Sunday, May 13  - Ancestral Roots Day

The rain that began Saturday evening continued throughout the day today and the temperature dropped from the 70’s to the 40’s.  The forecast summer month went into hiding and there was snow on the mountains and near some of the lakes.  In brief, we all froze!   And there were no sweat shirt shops to be found!   However, in Croatia, there are always coffee bars and  warm welcomes.  

We drove through the rain to St. Nickolas Serbian Orthodox Church in Karlovaca where some of our group experienced their first Orthodox worship service.  The church was built in the 11^th century and has been destroyed several times, most recently in the war of the 90’s but rebuilt by the bishop about 5 years ago.   Very few persons attend services, as they still fear ethnic reprisals, but the priest Fr. Sasa was very welcoming and also guided us to the local Monastery and a scheduled visit with the Bishop for this region of Croatia.  (See photos at end of this blog)

We expected a brief meeting, but were ushered into the monastery main hall to meet with the Bishop, a monk (who was their webmaster and spoke perfect English), and Fr. Sasa.   However, they seemed to have all the time in the world for us; inquired about our trip and ancestors; answered questions about the Orthodox Church in Croatia; and offered us juice, kiffles ( a cookie my mother used to make), cake,  sheep cheese, and Sljivovica  (very strong brandy) at 11 a.m.   Definitely a way to keep warm on a cold day in May.   (More photos)

From the monastery we travelled to  Blatusa in search of  Rose’s and my grandfather’s home and our roots.   It is important to give thanks to Guy Fisher (who is doing ALL the driving); Peggy Fisher our friend and genealogist, who developed the idea for this trip and planned a fantastic agenda; and Jugoslava, a Serbian genealogist  in Turkey, who searched endless documents to find our family history; and Brenda and Glenn who were willing to use their vacation time to help us find family roots.  To them we will be forever grateful.   Through them we learned things our relatives never talked about.  We did  know my grandfather, Vaso Oresconin,  emigrated to the U.S.A. in 1917. We didn’t know he emigrated on his brother’s passport to escape the military.  We knew we had a great grandfather and grandmother who had been burnt alive in their barn for refusing to convert from their Serbian Orthodox faith to the Catholic faith (really an excuse to carry out ethnic cleansing of Serbs by the Croatians and not a church sponsored purging of people.   We learned that on one day in 1941, 22 relatives were massacred with dozens of others in a church in Glina and one month later almost every Serb  who was left in Blatusa was burnt alive in their homes.  This included 10 more members of the Oresconin family. 

Our grandfather’s village is off the beaten path and very sparsely inhabited.  We were most fortunate, as we knew the general direction of the village, but were told it was not marked.   On the way there we met a police officer, who told us to drive to the coffee shop up ahead and turn right.  Later we ran into a hiker along the road (at a which way do we go intersection) who told us to turn right.  We found the village and were supposed to be met by a student, who would find us – but never did.  However ----

Once in the village we found the church, which is deserted and fenced off.  We had been told our family had lived at house #31.  Few houses were numbered, but first we found the school with a monument to family members who had died in the war.  The names included Rade Oresconin, whose passport my grandfather had used to come to the states and other Oresconins.  The school has been destroyed but the structure remains with much rubble inside.  As education has always been important to the family and Rose and I were both teachers, walking through the building was very meaningful for us. 

Outside the school we wondered what next, when we saw and old man born in 1927. Peggy (who is fluent in Serbian) approached him and he  began by saying “I am a peasant,” but was willing to talk a bit.  He explained that there was almost no one in the village and also knew the Orescanin family house – the green house up the road.  Once again…divine serendipity came into play and WE WERE HOME!!!!   While there we repeatedly  heard the Cuckoo – cuckoo of the Cukica bird.  My grandfather always loved his cuckoo clock and in retrospect…perhaps it was Grandpa’s way of saying hello, I’m glad you’re here!  (Pictures follow of the house, well, barn, and outhouse – barely visible through the bushes around it.)  There are not words to describe the wonderful feeling of being on the ground where our ancestors lived and (unfortunately) died…but we felt at home.  Genetic roots go much deeper than we had ever imagined.   Our ancestors honored education and some were teachers, as Rose and I are teachers; some died for their faith and we continue to have church roots;  our Grandfathers sisters were weavers and Rose is a Weaver; my great grandmother was a gardener and herbalist , which are among my interests as well as our brothers; my grandfather emigrated because he was a pacifist as did other relatives and our brother was a conscientious objector in the Vietnam War era and we all continue (especially Rose) to work for peace on earth and an end to war!  

Our ancestral home (rebuilt after the war) sits empty.  One of the few villagers left has a large number of beehives on the back porch and has padlocked the house from the outside so no one else can get in it and to the beehives.   We were disappointed that we could not walk through the house, but content in knowing that the property is still being used in a very positive and life sustaining/nourishing way. 

Thank you, Peggy, Jugoslava, Guy, Brenda, Glen, and the serendipitous strangers/angels that helped us find our way to #31 in Blatusa, a once thriving village of Serbs in Croatia.