyložil na balkón. Prežila! Na jeseň som ju odviezol na Horehronie a zakopal do zeme aj s kvetináčom, aby tu prezimovala v podmienkach, ktoré jej aspoň trochu budú pripomínať rodnú Sibír. Na ďalšiu jar sa opäť presunula do Bratislavy a na jeseň putovala späť na Horehronie. Sibírska jedľa od Varvary Pavlovny. Pätnásťcentimetrový stromček, ktorý toho prežil veľmi veľa, a predsa je svieži. Ako priateľstvá, ktoré sa zrodili na našich cestách za saleziánmi. Človek, ktorý sa rozhodol rozdať sám seba, má čo dať aj človeku, ktorý od neho nič nečaká. Od takéhoto človeka sa dá naučiť nesebeckosti, schopnosť prijímať druhých ľudí takých, akí sú a nič im nevyčítať. Dá sa s nimi rozprávať otvorene o hocičom, poznajú život z tej druhej strany, odkiaľ ho my neraz nevidíme alebo vidieť nechceme. Sú vytrvalí, veria tomu, čo robia, nezmáha ich sebaľútosť. A dokážu byť človeku oporou aj vtedy, keď už všetci ostatní stratia nervy. Ich život je misia. A misia je poslanie. Poslanie byť tu pre tých druhých.

With little hope I planted it into a flower pot on the balcony. The fir survived! In autumn I transported the pot to the Upper Hron region and planted the entire pot in soil, to hibernate in conditions only a little bit similar to conditions at home in Siberia. In the spring I transported the pot back to Bratislava and in autumn again back to Upper Hron region. This Siberian fir 15-centimetres high has lived through a lot since being sent by Varvara Pavlovna. And despite that it is vivid – like the friendships born during our journeys to the Salesians. Someone who has decided to share himself also has something to offer to someone who is expecting nothing from him. From such a person you can learn unselfishness, the ability to accept other people such as they are – with nothing to reprimand. You can discuss any subject with them. They know life from the other side, from where we cannot see it or we don’t want to see it. They persevere, they believe in what they do, they are not managed by self-pity. And they can support a person even when all others have already given up. Their life is a mission. And mission is commitment – a commitment to be here for others.

Peter Kubínyi Peter Kubinyi

Občas, keď niečo hľadám v zásuvke plnej starých osobných vecí, dostane sa mi do rúk malý kríž. Drevený, s kovovým odliatkom Krista, práca, aká sa dnes už nenájde. Mám ho roky. Voľakedy dávno ho mojim starým rodičom daroval rodinný priateľ. Muž, čo dlho žil v cudzine a vedel po anglicky, misionár. Už sa nepamätám na jeho meno, vlastne som ho ani nikdy presne nepoznal, tak isto ako krajinu, z ktorej prišiel. Dnes to už ani nie je dôležité. Bol som chlapec a ten tajomný muž pochádzal z iného sveta a robil neznámu prácu. Niečo, o čom sa často hovorí, ale nikto presne nevie, čo v sebe skrýva. Potom, oveľa neskôr, som počul chýry o akomsi donovi Šutkovi. Ušiel pred komunizmom, skončil v Ekvádore, živoril medzi indiánmi v džungli, roky nevidel rodinu, najbližších. Život plný strádania. Postupne pribúdali ďalšie príbehy, osudy, aké dokáže zaranžovať len život. Viac alebo menej dramatické, avšak všetky zaujímavé a celkom určite hodné zaznamenania. Zatúžil som týchto ľudí spoznať osobne. Pochopil som, že sú pokračovateľmi niečoho, čo sa začalo pred stáročiami. Šírenia skutočnej viery v dobro, úcty k človeku, rozumného využívania pokroku. Chcel som spoznať ich prácu, myslenie, životné postoje. Ako fotograf som túžil zachytiť ľudskú stránku týchto osobností, priblížiť ich každodenný život. V tej chvíli vzniklo to, čo je pre prácu dokumentaristu najdôležitejšie – záujem.

From time to time when I am looking for something in my drawer filled with old private items, I will find a small cross – a wooden cross with a metal casting of Christ. A work you cannot find today. I’ve had it for years. A long time ago, it was a gift to my grandparents from a family friend. He was a man who lived for many years abroad and spoke English, a missionary. I do not remember his name – actually I never knew his exact name, or the country he came from. Today it no longer matters. I was a boy and that mysterious man came from a different world and performed an unknown work. Something which was frequently discussed, but nobody knew exactly what was behind it. Later, much later I heard rumours about a certain don Sutka. He escaped from communism and landed in Ecuador, living from hand to mouth among Indians in the jungle, not seeing his family or relatives for years. A life filled with suffering. Gradually adding up the stories, the destinies, it’s clear that only life can arrange them thus. Some are more or less dramatic; but all of them interesting and for sure noteworthy. I had a dream to meet these people in person. I understood that they represent a continuation of something that started centuries ago – dissemination of real belief in good, respect for human beings, reasonable use of progress. I wanted to know their work, thinking, life attitudes. As a photographer I had a dream to capture the human side of these personalities and to present their everyday life. At this moment the interest was created, and it is a critical juncture for a documentary photographer.

Moju prácu spočiatku sťažovalo to, že som bol úplným outsiderom. Nepoznal som problematiku katolicizmu a o zákonitostiach života rehoľníkov som mal hmlistú predstavu. A tak cez záujem a zvedavosť prerastali obavy. Dovolia mne, človeku zvonku, navyše votrelcovi s fotoaparátom, aby som sa k nim priblížil? Bude vôbec možné zachytiť ich ľudský rozmer bez zaužívaného klišé tak, ako som si želal? Všetky predsudky, bariéry a strach postupne zmizli. Boli úplne zbytočné. Spoznal som priamočiarych, otvorených ľudí s veľkým srdcom, dobrých, ale vôbec nie naivných. Ich život, práca a myslenie sú čisté, úprimné a jednoduché – ako voda a chlieb. A viera im dáva rozmer a veľkorysosť arcivojvodov. Pri pohľade späť cítim radosť a uspokojenie. Dlhé obdobie vzájomného spoznávania nakoniec spečatila úcta. Tak ako v priateľstve.

At the beginning my work was even harder because I started as a total outsider. I was not involved in problems of Catholicism and had only limited ideas about the quotidian of life for monks. My interest and curiosity was overgrown by fears. Would they allow me, a person from the outside, moreover an alien with a camera, to get close to them? Would it even be possible to capture their human dimension without any habitual cliché in the way I wanted? All prejudices, barriers and fears gradually disappeared. They were completely unnecessary. I met direct, open people with a big heart, good people but not at all naive. Their life, work and thinking are clear, sincere and simple – like water and bread. And belief provides them with added dimension and the generosity of archdukes. Looking back I feel joy and satisfaction. The long period of time of mutual acquaintance was finally sealed with respect, and likewise, friendship.

Alan Hyža Alan Hyza

TONO

Z VA N Ý

ŽULA

TONO ALSO KNOWN AS GRANITE

Dvakrát dusená sliepka. Myslím na ňu, kým sa brodím červenkastým bahnom. Trojitá protišmyková úprava podrážok, ktorú vymysleli európske mozgy, definitívne zlyhala. Tropický lejak, džungľa, vedľa prudko stúpajúca hladina rieky Zamora, prítoku Amazonky. Ešte vždy som na tom lepšie ako tá sliepka, utešujem sa. Sestra Rosy Shakaimovej akoby si na nej vyliala zlosť za to, že ju opustil manžel a odsťahoval sa k susede. Zúrivo jej stláčala krk pár minút, povolila, a keď sa to nešťastné stvorenie nadýchlo, znova zatlačila. Potom prišiel Tono, vzal mačetu a odsekol jej hlavu, čo v rodine Shakaimovcov vyvolalo nadšenie. Nikdy im nezišlo na um, že by sa sliepka dala zahlušiť aj takto, a hneď ju dali dusiť druhýkrát, tentoraz do hrnca. Nakoniec, Tono je tu nato. Aby predvádzal, ukazoval, poučoval, vzdelával a teraz podával ruku aj mne, nech navždy nezmiznem v najbližšom víre bahna. Chlapec z Oravy, bývalý veterinár, neskôr vysvätený kňaz, dnes misionár medzi domorodými Šuarmi na juhu Ekvádoru. Tono Odrobiňák. Vravel, že sa treba modliť, že Pán vyslyší naše prosby. Asi tak urobil aj za nás, lebo čoskoro v rieke čosi zavrčalo. Čln z plechu. Musel pristáť pri brehu, lebo sa začal potápať, naberal vodu zo všetkých strán, ale motor mu slúžil. Čln! Odvezú nás! Vďaka ti, Bože! Prvý deň v Amazónii máme za sebou.

Twice-treated chicken. I am thinking of it while ploughing my way out of the reddish mud. Triple antiskid treatment of soles, designed by European brains, finally failed. Tropical heavy shower, jungle, and close to it the fast rising water level of the Zamora River, a tributary of the Amazon. I am still better off than that chicken, comforting myself. Sister of Rosa Shakaim acting as if she was venting her wrath on that chicken because her husband abandoned her and moved in with his neighbour. She, in a rage, squeezed the chicken’s neck for a few minutes, loosened, and when that unhappy creature took breath, she squeezed again. Later Tono arrived, took his machete and cut off chicken’s head, and that act produced a burst of enthusiasm from the entire Shakaim family. They would never ever think of a chicken killed that way and immediately they started with its second treatment, stewing in a pot. Finally, this is Tono’s job. In order to demonstrate, show, educate, instruct and now shake my hand, not to disappear forever in the next whirlpool of mud. A boy from Orava, a former veterinary surgeon, later ordained priest, today missionary among native Shuars in southern Ecuador – Tono Odrobinak. He said, that it’s necessary to pray, that the Lord will listen to our prayers. Probably he had done that also for us, shortly after we heard a sound from the river – a tin boat. It needed to land on the bank, because it was starting to sink, filled with water on all sides, but the engine still working. A boat! They will take us away! Thank God! The first day in Amazonia we have spent.

Campanak Entsa, tak sa volala prvá šuarská osada. Má aj svojho šéfa, Jorgeho, ale tomu nebolo veľmi do reči. Zapálené opuchnuté líce, hlava strčená vo vetrovke. Antibiotiká by to vyriešili za dva dni, ale kde by sa tu vzali? Prinesie ich Tono, práve to sľúbil. Ten sa však už ženie k chlapčekovi, čo si pri jedinej rúre s vodou umýva zuby, ibaže nevie, ako na to. Tono si ich teda umýva spolu s ním, aby poslúžil ako názorná ukážka.

Campanak Entsa, that’s the name of the first Shuar settlement. They have their own boss, Jorge, but he was not prepared to talk. Inflamed swollen cheek, head covered by an anorak. Antibiotics can treat that within two days, but how to get them here? Tono will bring them, as he promised. Now he is rushing to a small boy, who at the only pipe with water is brushing his teeth, but he does not know how to do it. So Tono does it together with him in order to demonstrate.

Medzičasom sa roznieslo, že sme v osade a všetky deti si vzali do rúk kefky, dokonca aj tie, čo boli práve v škole. Škola. My si školu predstavujeme inak. Táto je zhlobená z dosiek, malý glóbus, tabuľa, fixky, ktoré nepíšu, jeden učiteľ na deti v rôznom veku, Gregorio Chup. Má tridsaťosem rokov a ešte pamätá časy, keď sem chodieval Tonov predchodca, misionár Ján Šutka. Vďaka nemu šiel Gregorio na lýceum pri saleziánskej misii v Bomboize, vyštudoval, učí a sníva o Madride, kde by sa chcel živiť vyučovaním španielčiny. Nemáte to srdce povedať mu, že je to nesplniteľný sen a čoskoro sa zasa Tonovi bojíte povedať, že ste nikdy nevideli chudobnejší kostol. Stojí opodiaľ školy, aj on je postavený z drevených lát, svätostánok z umelej hmoty, nad ním hviezdičky zo staniolu… Evanjelium v džungli. „Nemám rád okázalosť európskej cirkvi, Ježiš predsa hlásal chudobu,“ povie a dá sa prekladať slová, čo nad provizórnym oltárom zostali od Vianoc. „Veľkodušnosť, dobrota, nádej, život, láska, radosť, to sú hodnoty, ktoré si musíme vážiť! A Ježiš chcel, aby sme jeho slová hlásali ďalej, aby sa evanjelium šírilo aj do tých najzapadnutejších kútov sveta.“ Campanak entsa spĺňa túto predstavu dokonale. Darmo má Felix, bývalý kaplán, na roztrhanom tričku nápis: „Gente nueva, buena gente! Vota listas izquierda democratica!“ Noví ľudia, dobrí ľudia, pripravení voliť demokraciu. Tonovo tričko nesie lepšie posolstvo, je na ňom zobrazený Ježiš na kríži… Eva Narcisa má dvadsaťtri, Alan Alberto dvadsaťdva rokov. Pred dvoma mesiacmi sa im narodil Henry Julian, Eva Narcisa ho porodila sama doma. Teraz ho dojčí, sediac v blate a Alan Alberto švihá okolo dieťaťa mačetou, aby ho dajako zabavil. Opodiaľ, v domčeku, žijú Shakaimovci. Predávajú ovocie, juku. Keď dcéra, ktorá študuje v misionárskej škole, potrebuje peniaze, pracujú viac, keď nepotrebuje, pracujú menej. Toľko, koľko naozaj treba, aby nepomreli od hladu. Snívajú o ceste do Quita, do hlavného mesta svojej krajiny.

Meanwhile the news disseminated that we are in the settlement and all the children took tooth brushes, even the children at school. School. We think of school differently. This one is made of wooden slats, a small globe, blackboard, felt pens, with no ink, one teacher for children of various ages – Gregorio Chup. He is 38 years old and still remembers the times of Tono’s predecessor – missionary Jan Sutka. Thanks to him Gregorio continued his education at the lyceum at the Salesian mission in Bomboiza. He graduated, learns and dreams of Madrid, where he would like to make his living teaching Spanish. We don’t have the heart to tell him that his dream will never come true and in a short time you will again be afraid to tell Tono that you have never seen a more poor church. Located not far from school, also that building made of wooden slats, plastic tabernacle, above it small tinfoil stars… Evangel in jungle. “I do not like pompous European churches, Jesus indeed preached poverty,” he said, and started to translate the words left above the temporary altar from Christmas. “Magnanimity, goodness, hope, life, love, joy – these are the values we must respect! And Jesus wanted that we preach his words in order to bring the evangel to the most remote regions of the world.” Campanak Entsa complies with that perfectly. Felix, former chaplain, in vain, has on his torn T-shirt the text: “Gente nueva, buena gente! Vota listas izquierda democratica!” New people, good people, who are prepared to vote for democracy. Tono’s T-shirt presents a better message – a Jesus on the cross… Eva Narcisa is 23 and Alan Alberto 22 years old. Two months ago their son Henry Julian was born. Eva Narcisa gave birth to him alone, at home. Now she is nursing him sitting in mud and Alan Alberto is swishing his machete around the child, to entertain the child in some way. Not far in a small house lives the Shakaim family. They sell fruit, yucca. When their daughter studying at the missionary school needs money, they work more, when she does not need, they work less. As much as is really necessary in order not to die of starvation. They dream of a journey to Quito – thecapital of their country.

Šli by pracovať aj do Spojených štátov, lenže nemajú peniaze ani na cestu a ich nedostatok nijako nespájajú s množstvom svojej vynaloženej práce. Keď sa im naposledy podarilo zarobiť niečo navyše, kúpili si televízor a hudobnú aparatúru, čo tu teraz vyrevúva ako zbor ožranov. Adriano chodieva na poľovačky, videl aj jaguára, ale nanešťastie zistil, že si doma zabudol náboje. Ako by mu teda mohlo prísť na um, že sliepke možno mačetou odťať hlavu namiesto nekonečného hrdúsenia? Surovú tú hlavu však vyhladovaným psom hodiť neslobodno! Žiadna precitlivenosť, nesmú zistiť, že živú sliepku možno zožrať. „Disciplina, puntualidad, orden!“ hlása nápis nad ich jediným dreveným stolom z dosák a človek má zrazu pocit, že na tom kríži je vlastne Tono.

They would travel for work even to the United States of America, but they even do not have the money for travelling and they do not relate the lack of money with the amount of work they do. The last time they have succeeded to make extra money they purchased a TV and hi-fi, now both roaring like a group of drunkards. Adriano goes hunting. He had seen a jaguar, but unfortunately he found out that he forgot his ammunition at home. How should he think of cutting the head of that chicken using a machete instead of the never-ending choking? But you would never be allowed to throw the raw head to hungry dogs! No hypersensitiveness, they must not find out that they can eat a chicken alive. “Disciplina, puntualidad, orden!” reads the text above their only one wooden table made of slats and suddenly you can have the feeling that actually Tono is on that cross.

Banánová polievka, banánové čipsy, fazuľa s vajcom, čerstvý kravský syr, čerstvé banány. Večera v misii v Bomboize. Koľko ton banánov tu museli zjesť od roku 1951, keď Taliani založili túto misijnú stanicu? Ghineo, banán, aký poznáme my, a platano, banán, ktorý nie je ovocie, ale druh zeleniny. Don Natale sa v tom vyzná, tento Talian tu prežil celé desaťročia. Padre Anton si zvyká druhý rok. Majú tu farmu, internáty, školy. Strednú na spôsob nášho osemročného gymnázia, vyšší pedagogický inštitút pre šuarských učiteľov, diaľkovú univerzitu. Presne v duchu dona Bosca, venujme sa mládeži a vzdelaniu, saleziáni vychovávajú budúcich učiteľov. V internátoch žije takmer poldruha stovky zväčša šuarských detí, oni sú na tom najhoršie, im teda pomáhajú najviac. Kolóni a Šuari sa totiž veľmi radi nemajú. Kolóni, alebo „colones“, ak chcete, sú tí, v génoch ktorých sa nájdu pozostatky nejakého Španiela. Keď kolonizovali túto zem, do džungle, k Šuarom, sa nedostali. A tak sa Šuari nemôžu pýšiť ani kvapkou španielskej krvi, čo ich v očiach Kolónov znevýhodňuje… Trinásť miliónov Kolónov na štyridsaťtisíc Šuarov.

Banana soup, banana chips, beans with egg, fresh caw cheese and bananas – dinner at the mission in Bomboiza. How many tons of bananas they have consumed since 1951, when Italians established this missionary station? Ghineo, banana, as we know it, and platano – a banana that is not a banana, but a certain type of vegetable. Don Natale is an expert, this Italian spent several decades here. Padre Anton is getting used to it for the second year. They have here a farm, dormitories and schools. A secondary school like our eight-year gymnasium, higher institute of pedagogy for Shuar teachers and an external university. Exactly in the spirit of don Bosco, dealing with youth and education, Salesians educate future teachers. In dormitories, they live close to a hundred and fifty mainly Shuar children. Their situation is the worst, so they need the most help. Colones and Shuars they don’t like each other much. Colones have in the genes something from the Spaniards. When the Spaniards colonized this area, they did not reach the jungle, nor the Shuars. So Shuars cannot boast of even one drop of Spanish blood and for Colones this represents a disadvantage … Thirteen million Colones compared to forty thousand Shuars.

Kolóni sa vždy cítili byť na koni, oberali Šuarov o pôdu a nebyť otca Šutku, možno by skončili až za peruánskou hranicou. Bol to práve on, Slovák, kto medzi nich chodieval a radil im, ako vytvárať z domčekov, rozsypaných po džungli, centrá podobné dedinám, ako sa vzdelávať. Tono pokračuje v jeho šľapajach. Keď je na misii, prebudí sa v ňom aj veterinár, dozrie na dobytok, na ošípané, sliepky aj ryby, keď z nej odíde, stáva sa misionárom. Centrum Tiink. Pätnásťročnou toyotou z misie cez kopce, ktoré preveria božskú trpezlivosť. Stierače sa pri každom drgnutí dajú do pohybu, drhnú suché sklo, ale Tono vie ako na ne. Vystrčí sa za jazdy z dverí, odhodí ich od skla dopredu, a tie sa potom vrtia vo vzduchu ako tykadlá chrobáka. Vybavené. Ťažšie sa dá vyriešiť problém starej ženy, ktorú pred troma mesiacmi poštípal hmyz, má nohu čiernu, obalenú v handrách, omýva si ju v liečivých bylinkách. „Do nemocnice? Nie!“ Ale prečo nie? „Lebo mi ju odrežú!“ Ak s ňou nepôjdete do nemocnice, potom vám ju nakoniec určite odrežú. „A preto do nemocnice nepôjdem!“ Vybavené. A akoby nešťastia nebolo dosť, „sancudos“ neviditeľné mušky, štípu ako divé a akási žena, čo doteraz ležala v plátennej hojdačke, vstáva, aby sa posťažovala na „sorros“, ktoré opisuje ako obrovské divé potkany, vybiehajúce z džungle, čo jej kántria sliepky a morské prasiatka, obľúbené jedlo Ekvádorčanov. Čo príbeh, to horor. Miestny diakon Antonio Shakai spomína, ako mu pred pár rokmi umrela žena. „Jednu noc bola zima. Zakašľala a do dvadsaťštyri hodín bolo po nej,“ vraví. Najmladší z jeho šiestich synov, Alisandro, mal vtedy dvanásť rokov. Antonio znášal smrť ženy zle, žili spolu dvadsaťdeväť rokov, aj uvažoval, že si vezme nejakú inú, ale nakoniec sa naučil variť sladké zemiaky a banány sám a stal sa diakonom. „Hľadal som iné hodnoty, pre ktoré sa oplatí žiť,“ vraví. Nedostáva za to ani halier, nemôže slúžiť omšu, ani spovedať, jednoducho chcel byť užitočný. A jeden z jeho synov sa stal saleziánskym kňazom. Kým rozpráva, popod nohy sa nám tmolí drobné kuriatko.

Colones always felt like the winner and took land from Shuars and without father Sutka, probably they would move even beyond the Peruvian border. That was him, a Slovak, who visited them and advised them how to create, from small houses scattered in the jungle, centres similar to villages and how to educate themselves. Tono continues in the same direction. Being at the mission, he acts also as veterinary surgeon, supervises the cattle, pigs, chicken and fish, and when he leaves he will become a missionary. Centre Tiink. In a 15-year-old Toyota from the mission over the hills that would test the divine patience. Wipers at every bump start flopping, scratch the dry windscreen, but Tono knows his way. While driving he twists himself out of the door, moves the wipers away from windscreen and the wipers twist in air like antennas of a bug. Done. It is more difficult to solve the problem of an old woman. Three months ago she got a bug bite, her leg is black, hidden in rag, washing it in curative herbs. “To hospital? No!” But why not? “They would cut it off!” But if you do not go to a hospital, then eventually it will have to be cut off. “And therefore I would not go to hospital!” Done. And as if not enough misfortune, ‘sancudos’ (invisible flies), bite like wild and a woman, until now in a linen swing, gets up, in order to complain about ‘sorros’. She described them as giant wild rats running from the jungle and slaughtering chickens and guinea pigs, a favourite meal for Ecuadorians. Every story a horror. The local deacon Antonio Shakai mentions how a few years ago his wife died. “One night it was cold. She coughed and died within twenty four hours,” he said. The youngest of his six sons, Alisandro, was 12 years old. Antonio couldn’t get over the death of his wife – they have been together for 29 years. He thought of marrying another woman, but eventually he learned how to cook sweet potatoes and bananas and became a deacon. “I was looking for other values worth living for,” he said. He receives no payment for it, he is not allowed to celebrate a Mass nor confess, he simply wanted to be useful. And one of his sons became a Salesian priest. While he talks, below our legs a small chick walks.

Nebyť Pavla Minarčica, ani my by sme sa o nich nedozvedeli. Dokáže vidieť neviditeľné. Je to jeho poslanie. „Veril som, že sa nám v meste bude dariť lepšie, tak sme odišli z hôr a prišli skúsiť šťastie do Tirany,“ rozpráva hlava rodiny Gjoniovcov. Učiteľ matematiky a fyziky. Usadil nás na malé stoličky pred stan, priniesol fľašku vínovice, čo si bol sám vypálil. S Pavlom sa pozná už dlho, a tak ochotne vysvetľuje, že hoci sa načierno páliť nesmie, robia to všetci. Keby mu na to aj prišli, stačí úplatok a na všetko sa zabudne. Úplatok dokáže zázraky! Radšej úplatok ako socializmus Envera Hodžu. Spomína na časy, keď nesmel vlastniť ani sliepku ani sviňu, veď keby on sliepku mal a sused nie, neboli by si rovní… Spomína na kontrolórov, čo chodili z domu do domu a presviedčali sa, či tento zákon niekto neporušuje. A zrazu sa všetko zmenilo, mohol vlastniť nielen sliepku, ale aj fabriku. Mnohí sa vtedy stratili, nevyznali sa v tlačenici. Mnohí prišli z hôr do mesta, aby tu našli šťastie tak ako on. Málokto ho našiel… A predsa očervenie od hnevu, keď sa ho spýtam, či bol Hodža blázon. „Aj socializmus mal svoje výhody,“ povie. „Teraz sa cítim akoby ma hodili do mora a povedali mi – plávaj! Ale kam a ako?“ V škole dlho pracovať nedokázal. „Deti sú príliš drzé, príliš všetečné, a keď som dostal infarkt, do práce som sa už nevrátil,“ povie. Má tri deti, jeden syn je holič, dcéra študuje, druhý sa načierno pokúšal nájsť prácu v Grécku, ale nedarí sa mu. Manželka robí upratovačku. „Znášam to s pokojom Angličana,“ odpovie na otázku, ako sa dá takto žiť. „Albánsko je kvapka v mori, prejde ešte veľa času, kým z neho bude normálna krajina,“ dodáva. „Ale podarí sa to. Veď aj zo mňa, z profesora matematiky, sa stal poľnohospodár. Kúpil som si tento pozemok, postavil kúpeľňu vedľa stanu a teraz čakám na nový dom, pomoc od katolíckeho Charitasu. Lebo štát sa o nás chudobných nestará. Som v poradovníku,“ dodá. Poradovník na šťastie je však veľmi dlhý. A šťastie tu má veľa podôb.

Without Pavol Minarcic, we wouldn’t even know about them. He can see what is invisible. It is his mission. “I believed that it would be better in a town, so we left the mountains and came to try our luck in Tirana,” says the head of Gjoni family. Teacher of mathematics and physics. He offered us seats on small chairs in front of the tent and brought out a bottle of brandy, which he made himself. He has known Pavol for a long time, and so he explains with goodwill that legally you must not distil, but everybody does. If they ever find out, a bribe would suffice and everything would be forgotten. A bribe can do wonders! Better bribes than the socialism of Enver Hodja. He recalls the times when he was not allowed to own even one chicken nor a pig in case he would have one and his neighbour not, they would be not equal… He recalls the controllers, who went from to house and checked if somebody was in breach of that Act. Then, all at once, everything changed and he could own not only a chicken, but also a factory. Many people got lost at that time, as they were not jacks of all trades. Many came from the mountains into town in order to try their luck, just like him. But only a few of them were lucky… But he would turn red from anger when I have asked if Hodja was a fool. “Also socialism had its advantages,” he says. “Now I feel as if they would throw me into sea and tell me – swim! But where and how?” He was unable to work at school for a long time. “Children are too impertinent, too inquisitive, and after the heart attack, I did not return to work,” he says. He has three children, one son hairdresser, daughter studying, the other son tried to find illegal work in Greece, but he was not successful. The wife works as a cleaning lady. “I take it easy like an Englishman,” he replies when asked how he could live like that. “Albania is like a drop in the sea, a lot of time will pass before it will become a normal country,” he adds. “But we will succeed. I, a professor of mathematics, transformed indeed into a farmer. I purchased this plot, built the bathroom adjacent to the tent and now I am waiting for a new house, help from the Catholic Charitas. Because the state does not care for us, poor people, I am on the waiting list,” he adds. But the waiting list for luck is very long. And luck has here many forms.

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Pre profesora Sandriho je to možno dôchodok. Zatvorili ho na sedem rokov, len preto, že jeho otec bol dôstojník a nechcel vstúpiť do komunistickej strany. Sedem rokov odrobil v bani v horách. Jeden jeho strýko dostal sedemnásť rokov, ďalší tridsaťjeden rokov. Pamätá sa aj na kráľa Zogu. „Bol poriadok, ctil si ľudský život, a súkromné vlastníctvo bolo chránené.“ vraví. Lenže kráľ cez vojnu z Albánska ušiel pred Mussolinim aj so svojou manželkou, ktorá pochádzala od Nitry. Geraldína Apponyiová z Oponíc. Pred Mussolinim utekala z Albánska na mercedese, ktorý dostala od Hitlera. Aké zvláštne dokážu byť dejiny. Kráľovský pár potom minul veľkú časť zlatého pokladu krajiny na prenajatie celého poschodia v londýnskom hoteli Ritz. Keď sa po roku 1989, po tom, čo sa skončila Hodžova éra, vrátil kráľov potomok do Albánska, už ho nechceli. Na dôchodku je najlepšie aj ďalšiemu pánovi Gjonimu. S už spomínaným pánom Gjonim nemá nič spoločné, sú len menovci. Zaspomína si, že za kráľa sa dali albánske peniaze zmeniť ešte aj v Taliansku. Vyvážali tabak, cigarety, obchodovali s Kosovom, aj s Čiernou Horou. Prišla vojna, Mussolini, ten aspoň vybudoval cesty a postavil pár pekných budov v Tirane. Po ňom krajinu obsadili Nemci. Vojna sa skončila, mali sa stať siedmou federatívnou republikou Juhoslávie. To nechceli, tak sa skamarátili s Rusmi. V šesťdesiatom roku však chcel Chruščov začať budovať ponorkovú základňu v meste Vlora, to sa im nepáčilo, tak sa spriahli s Čínou. Lenže to im zas prinieslo kultúrnu revolúciu na Mao Ce Tungov spôsob, úradníkov povyháňali na dediny, akékoľvek náboženstvo oficiálne zakázali. Albánsko sa stalo jedinou ateistickou krajinou na svete. A ďalšia katastrofa prišla po tom, čo Rusi obsadili Československo v roku 1968. Enver Hodža vystúpil z Varšavskej zmluvy a zatúžil po samostatnosti v obranyschopnosti krajiny!

It perhaps represents for Professor Sandri a pension. He was in jail for seven years, only because his father was an officer and refused to become a member of the Communist party. For seven years he worked in mines in the mountains. One of his uncles was in jail for 17 years, another one for 31 years. He remembers also King Zog. “Order ruled, he respected human life, and private ownership was protected,” he says. But the king during the war escaped from Albania ahead of Mussolini. Zog’s wife, who also escaped at that time, came from around Nitra. Geraldina Apponyi from Oponice. She escaped from Albania on a Mercedes which she had received from Hitler. How peculiar history can be. The royal couple then spent a large part of the golden treasure they had hoarded in order to lease an entire floor in the London Ritz hotel. When after 1989 and the end of Hodja’s era, a descendant of the royal family returned to Albania, but they did not want him. It’s also perhaps also Mr. Gjoni’s best time during his pension. With the aforementioned Mr. Gjoni he has nothing in common, only his name. He remembers that during the royal era it was possible to exchange Albanian currency even in Italy. They have exported tobacco and cigarettes, they traded with Kosovo as well as Montenegro. When war started, Mussolini, at least constructed roads and a few beautiful buildings in Tirana. After him the country was occupied by Germans. When the war ended they were to become the seventh federative republic of Yugoslavia. They did not want it therefore they became friends with the Russians. But in 1960 Khrushchev started to build a submarine base in the town of Vlora. They didn’t like it and therefore they united with China. But that relation brought them Cultural Revolution of the Mao Tse Tung variety … they have sent clerks to villages, and officially prohibited all religions. Albania became the only officially atheist country in the world. And the next catastrophe happened when the Russians occupied Czecho-Slovakia in 1968. Enver Hodja withdrew from the Warsaw Pact and wanted independence in the country’s defence!

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FROM

B I E DY D O C H U D O BY

Tak to je teda sila, povedal Štefan Margeťák, keď sa veľký boeing odlepil od zeme a zmizol v oblakoch. Práve sa vydal na svoj prvý let v živote, a to hneď transkontinentálny. „Tak to je teda sila,“ povedal druhýkrát, keď sa lietadlo blížilo k New Yorku a z podvečerného šera sa vynorili obrysy rozsvieteného Manhattanu. Nasledujúce ráno zmizol v útrobách ďalšieho veľkého stroja a o štyri hodiny neskôr vystúpil v Port au Prince, hlavnom meste Haiti. Keď v Európe nasadal do lietadla, bola snehová víchrica, v Karibiku ho vítalo 42 stupňov Celzia. „Tak to je teda sila,“ povedal Štefan tretí a posledný raz. K ničomu z toho, čo zažil v najbližších dňoch, sa už tento nadšený komentár nehodil.

MISERY TO POVERT Y

What a power, stated Stefan Margetak, when the giant Boeing left earth and disappeared into the clouds. He already started his first flight in life, and even a transcontinental one. “What a power,” he said for the second time when the airplane approached New York and from the twilight emerged contours of lighted Manhattan. The next morning he disappeared inside another giant machine and four hours later disembarked in Port au Prince, the capital of Haiti. When he boarded the airplane in Europe there was a blizzard accompanied by thunder, whereas, in the Caribbean he was greeted with 42 degrees Celsius. “What a power,” said Stefan for the third and last time. For what he was about to experience in the days ahead, this enthusiastic commentary was no longer appropriate.

Bohatstvo spočíva v chudobe. Túto myšlienku už Štefan počul, keď sa pár mesiacov pred odletom na Haiti stretol na Slovensku s Augustínom Vreckom. Štefan pochádza z Oravy, je sirota, jedna z jeho sestier je rehoľníčka. Asi to tak malo byť, že sa títo dvaja muži stretli. Neváhal a prijal ponuku vybrať sa na tri mesiace pomáhať Augustínovi v jeho diele. Páčila sa mu myšlienka, že aj on môže dakomu pomôcť, že bude užitočný. Mal o tom svoje predstavy, ale asi iné než to, čo ho vítalo na Haiti. Radšej mlčal, kým spoznával hlavné mesto Port au Prince. Architektúra, ktorú tu po sebe zanechali Francúzi, zostala v troskách, tým dominuje jediný dokonale zrekonštruovaný objekt, prezidentský palác. Čím ďalej od neho, tým horšie. Honosný názov Boulevard des Americas je len pozlátka, tobogan, ktorý človeka strhne do štvrte Cité de Soleil. Slumy, smradľavá stoka, kopy špiny, bieda, akú dvadsaťštyriročný chlapec z Oravy nikdy nevidel a nedokázal si ju ani len predstaviť. Bola to jeho prvá misia, na ktorú sa podujal ako dobrovoľník. Je stavbár, vie murovať. V ruksaku si priviezol vlastnú kelňu. Najradšej by ju bol hneď vybral, ale prvé tri dni iba posedával a čakal.

Wealth is based in poverty. Stefan already heard that idea when he, several months before his departure for Haiti, met Augustin Vrecko in Slovakia. Stefan comes from Orava, he is an orphan, and one of his sisters is a nun. Probably it was meant to happen that these two men meet. He did not hesitate and decided to accept the offer to help Augustin for three months in his work. He liked the idea that he can help somebody, that he would be useful. He had own imagination, but probably different compared to the actual Haitian experience. He preferred to stay silent when visiting the capital Port au Prince. Architecture, left behind by the French, remained in ruins, dominated by a perfectly reconstructed facility, the presidential palace. The more you go away from the palace, the worse. Proud name Boulevard des Americas. It’s only gilt slide, pushing man to the district of Cité de Soleil. Slums, stinking sewers, piles of dirt – poverty the likes of which a 24-year-old youth from Orava had never seen and could hardly imagine. This was his first mission, he joined as a volunteer. He is a construction worker, he can lay bricks. In his backpack he has his own trowel. He would love to use it immediately, but the first three days he was only sitting and waiting.

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Na nákladniak, ktorému sa pokazili brzdy a odpoveď na otázku, kedy ho konečne opravia, bola vo hviezdach. Na auto, ktoré mal Augustín kúpiť, aby sa vôbec dostali do dedinky Aquamithe, kde mal pôsobiť. S vervou vyložil veci z dreveného skladu na dvore saleziánskej školy a potom pri nich nečinne posedával. Pozeral sa na všetky tie veci, ktoré v kontajneri priplávali z Európy. Veci, čo nakúpil Augustín alebo ich zozbieral od ľudí, ktorí chceli Haiťanom nejako pomôcť. Bolo tam všetko! Kovové domce poskladané v škatuliach, ktoré mal Štefan neskôr skladať, knihy, hračky, ale aj staré sandále. Pochrómované stoličky, kompóty, svetre. A stará francúzska sofa v štýle Ľudovíta XVI., ktorej využitie si nedokázal predstaviť. Kto na nej sedával? Kde? Pri krbe? Mal v ústach fajku? Popíjal čaj? Alebo koňak? Kedy to bolo? Každá z týchto vecí mala svoju históriu. Ale kto by sa dokázal na ne nečinne pozerať tri dni? Štefan nerozumel, nechápal, dokola opakoval, že on prišiel murovať a nie posedávať. „Toto je Haiti, Štefan,“ opakoval mu Augustín. „Toto nie je Slovensko ani Belgicko, tu všetko trvá dlhšie.“ Lenže, ako dlho? Akú hodnotu má čas v krajine, o ktorej vravia, že je najbiednejšia na celej západnej pologuli? My máme o chudobe celkom iné predstavy. Aj o Karibiku. Čarovné pláže, biely piesok, blankytné more, palma ohýbajúca sa v sviežom vetre. V Port au Prince by takúto fotografiu neurobil ani ten najlepší fotograf. More je smetisko. Kým sa k nemu dostanete, musíte prejsť horou odpadkov a nevšímať si nevraživé pohľady životných stroskotancov, čo tu trávia celé dni. Stratili predstavu o čase aj o zmysle života. Posedávajú pri hnedej páchnucej vode, v ktorej sa kúpe zopár nahých chlapov, mdlo sa pozerajú na postavičky skrútené priamo na pláži do pózy, ktorá nevyvolávala pochybnosti o tom, čo práve robia. Najchudobnejšia a najzaostalejšia krajina západnej pologule, to je Haiti. So šialenými cenami, ktoré vyvoláva nedostatok všetkého.

For a truck, with broken brakes and the answer when finally it would be repaired, was on the feet of the gods. Waiting for a car which Augustin should buy in order to even get to the small village of Aquamithe, where he is supposed to work. With enthusiasm he brought his items from a wooden depot on the backyard of the Salesian school and he was sitting without any activity. He was watching all the items which in a container arrived from Europe. Items purchased by Augustin or collected from people who wanted to help in certain way people in Haiti. Everything was there! Metal houses folded in boxes, which Stefan should later assemble – books, toys, but also old sandals. Chromium-treated chairs, compotes, sweaters. And an old French sofa in the style of Louis XVI, and he could not imagine its use. Who has used it? Where? Close to the fireplace? With a pipe in mouth? Drinking tea? Or cognac? And when was that? Each of the items had its own history. But who could manage looking at them without any activity during three days? Stefan did not understand, he repeated again and again that he came to lay bricks and not to sit and wait. “This is Haiti, Stefan,” repeated for him Augustin. “This is not Slovakia nor Belgium, here everything takes longer.” But how long? What is the value of time in a country about which they say that is the poorest country of the entire western hemisphere? We have completely different ideas about poverty. Also about the Caribbean, too. Wonderful beaches, white sand, blue sea, a palm moving in the fresh breeze. In Port au Prince such a picture even the best photographer could not manage. Sea as waste deposit. Until you reach the sea, you have to pass mountains of waste and not think about the hostile looks from the shipwrecked persons, who spend entire days here. They have lost any notion of time as well as of a sense of life. They sit close to brown stinking water, in which a few naked men swim, the faintest glance at them twisting right there on the beach into a position that left no doubt as to that what they are doing. The most poor and lagging behind country of the western hemisphere – Haiti. With crazy prices causing a shortage of everything.

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T R O P PA G R AT I A SAN ANTONIO

Svokrine jazyky? Ida Buzzo ich má vo svojej záhrade v severnej Austrálii celý záhon a darí sa im skvele. Narástli čosi vyše metra, priamo prekvitajú. „Tak sa tie rastliny u vás volajú?“ spýta sa a trpko sa zasmeje. „Výstižné!“ dodá už bez úsmevu. Kým však porozpráva svoj príbeh, prejde celý deň, a to mali spomienky čas vyblednúť už celých štyridsaťpäť rokov! Vtedy sa jej manžel Rino vybral do Austrálie za prácou a ona zostala v Taliansku, pri Benátkach. So svokrou. „Svokrine jazyky! Výstižný názov, veľmi výstižný!“ povie. Neodchádzalo sa jej za mužom do Austrálie ľahko, ale svokrin jazyk jej rozhodnutie spečatil. Lenže ani tento kontinent nebol dosť ďaleko, aby sa ho navždy zbavila. „Uskromňovali sme sa, aby sme mohli podporovať manželovu matku a jeho sestru. Vždy sme si povedali, že bez práčky sa ešte chvíľu zaobídeme, že umývačku riadu zasa až tak nepotrebujeme. Keď sme ich po čase podporovať prestali, bolo ešte horšie,“ dodá. A potom povie, že v Európe bola pred dvadsiatimi rokmi a viac sa do Talianska nechystá. „S rodinou sa stretnúť nechcem. A pre všetkých ostatných som cudzia žena. Pozerajú sa na mňa a spytujú sa, kto to je a čo tu chce. Taliansko sa celkom zmenilo, už tam nepatrím. Ale priviezla som si odtiaľ od švagrinej recept na tiramisu, nedáte si?“ V tej chvíli sa jej rozžiaria oči a už aj diktuje svoj recept. „Päť žĺtkov, osem polievkových lyžíc cukru, dobre vymiešame, pridáme syr mascarpone, potom piškóty. Na krém treba pohár veľmi silnej kávy, do ktorej nalejeme pohár bieleho vína. A keďže v Austrálii talianske amaretto nemajú, ja do neho pridávam trochu whisky, trochu brandy, trochu cinzana a trochu rumu.“ Päťkrát so svojím tiramisu vyhrala súťaž o najlepší múčnik, ale ani jej nezíde na um, aby si kúsok dala. Pri tej predstave ju až zatrasie. Všetkého veľa škodí…

Sansevieria? Ida Buzzo has them in her garden in northern Australia – a complete flower bed and they grow wonderfully. They have grown more than one meter, they prosper. “You call these flowers in the country of your mother-in-law tongue?” she asks, and bitterly laughs. “Appropriate!” she adds, but without a smile. But before she tells her story, the entire day would pass, and her memories had time to fade for a full 45 years! At that time her husband Rino left for Australia for work and she remained in Italy, near Venice. With her mother-inlaw. “Tongue of mother- in-law! An appropriate name, very appropriate!” she says. It was not easy for her to follow her husband in Australia, but the tongue of mother-in-law finalised her decision. But even this continent was not far enough away, to be gone forever. “We lived sparingly, in order to support the mother of my husband and his sister. We have always told ourselves that we can survive for a while without the washing machine, that we do not need so badly the dishwasher. When after a certain period of time we ceased to support them, it became even worse,” she adds. And later she would say that she was in Europe twenty years ago and she would not travel again to Italy. “I do not want to meet my family. And for the others I am a foreign woman. They watch me and ask who it is and what she wants here. Italy changed completely, I do not belong there. But I brought from there, from my sisterin-law, a recipe for tiramisu, would you like to have it?” In that moment her eyes radiate and immediately she starts to dictate the recipe. “Five egg yolks, eight spoons of sugar, mix well, add mascarpone cheese, then lady fingers. For cream you need one cup of very strong coffee, add one glass of white wine. And as in Australia they do not have Italian amaretto, I add a little bit of whisky, little bit of brandy, little bit of Cinzano and little bit of rum.” Five times she won with her tiramisu the competition for the best cake, but she would not even think of eating a small piece. With that imagination she even starts to shake. Too much of everything would harm…

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Obskakuje okolo hostí, nakladá na taniere, odnáša ich. Keď jej chcete pomôcť, zostane prekvapená. „Na to ma nenaučili, poznala som iný obraz. Môj muž sedí za stolom, vedľa neho svokra, ja všetkých obsluhujem, starám sa o deti a popritom sa učím angličtinu, slovo po slove. Nikdy som sa ju nenaučila poriadne!“ „Nóubády lóvs mí,“ zatiahne so silným talianskym prízvukom, keď zistí, že nemá na odkazovači žiaden odkaz. „ÓK!“ Dnes žije sama v mestečku Katherine na severe Austrálie, občas k nej zájde syn Roberto. Nezávislá, hrdá Austrálčanka s talianskou krvou. S najmenším psom, akého si viete predstaviť, s Princeznou, ktorá sa nechá pohladkať od všetkých, len nie od nej. A so záhonom svokriných jazykov v záhrade.

She serves her guests. She puts on plates, removes the plates. In case you would try to help her she would be surprised. “I have not learned that, I knew a different picture. My husband sitting at the table, close to him my mother-in-law, I serve for all of them, care for children and along with that I learn the English language, word after word. I never learnt it properly!” “Nobody loves me,” she says with a strong Italian accent when she discovers there is no message on her answering machine. “OK!” Today she lives alone in a small town of Katherine in north of Australia, and from time to time her son Roberto visits her. An independent, proud Australian with Italian blood. With the smallest dog you can imagine – Princess, everybody can stroke her except her lady. And with a bed of Sansevieria in her garden.

Melbourne, južná Austrália. Mišo Kolek rozpráva, akoby mu za to platili. Najskôr o herečke Nicole Kidmanovej, o tom, že kvôli kríze predala vilu iba za polovicu jej ceny, čiže za trinásť miliónov austrálskych dolárov, ale že padli iba ceny drahých víl, tie bežné, za milión či poldruha milióna na hodnote nestrácajú, a to je dobre. Zrazu už rozpráva o vojne v Juhoslávii, o tom, ako sa bili Srbi s Chorvátmi ešte aj v Austrálii, kým nezasiahla polícia. Dodá, že jeho to nezaujíma, lebo on je Slovák z Vojvodiny, z dediny Selenče. Prišiel, keď mal dvadsaťjeden rokov, dnes má tridsaťosem, a že na Európu kašle.

Melbourne. Miso Kolek talks as if he was being paid for it. Firstly about the actress Nicole Kidman, that because of the crises she sold her villa at half price, that means 13 million Australian dollars, but only prices of the expensive villas were reduced, the usual villas, for a million or one and half million did not lose their value, and that’s good. Immediately he talks about war in Yugoslavia, about the Serbs fighting with Croatians even in Australia, until the arrival of the police. He adds that he is not interested, because he is a Slovak from the autonomous region Vojvodina in Serbia, from the village of Selenče. He arrived when he was 21, today he is 38, and he does not care about Europe.

Kapry sú premnožené, priviezli ich z Európy, ničia brehy riek, smrdia blatom a nikto ich neje. Aj kengury sú premnožené, dlhé roky ich chránili a teraz sa celé stáda vrhajú na polia. Koala? Premnožená! Pritom tieto zvieratá majú nádhernú kožušinu. Lenže ochranári radšej uvažujú o tom, ako ich sterilizovať. No a králiky? Úplná katastrofa, dajú sa kúpiť aj v mäsiarstve, lenže na obed treba až štyroch, ak sa má rodina najesť. To sa už zhovárame s Mikulášom Rusnákom.

Carp are far too plentiful. Imported from Europe, they destroy river banks, stink and nobody eats them. Also kangaroos are too plentiful, for many years they were protected and now complete herds attack fields. Koala? Far too many! And these animals have a beautiful fur. But protectionists think instead about how to sterilize them. And what about rabbits? Complete catastrophe, you can buy them also from butcher, but for one lunch you would need three or four for the entire family. Now we are talking with Mikulas Rusnak.

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Keď večer sedíme spolu za stolom v ich dome, rozhovor pokračuje témou o nedostatku vody. Podzemnej je málo, a aj tá, čo je, je zväčša slaná. V Austrálii teda využívajú najmä povrchovú, dažďovú. Štát dáva subvencie na práčky, čo míňajú menej vody, tretinu až polovicu ich ceny. Ak chcete tank na dažďovú vodu do domácnosti, štát prispeje až dvoma tisíckami dolárov. Solárna energia? Ak si jej dokážete vyrobiť navyše, štát ju od vás odkúpi za štvornásobne vyššiu cenu, než vám ju predáva. „Napriek tomu je v Austrálii voda lacnejšia než na Slovensku,“ dodá Mikuláš Rusnák. Jeho manželka pracuje na operačnej sále. Rozpráva o čínskych zdravotných sestrách, čo prišli a ktoré o tom, čo je sterilita, asi nikdy ani nepočuli. Lenže, sestier je málo… Manželia Rusnákovci žijú v Austrálii už dvadsaťsedem rokov. Vychovali dve deti, zo Slovenska odchádzali preto, aby sa práve ony mali raz lepšie. Ich syn žije v Tasmánii, má dve deti, oni dve vnúčence, čo nerady rozprávajú po slovensky. Nový domov, nová reč. Angličtina. Ich dcéra žila dva roky na Slovensku. Krajina, odkiaľ pochádza, sa jej páčila. Znova ju našla.

When we are sitting together at the table in the evening in their house, the discussion continues about the theme of the water shortage. Limited underground water and even what is available is mostly salty water. In Australia, they are using mainly the surface, rain water. The state provides subsidies for washing machines that consume less water, one third up to half of their price. If you would like to have a tank for rain water for your household, the state will contribute up to two thousand Australian dollars. Solar energy? If you can manage to produce more than you need, the state will purchase it from you for a price four times higher than the price of energy sold to you. “Nonetheless, water in Australia is cheaper than in Slovakia,” adds Mikulas Rusnak. His wife works at an operating theatre. She talks about Chinese nurses who arrived and who probably never heard about sterility. But there is a shortage of nurses… As man and wife the Rusnaks have lived in Australia for 27 years already and have raised two children. They left Slovakia so that their children could one day have a better life. Their son lives in Tasmania, he has two children, they have two grandchildren, who do not like to talk in Slovak. New home, new language. English. Their daughter lived for two years in Slovakia. The country, from which she came, she liked. She found that country again.

Adelaide, južná Austrália, hodina letu z Melbourne. Marino Bonnini nevie čítať ani písať, ale čo do štedrosti asi nemá páru. Nepozná slová „Ďakujem, neprosím si!“, iba – „Musíš!“ A grapa je predsa talianska špecialita, ktorú odmietnuť nemožno. Josephine, Teresa, Pellegrino, zišla sa celá rodina, teraz sa prekrikujú ako v talianskom filme, hoci aj oni žijú na tomto kontinente už takmer pol storočie. „Musíš!“ kričí Marino a podáva raz tanier so sušienkami, potom pohárik s grapou. Austrálskej krvi by sa v ňom nikto nedorezal. Zostal Talianom.

Adelaide. One hour’s flight from Melbourne. Marino Bonnini is illiterate, but his generosity is unparalleled. He does not know the words “Thank you, I do not wish!”, only – “You must!” And grappa is an Italian specialty, you cannot refuse it. Josephine, Teresa, Pellegrino, the entire family convened, now they shout like in an Italian movie, they too have lived on this continent for close to half a century. “You must!” Marino shouts, and hands over a plate with biscuits, later a cup with grappa. Australian blood you would not find in him. He remained an Italian.

„Keď sme sem v roku 1968 prišli a zostali stáť na tejto červenej zemi, môj manžel povedal – Eva, ja do tej špiny tie kufre nikdy nepoložím!

“When we arrived here in 1968 and stood on this red earth, my husband told me – Eva, I would never put these suitcases on such dirty earth!

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K RO KO D Í L

CROCODILE

A CHUDOBA

Bibing umrela v piatok zavčas rána. Ak sa vôbec dá hovoriť o smrti ako o vyslobodení, potom v prípade tejto štyridsaťsedemročnej ženy to bola pravda. Pred necelým pol rokom jej amputovali prsník. Rakovina. Viac lekára nevidela. Žiadne chemoterapie, nič. Jedna dávka vychádza na tridsaťtisíc filipínskych pesos, asi päťsto eur, potrebovala by ich šesť. Kde by na to vzala peniaze, keď celá rodina žije asi zo sto eur mesačne? Lekár k nej neprišiel ani vo štvrtok večer, keď ležala v kóme. S jej svokrou to vybavil cez telefón. Zvýšte jej dávku morfia! Ale aj to bolo drahé… Zavolali k nej kňaza, aby jej dal posledné pomazanie. Modlitby, pár kropají svätenej vody. Okolo sa tmolili jej dve malé deti, manžel musel ísť do práce, občas sa na prahu domu zjavil dakto zo susedov. Chudobní Filipínčania žijú aj umierajú spolu, bieda ich zbližuje. Cez steny často iba z palmového lístia počuť všetko, domec prilepený o ďalší, ak je dakde betónové schodisko, aké vedie i do domu Bibing, aj pod ním ktosi býva. Slová kňaza preto museli počuť aj susedia. Amen, zaznelo posledné slovo Laca Miku. Tridsaťročný Slovák, ktorý sa na Filipínach ocitol ako misionár čakajúci na vízum do Pakistanu, mal za sebou svoje prvé posledné pomazanie. Ráno sa dozvedel, že Bibing umrela. Toto bola realita. Nie jeho niekdajšie chlapčenské predstavy, že misionár sa má dobre, lebo sa môže dívať na krokodíla zblízka. Môže, lenže keď sa človek ocitne v ďalekej cudzine, vidí nielen krokodíla, ale začne vnímať aj ľudí, čo tu žijú, aby nakoniec pochopil, že krokodíl je celkom nepodstatný.

AND POVERT Y

Bibing died on Friday early in the morning. If it would be possible to talk about death as liberation, it was true in the case of this 47-year-old woman. Less than half a year ago they have amputated her nipple. Cancer. No more visits from the doctor. No chemotherapy, nothing. One dose costs 30,000 Philippine pesos, about 500 euros, and she would need six of them. From where to get that money when the entire family lives on about 100 euros per month? Doctor did not even arrive Thursday evening when she was in a coma. With her mother-in-law he had organized it on the phone. Increase her morphine dose! But also that was expensive… They called for a priest, to administer extreme unction. Prayers, a few drops of holy water. Nearby two small children wandered, her husband was obliged to go to work, from time to time at the entrance somebody from the neighbourhood appeared. Poor Filipinos live and die together, poverty draws them together. Through the walls made of only palm leaves everything can be heard, houses close to one another, if there is a concrete staircase, like that one leading to the house of Bibing, even below stairs somebody would house. The priest’s words, for sure, were overheard by the neighbours. Amen, was the last word of Laco Mika. A 30-year-old Slovak, who arrived in the Philippines as a missionary waiting for visa for Pakistan, has administered his first extreme unction. In the morning he was informed that Bibing had died. That was the reality. Not his former boyish imaginations, that a missionary would be fine, because he can watch crocodiles up close. He can, but when a person arrives to remote foreign country, he would see not only a crocodile, but he would start to apprehend also people who live there in order finally to understand that a crocodile is completely unimportant.

Delia Bejerová má päťdesiat rokov a usmieva sa ako letuška. Široký šťastný úsmev, len ho, na rozdiel od letušiek, nepredstiera. Má dvoch synov, jeden sa oženil, žije s Annou Mariou, s tou má už tri deti.

Delia Bejer is 50 years old and smiles like a stewardess. Wide a happy smile, but unlike a stewardesses she is not pretending. She has two sons, one married, he lives with Anna Maria, and they have already three children.

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Ako vychádzajú z chatrče, predstavuje ich jedného po druhom. Anna Maria drží na rukách malé dieťa a jeho hlavu si pritláča k ľavému plecu. K pravému nemôže, tam má už štyri roky obrovský hrvoľ. Človek nemusí byť lekár, aby pochopil, že to súvisí so štítnou žľazou. „Lekár? Toho sa bojím!“ povie a dodá, že bez lekára radšej porodila aj svoje deti. „Tu,“ ukáže na chatrč v slumovej štvrti mesta s udupanou hlinou namiesto dlážky. Sporák, to sú tri kamene, na ktorých stojí očadený hrniec. Delia Bejerová sa rozosmeje a povie – „Iný nemám a varím iba ryžu, však aj tak nič iné nejeme.“ Všade dokola sa povaľujú odpadky. Z nich žijú. Vždy nadránom vyrazia zbierať plastové fľaše a tie potom predávajú na recykláciu. Zarobia na nich asi pätnásť eur za týždeň. Voda? „Nemáme,“ odvetí Delia. Elektrika? „Nemáme,“ zasmeje sa. „Bývame tu už dvadsať rokov,“ dodá. „Ale kedykoľvek nás môžu vyhodiť aj s domom, pozemok je súkromný, len nie náš.“ Kam sa podel krokodíl z Lacovho detstva? Spomína na mamu, ktorá vždy posielala balíčky na misie. Bol príliš malý, aby chápal, kam a komu tie balíčky idú, mal sotva päť rokov. Potom však prichádzali ďakovné listy a mama ich zvykla svojim deťom čítať. Ďakovali za ceruzky, za zošity, za hračky… Z tých listov bolo cítiť neznáme diaľavy, mali chuť iných kultúr, zapáčili sa mu, dokonca vyhlásil, že aj on raz bude misionárom. Lenže, potom mama do jedného balíčka pribalila aj jeho obľúbené autíčko, bol z toho krik a plač, mama mu autíčko bez slova vrátila a on už misionárom byť nechcel. „Ešte aj dnes sa za to hanbím,“ povie Laco, kým Delia Bejerová rozkladá pod odymeným hrncom oheň. „Zohnali sme pre nich dom,“ vraví Regina Palencia. Laco prikyvuje. Ate Regi, mama Regi. Jedna z troch žien, ktoré vstúpili do jeho života na Filipínach. Ate Regi už tridsaťpäť rokov spolupracuje so saleziánmi, organizuje adopcie na diaľku.

As the children leave the shack, he would introduce one after the other one. Anna Maria has in her hands a small child and holds his head on her left shoulder. It would not work for the right shoulder, for four years she has there a giant gullet. A person doesn’t need to be a doctor in order to understand that it has something to do with the thyroid gland. “A doctor? I’m afraid!” she says, and adds that she preferred to deliver her children without a doctor. “There,” she points to the shack in slum district of the town with its beaten earth instead of flooring. Stove is made up of three stones, above them a smoky pot. Delia Bejer starts laughing and says – “I have no other pot and I cook only rice, indeed we don’t eat anything else.” Everywhere around waste. They make their living from waste. Always at day break they part to collect plastic bottles and later they will sell them for recycling. They will earn about 15 euros per week. Water? “We do not have it,” Delia answers. Electricity? “We do not have it,” she laughs. “We have lived here already for 20 years,” she adds. “But at anytime they can throw us out – including the shack. This is private land that does not belong to us.” Where did that crocodile from Laco’s childhood disappear to? He recalls his mother, who always sent packages to missions. He was small, too small to understand where and for whom these packages were to, he was hardly five years old. But later letters of thank arrived and mother used to read them for the children. Saying thanks for pencils, exercise books, toys… From these letters, the feeling of unknown distances, the taste of other cultures, he liked them. He even declared that one day he would become a missionary, too. But later his mother included in one package also his favourite car, a toy, which caused much screaming and crying. His mother took back that car without a word and he no longer wanted to become a missionary. “Even today I am ashamed,” says Laco, and Delia Bejer prepares below her smoky pot a fire. “We have arranged a house for them,” says Regina Palencia. Laco nods. Ate Regi, mother of Regi. One of three women who became a part of his life in the Philippines. Ate Regi already for 35 years cooperates with Salesians, organizing remote adoptions.

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OBSAH CONTENTS

BYŤ PRI ĽUĎOCH A PRE ĽUDÍ T O BE WITH PEOPLE AND FOR PEOPLE

P RIATEĽSTVÁ AKO SIBÍRSKE JEDLE F RIENDSHIPS LIKE S IBERIAN FIRS

T ONO ZVANÝ Ž ULA T ONO ALSO KNOWN AS G RANITE

N A S IBÍRI I N S IBERIA

S EDEM STATOČNÝCH M AGNIFICENT SEVEN

V TIENI E NVERA H ODŽU I N THE SHADOW OF E NVER H ODJA

107

Z BIEDY DO CHUDOBY F ROM MISERY TO POVERTY

129

T ROPPA T ROPPA

GRATIA SAN GRATIA SAN

A NTONIO A NTONIO

157

K ROKODÍL A CHUDOBA C ROCODILE AND POVERTY

175

M ODLIA SA AJ KOMUNISTI A LSO C OMMUNISTS PRAY

207

P OŠTÁRKA P OŠTÁRKA

229