(Above: Definitely not a Spring photo of Smokovec. The only one I have though, as I regrettably did not bring my camera with me.)
Starý Smokovec is set halfway up the High Tatras’ steep slopes, overlooking the valley below and the gentle mountains beyond. It is a town of old buildings, many of which date from its first days as a resort in the late 19th century. As beautiful as Smokovec is, its layout is pure chaos, arranged as if someone just tossed all the buildings into the air and let them stand where they fell then drew squiggly roads between them.
A friend had given me the address of one of the season’s first craft fairs and, returning from Easter celebrations in Poprad, I decided to take the long way home and pay a visit. The small town proved deceptively difficult to navigate. Almost none of those squiggly streets were marked and, once you started down one, it was nearly impossible to guess where its twists and turns would spit you out.
After walking through a store’s service lot and employee parking, I finally made it to my destination. I was greeted by—what in every capacity could have been—a disappointing sight. Four stalls sat on worn cement pavement while only one other visitor browsed the displayed goods. The items were of great quality, but I had expected long market stalls and an overwhelming variety of crafts (high-hopes, I suppose, for that early in the season), but I resolved to make up for lacking size by engaging with the vendors themselves. I stopped first at a leatherworker’s stand. He greeted me, looking up from the project he was then working on, as I admired the beauty of the belts, bracelets, anklets, ect. which he had crafted. After a moment, the man noticed that I seemed particularly interested in his work and spoke to me in Slovak. I didn’t quite pick up what he said and apologized, explaining that I am exchange student from the US.
He smiled a bit, “Aha, English then.”
We spoke for several minutes, he describing his studies in forestry and strong interest in Native American culture. I returned that my home of Asheville is the birthplace of modern forestry and that my family has friends who are Cherokee. This lucky junction of interests and knowledge made for captivating and instantly friendly conversation. I had already selected a couple of items—one for myself and the other a gift—but he offered me one of anything to take back to our Cherokee friends as a gift! Overwhelmed, I accepted but insisted on buying yet another item so I could give both of their daughters something. Eventually, I thanked him and moved on to the other stalls, but not before getting his email address. I have a very strong interest in exploring the folk art community here in the Tatras. I would like to visit many of the fairs and talk with more craftspeople about their traditional work and how it relates to Slovak history or their national identity. It was my hope that my new leather-working friend and the other vendors there could help me out with that.
I spent even more time at the next two stalls. First, a woman that works with metal made for me a custom gift for a person I hold dear (I cannot say what it is though, for fear the recipient will read this post). All the while, we conversed partly in Slovak and partly in English. It worked out well since we were both at about the same level in the other’s language. She would speak in English, supplementing what she didn’t know with Slovak, while I did the same in reverse. We had a pleasant conversation this way until she finished the work she was doing for me and I moved on once more.
Of the last two tables, one displayed jewelry and the other ceramics. I was not yet ready to leave, especially not when I had given such attention to and had such lovely conversations with the first two craftspeople, but (what I feared to be) an emerging tendency to walk away from each booth with something in hand made me hesitate. Jewelry would be expensive and ceramics impossible to transport. I resolved, at least, to talk with the jewelers but not commit myself to buying any of their products as I had with the previous two vendors.
Well… after thirty minutes of good conversation purely in Slovak, I could not bring myself to leave without supporting the wonderful women with whom I had connected. I purchased a couple of items and, with a bag now full of gifts and a wallet 70 euros lighter, I shook hands and bid farewell to all of the people with whom I had visited. Pleased with the conversations I had had and the connections I had made, I walked back to the tracks and continued by train through the Tatra forests towards my home.
Signed,
Andrew
