A L A N H Y Ž A ■ P E T E R K U B Í N Y I

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M I S I A ■ M I S S I O N

S L O V E N S K Í S A L E Z I Á N I V O S V E T E

S L O VA K S A L E S I A N S A R O U N D T H E W O R L D

© Alan Hyža, Peter Kubínyi:MISIA – Slovenskí saleziáni vo svete / MISSIONS – Slovak Salesians around the world

Text © Peter KubínyiFoto / Photo © Alan Hyža

Preklad / Translation © Miroslava Dulová 2009Grafická úprava / Graphic design © Juraj Martiška

© vydavateľstvo DON BOSCO 2010 / Publishing House DON BOSCO, Slovakia 2010

ISBN 978–80–8074–113–6

B Y Ť P R I Ľ U Ď O C H

A P R E Ľ U D Í

Exotika, dobrodružstvo, relax, pamiatky, cudzie jazyky… Tovšetko sú pohnútky, ktoré nás „ťahajú“ cestovať doviac či menej vzdialených končín Zeme, objavovať ne-poznané, nachádzať únik z každodennej rutiny. Turis-tické bedekre nás navigujú priamo k očakávanýmzážitkom, cestovné kancelárie sa predbiehajú v kom-fortnosti svojich služieb. Prísť, zažiť, odísť a spomínať,tak by sme mohli parafrázovať známy výrok Gaia JuliaCaesara.

Život a ľudia okolo navrhovaných trás je však akobymimo nás. No práve povedľa odporúčaných ciest sakrížia cesty osudov obyčajných ľudí, ktoré sú nemenejpôsobivé ako turistické atrakcie. Rozdiel je len v tom,že kým turistické atrakcie načierajú hlbšie do našichúspor, ľudské osudy načierajú hlbšie do našich duší,do darov a talentov, ktorých má každý z nás dostatok.

Charizma saleziánov spočíva v odkaze nášho zaklada-teľa svätého Jána Bosca – venovať sa mladým, najmätým najchudobnejším, a to nielen hmotne, ale aj du-chovne chudobným, s cieľom vychovať z nich dobrýchkresťanov a statočných občanov. Na Slovensku sa mô-žete so saleziánmi stretnúť v sedemnástich mestách,v ktorých sa venujeme hlavne mládeži v rámci boho-služieb a vysluhovania sviatostí, cez zmysluplné využí-vanie voľného času, mediálne projekty, až poposkytnutie vzdelávania a výchovy na našich školácha v domovoch mládeže.

T O B E W I T H P E O P L E

A N D F O R P E O P L E

The exotic, adventure, relaxation, monuments, foreign lan-guages. These are motives that “attract” us, compelus to travel to more or less remote region of the Earth,to discover the unknown, to escape from our everydayroutine. Travel guides navigate us directly to expectedexperience, and travel agents also compete in provi-ding comfortable services. To come, experience, andremember, to paraphrase the well-known statementof Gaius Julius Caesar.

Life for people close to designated routes appears dis-tant from us. But exactly near to the recommendedroutes cross paths with ordinary people – no less impressive than tourist attractions. There is only onedifference: tourist attractions cost more, human destinies touch our souls more deeply. It is gifts andtalents that are being experienced, and every oneof us has plenty of them.

Charisma of Salesians is based on the legacy of ourfounder Saint John Bosco – to devote to youngpeople, mainly the poorest not only materially, butalso intellectually poor people, in order to educatethem to become good Christians and brave citizens.In Slovakia, you can meet Salesians in 17 towns, inwhich we devote ourselves mainly to youth within reli-gious services and serving sacraments, via the purpo-seful spending of leisure time, media projects, as wellas the provision of education and upbringing in ourschools and houses for youth.

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Z takmer dvestopäťdesiat slovenských saleziánov je nie-koľko aj mimo rodnej vlasti. Na všetkých piatich konti-nentoch sa dali do služby tým, ktorí to skutočnepotrebujú. V Ekvádore, Rusku (na Sibíri), Azerbaj-džane, Albánsku, Austrálii, Angole, na Haiti, Filipínach(v Pakistane) a v ďalších krajinách, pôsobia Slováci –saleziánski misionári. Pomáhajú ľuďom postaviť sa navlastné nohy, získať stratenú dôstojnosť, poskytujú imvzdelanie, aby mohli dosiahnuť lepšiu budúcnosť.Byť pri nich a pre nich, to je hlavná úloha misionára,ktorý svojím životom a službou druhým dokazuje prí-tomnosť Boha na Zemi.

V tejto knihe vám ponúkame krátky výlet do vzdialenýchkončín Zeme, ale hlavne výpravu za ľudskými osudmislovenských saleziánov – misionárov a ľudí, pre kto-rých žijú. Aj týmto spôsobom chceme vzbudiť záujemo misie, prejaviť hrdosť na našich rodákov a spolupa-tričnosť s nimi, ale tiež poďakovať za 150 rokov exis-tencie saleziánskej kongregácie.

S úctou don Karol Maník, provinciál

Out of some 250 Slovak Salesians several are out of thecountry. On all five continents they started to servethose who really need it. In Ecuador, Russia (Siberia),Azerbaijan, Albania, Australia, Angola, Haiti, Philippi-nes, Pakistan and other countries Slovaks are wor-king – Salesian missionaries. They help people togain own footing, to regain their dignity or to educatethem in order to improve their future lives. To stay withthem and to be there for them, this is the main taskof the missionary, who, with his life and service docu-ments 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 tohuman destinies of Slovak Salesian missionariesand the people for whom they live. Also in this waywe would like to raise interest in missions, to demon-strate that we are proud of our natives and express solidarity with them. We also would like to pay tributeto 150 years of the Salesian congregation.

With respect, don Karol Manik, provincial

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P R I A T E Ľ S T VÁ A K O

S I B Í R S K E J E D L E

„Mám nové auto,“ povedal rozžiarene Tono Odrobiňák. Na-posledy sme sa videli v Quite, v Ekvádore, odvtedyprešiel rok a Tono sa na chvíľu dostal domov. Plnýenergie, doslova žiaril, rozprával, ako sa mu ho poda-rilo získať cez katolícku charitu. Pre neho je auto ži-votne dôležitá vec, bez neho sa ďaleko nedostane.A predsa mi bolo ľúto tej starej toyoty, ktorou sme myprešli Ekvádor a ktorej stierače šli nonstop, dážď ne-dážď, a museli sme ich vyklápať ďalej od skla, abyaspoň neškrípali. Krútili sa vo vzduchu ako dva hady.A čo tá žena, ktorej sčernala noha, a predsa nechcelaísť k lekárovi? „Žije! Je to zázrak, ale zatiaľ sa drží.Často k nej chodievam...“

„Takto to teraz vyzerá v Aquamithe!“ rozpráva AugustínVrecko a na jeho tvári sa zračí neskrývaná radosť.Ukazuje fotografie, na ktorých vidno políčko plné zele-niny a vedľa neho nové unimobunky pre dobrovoľní-kov, čo mu majú prísť pomáhať. Stoja na betónovýchplatniach, ktoré vybudoval Štefan Margeťák. Takže,nakoniec nebol na Haiti zbytočne. „Keď zozbierameprvú úrodu, časť z nej predáme a môžeme klčovať ďal-šie políčka... Dielo sa musí podariť! Moji ľudia si zaslú-žia, aby žili lepšie! Viem, že to bude trvať roky, ba ajdesaťročia a ja sa toho nedožijem, ale ktosi predsazačať musí!“

F R I E N D S H I P S L I K E

S I B E R I A N F I R S

“I have a new car,” stated Tono Odrobinak, whose facewas radiating joy. Last time we met was in Quito,Ecuador. A year passed in the meantime before Tonoarrived home for a short period of time. Full of energy,with an especially radiant face, he told us how he suc-ceeded in arranging it via the Catholic charity. For hima car is a vital item, without a car he can’t go far. But,of course, I was sorry about that old Toyota in whichwe travelled across Ecuador. The wipers were on per-manently, rain – no rain, and so we were obliged to liftthem off the windscreen so as not to hear their low-pitched squeak. They twisted in the air like two sna-kes. And what about that woman with the blackenedleg, who in no way wanted to see the doctor? “She isalive! It’s a miracle, but so far she is ok. I see her fre-quently...”

“This is Aquamithe now!” says Augustin Vrecko,with unhidden joy on his face. He shows us picturesof a small field with lots of vegetables and close to itnew barracks for volunteers who will come and helphim. They are located on concrete slabs, constructedby Stefan Margetak. So, in the end, he was not totallyuseless in Haiti. “When we collect the first harvest,part of it we can sell and we can clear other smallfields... This work must be successful! My people de-serve to live a better life! I know it will last for years,even decades and I won’t be around to see it, but so-mebody must start!”

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Striedavo sa pozerám na jeho tvár a na fotografiea v pamäti sa mi vynára obraz bezútešnej krajiny a ška-túľ s unimobunkami ležiacimi na červenej zemi. Neverilsom, že sa to Augustínovi podarí. Podarilo sa.

„Ozývam sa už z Pakistanu. Prišiel som sem pred týžd-ňom, 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 ránauž 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 tuešte nebolo,“ píše Laco Miko z Pakistanu. „Ale zvy-kám si, hoci toto má od Filipín veľmi ďaleko.“ Z jehoslov cítim, že mu je smutno za Filipínami, že do Pakis-tanu 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“. JozefTóth je v Bratislave, len na pár dní, potom odchádzado Írska na kurz angličtiny a z Dublinu letí do Moskvya potom z Moskvy na Sibír. Ale teraz je v Bratislavea my sa môžeme opäť stretnúť! Rozpráva o kresťan-skom dome v Aldane, o zime, ktorá už udrela naplno,hoci u nás sa ešte ani poriadne nezačala jeseň, o Var-vare Pavlovne, ktorá na nás myslí a posiela veľa po-zdravov. A ja mu, na oplátku, rozprávam príbehsibírskej jedle, ktorá sa ku mne dostala pred dvomarokmi. Varvara Pavlovna ju vytrhla zo sibírskej zeme,vložila do igelitového vrecka a poslala mi ju po donoviPravdovi do Bratislavy. To chúďa si užilo svoje. Najskôrna ňu na tri dni zabudol Jozef, kým ju konečne odo-vzdal Danielovi Pravdovi. Ten ju pribalil do kufra a od-letel s ňou na ďalšie stretnutia do Moskvy. Cestouv lietadle ju „trochu zlisovali“, v Moskve „trochu vy-schla“ a potom ju opäť „trochu zlisovali“ cestou v lie-tadle do Bratislavy.

I watch his face and pictures alternatively and in mymemory I see a picture of a disconsolate countryand boxes with site barracks located on red earth.I wouldn’t have believed that Augustin could be succe-ssful. 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 hereis quite bad. Every day an another assassination at-tempt. Now it is lunch time and from the morning wehad two, two policemen as well as several otherpeople die. We were obliged to close the school andsend apprentices home. All schools are closed. Thelocal people say that times have never ever been sobad,” writes Laco Miko from Pakistan. “But I am get-ting used to it, though this situation is far from the Phi-lippines.” From his words I felt that he is sad so faraway from the Philippines, that he did not want to goto Pakistan. But he left!

“Hi Peter, father Jozef speaking,” says the voice on thetelephone, in the same way as once in Ulan Bator. Noneed for introductions. I knew it’s him as soon as hesaid “Hi”. Jozef Toth is in Bratislava only for a fewdays, later he leaves for Ireland for an English courseand he will fly from Dublin to Moscow and later fromMoscow to Siberia. But now he is in Bratislava and wecan again meet! He talks about the Christian Housein Aldan, about winter, which has already started withfull force, though in our country even the autumn hadnot start properly. He talks about Varvara Pavlovna,who thinks of us and sends many greetings. Andwhen it is my turn, I will tell the story of a Siberian fir,which I have received two years ago. Varvara Pa-vlovna tore it up by the roots from Siberian soil, inser-ted into a plastic bag and sent it to me with donPravda to Bratislava. That poor thing has had hardtimes. First of all Jozef forgot about it for three days,until he finally handed it over to Daniel Pravda. He putit into his suitcase and flew to Moscow for the nextmeeting. During the flight the fir “was a little bit pre-ssed”, in Moscow “it dried a little bit” and later againgot “a little bit pressed” on the flight to Bratislava.

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Nedával som jej veľa nádeje, posadil som ju do kveti-náča a vyložil na balkón. Prežila! Na jeseň som ju od-viezol na Horehronie a zakopal do zeme ajs kvetináčom, aby tu prezimovala v podmienkach,ktoré jej aspoň trochu budú pripomínať rodnú Sibír. Naďalšiu jar sa opäť presunula do Bratislavy a na jeseňputovala späť na Horehronie. Sibírska jedľa od VarvaryPavlovny. Pätnásťcentimetrový stromček, ktorý tohoprežil 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 ajčloveku, ktorý od neho nič nečaká. Od takéhoto člo-veka sa dá naučiť nesebeckosti, schopnosť prijímaťdruhých ľudí takých, akí sú a nič im nevyčítať. Dá sas nimi rozprávať otvorene o hocičom, poznajú životz tej druhej strany, odkiaľ ho my neraz nevidíme alebovidieť nechceme. Sú vytrvalí, veria tomu, čo robia, ne-zmáha ich sebaľútosť. A dokážu byť človeku oporou ajvtedy, keď už všetci ostatní stratia nervy. Ich život jemisia. A misia je poslanie. Poslanie byť tu pre tých dru-hých.

Peter Kubínyi

With little hope I planted it into a flower pot on the bal-cony. The fir survived! In autumn I transported the potto the Upper Hron region and planted the entire pot insoil, to hibernate in conditions only a little bit similar toconditions at home in Siberia. In the spring I transpor-ted the pot back to Bratislava and in autumn againback to Upper Hron region. This Siberian fir 15-centi-metres high has lived through a lot since being sent byVarvara Pavlovna. And despite that it is vivid – like thefriendships born during our journeys to the Salesians.

Someone who has decided to share himself also has so-mething to offer to someone who is expecting nothingfrom him. From such a person you can learn unselfish-ness, the ability to accept other people such as theyare – with nothing to reprimand. You can discuss anysubject 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 arenot managed by self-pity. And they can support a per-son even when all others have already given up. Theirlife is a mission. And mission is commitment – a com-mitment to be here for others.

Peter Kubinyi

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Občas, keď niečo hľadám v zásuvke plnej starých osob-ných vecí, dostane sa mi do rúk malý kríž. Drevený,s kovovým odliatkom Krista, práca, aká sa dnes už ne-nájde. Mám ho roky. Voľakedy dávno ho mojim starýmrodičom daroval rodinný priateľ. Muž, čo dlho žil v cu-dzine a vedel po anglicky, misionár. Už sa nepamätámna jeho meno, vlastne som ho ani nikdy presne nepoz-nal, tak isto ako krajinu, z ktorej prišiel. Dnes to už aninie je dôležité. Bol som chlapec a ten tajomný muž po-chádzal z iného sveta a robil neznámu prácu. Niečo,o čom sa často hovorí, ale nikto presne nevie, čov sebe skrýva.

Potom, oveľa neskôr, som počul chýry o akomsi donoviŠutkovi. Ušiel pred komunizmom, skončil v Ekvádore,živoril medzi indiánmi v džungli, roky nevidel rodinu,najbližších. Život plný strádania. Postupne pribúdaliďalšie príbehy, osudy, aké dokáže zaranžovať len život.Viac alebo menej dramatické, avšak všetky zaujímavéa celkom určite hodné zaznamenania. Zatúžil som týchto ľudí spoznať osobne. Pochopil som, že sú po-kračovateľmi niečoho, čo sa začalo pred stáročiami.Šírenia skutočnej viery v dobro, úcty k človeku, rozum-ného využívania pokroku. Chcel som spoznať ichprácu, myslenie, životné postoje. Ako fotograf somtúžil zachytiť ľudskú stránku týchto osobností, priblížiťich každodenný život. V tej chvíli vzniklo to, čo je preprácu dokumentaristu najdôležitejšie – záujem.

From time to time when I am looking for somethingin my drawer filled with old private items, I will finda small cross – a wooden cross with a metal castingof Christ. A work you cannot find today. I’ve had it foryears. A long time ago, it was a gift to my grandpa-rents from a family friend. He was a man who lived formany years abroad and spoke English, a missionary.I do not remember his name – actually I never knewhis exact name, or the country he came from. Todayit no longer matters. I was a boy and that mysteriousman came from a different world and performed anunknown work. Something which was frequently dis-cussed, but nobody knew exactly what was behind it.

Later, much later I heard rumours about a certain donSutka. He escaped from communism and landed inEcuador, living from hand to mouth among Indians inthe jungle, not seeing his family or relatives for years.A life filled with suffering. Gradually adding up the sto-ries, the destinies, it’s clear that only life can arrangethem thus. Some are more or less dramatic; but allof them interesting and for sure noteworthy. I hada dream to meet these people in person. I understoodthat they represent a continuation of something thatstarted centuries ago – dissemination of real beliefin good, respect for human beings, reasonable useof progress. I wanted to know their work, thinking, lifeattitudes. As a photographer I had a dream to capturethe human side of these personalities and to presenttheir everyday life. At this moment the interest wascreated, and it is a critical juncture for a documentaryphotographer.

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Moju prácu spočiatku sťažovalo to, že som bol úplnýmoutsiderom. Nepoznal som problematiku katolicizmua o zákonitostiach života rehoľníkov som mal hmlistúpredstavu. A tak cez záujem a zvedavosť prerastaliobavy. Dovolia mne, človeku zvonku, navyše votrelcovis fotoaparátom, aby som sa k nim priblížil? Budevôbec možné zachytiť ich ľudský rozmer bez zaužíva-ného klišé tak, ako som si želal? Všetky predsudky,bariéry a strach postupne zmizli. Boli úplne zbytočné.Spoznal som priamočiarych, otvorených ľudí s veľkýmsrdcom, 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 veľkory-sosť arcivojvodov.

Pri pohľade späť cítim radosť a uspokojenie. Dlhé obdo-bie vzájomného spoznávania nakoniec spečatila úcta.Tak ako v priateľstve.

Alan Hyža

At the beginning my work was even harder becauseI started as a total outsider. I was not involved in pro-blems of Catholicism and had only limited ideas aboutthe quotidian of life for monks. My interest and curio-sity was overgrown by fears. Would they allow me,a person from the outside, moreover an alien with a ca-mera, to get close to them? Would it even be possibleto capture their human dimension without any habitualcliché in the way I wanted? All prejudices, barriers andfears gradually disappeared. They were completelyunnecessary. I met direct, open people with a bigheart, good people but not at all naive. Their life, workand thinking are clear, sincere and simple – like waterand bread. And belief provides them with added di-mension and the generosity of archdukes.

Looking back I feel joy and satisfaction. The long periodof time of mutual acquaintance was finally sealed withrespect, and likewise, friendship.

Alan Hyza

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T O N O Z VA N Ý Ž U L A

Dvakrát dusená sliepka. Myslím na ňu, kým sa brodím čer-venkastým bahnom. Trojitá protišmyková úprava pod-rážok, ktorú vymysleli európske mozgy, definitívnezlyhala. Tropický lejak, džungľa, vedľa prudko stúpa-júca hladina rieky Zamora, prítoku Amazonky. Eštevždy som na tom lepšie ako tá sliepka, utešujem sa.Sestra Rosy Shakaimovej akoby si na nej vyliala zlosťza to, že ju opustil manžel a odsťahoval sa k susede.Zúrivo jej stláčala krk pár minút, povolila, a keď sa tonešťastné stvorenie nadýchlo, znova zatlačila. Potomprišiel Tono, vzal mačetu a odsekol jej hlavu, čo v ro-dine Shakaimovcov vyvolalo nadšenie. Nikdy im ne-zišlo na um, že by sa sliepka dala zahlušiť aj takto,a hneď ju dali dusiť druhýkrát, tentoraz do hrnca. Na-koniec, Tono je tu nato. Aby predvádzal, ukazoval, po-učoval, vzdelával a teraz podával ruku aj mne, nechnavždy nezmiznem v najbližšom víre bahna. Chlapecz Oravy, bývalý veterinár, neskôr vysvätený kňaz, dnesmisionár medzi domorodými Šuarmi na juhu Ekvá-doru. Tono Odrobiňák. Vravel, že sa treba modliť, žePán vyslyší naše prosby. Asi tak urobil aj za nás, lebočoskoro v rieke čosi zavrčalo. Čln z plechu. Musel pri-stáť pri brehu, lebo sa začal potápať, naberal vodu zovšetkých strán, ale motor mu slúžil. Čln! Odvezú nás!Vďaka ti, Bože! Prvý deň v Amazónii máme za sebou.

Campanak Entsa, tak sa volala prvá šuarská osada. Má ajsvojho 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 tuvzali? Prinesie ich Tono, práve to sľúbil. Ten sa však užženie k chlapčekovi, čo si pri jedinej rúre s vodouumýva zuby, ibaže nevie, ako na to. Tono si ich tedaumýva spolu s ním, aby poslúžil ako názorná ukážka.

T O N O A L S O K N O W N

A S G R A N I T E

Twice-treated chicken. I am thinking of it while ploughingmy way out of the reddish mud. Triple antiskid treat-ment of soles, designed by European brains, finally fai-led. Tropical heavy shower, jungle, and close to it thefast rising water level of the Zamora River, a tributary ofthe Amazon. I am still better off than that chicken, com-forting myself. Sister of Rosa Shakaim acting as if shewas venting her wrath on that chicken because her hus-band abandoned her and moved in with his neighbour.She, in a rage, squeezed the chicken’s neck for a fewminutes, loosened, and when that unhappy creaturetook breath, she squeezed again. Later Tono arrived,took his machete and cut off chicken’s head, and thatact produced a burst of enthusiasm from the entire Sha-kaim family. They would never ever think of a chickenkilled that way and immediately they started with its se-cond treatment, stewing in a pot. Finally, this is Tono’sjob. In order to demonstrate, show, educate, instructand now shake my hand, not to disappear forever in thenext whirlpool of mud. A boy from Orava, a former vete-rinary surgeon, later ordained priest, today missionaryamong native Shuars in southern Ecuador – Tono Odro-binak. He said, that it’s necessary to pray, that the Lordwill listen to our prayers. Probably he had done that alsofor us, shortly after we heard a sound from the river –a tin boat. It needed to land on the bank, because it wasstarting to sink, filled with water on all sides, but the en-gine still working. A boat! They will take us away! ThankGod! The first day in Amazonia we have spent.

Campanak Entsa, that’s the name of the first Shuar settle-ment. They have their own boss, Jorge, but he wasnot prepared to talk. Inflamed swollen cheek, headcovered by an anorak. Antibiotics can treat that withintwo days, but how to get them here? Tono will bringthem, as he promised. Now he is rushing to a smallboy, who at the only pipe with water is brushing histeeth, but he does not know how to do it. So Tonodoes it together with him in order to demonstrate.

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Medzičasom sa roznieslo, že sme v osade a všetkydeti si vzali do rúk kefky, dokonca aj tie, čo boli právev škole.

Škola. My si školu predstavujeme inak. Táto je zhlobenáz dosiek, malý glóbus, tabuľa, fixky, ktoré nepíšu,jeden učiteľ na deti v rôznom veku, Gregorio Chup. Mátridsaťosem rokov a ešte pamätá časy, keď sem cho-dieval Tonov predchodca, misionár Ján Šutka. Vďakanemu šiel Gregorio na lýceum pri saleziánskej misiiv Bomboize, vyštudoval, učí a sníva o Madride, kde bysa chcel živiť vyučovaním španielčiny. Nemáte tosrdce povedať mu, že je to nesplniteľný sen a čoskorosa zasa Tonovi bojíte povedať, že ste nikdy nevidelichudobnejší kostol. Stojí opodiaľ školy, aj on je posta-vený z drevených lát, svätostánok z umelej hmoty, nadním hviezdičky zo staniolu… Evanjelium v džungli.

„Nemám rád okázalosť európskej cirkvi, Ježiš predsahlásal chudobu,“ povie a dá sa prekladať slová, čo nadprovizórnym oltárom zostali od Vianoc. „Veľkodušnosť,dobrota, nádej, život, láska, radosť, to sú hodnoty,ktoré si musíme vážiť! A Ježiš chcel, aby sme jehoslová hlásali ďalej, aby sa evanjelium šírilo aj do týchnajzapadnutejších kútov sveta.“ Campanak entsaspĺňa túto predstavu dokonale. Darmo má Felix, bý-valý kaplán, na roztrhanom tričku nápis: „Gentenueva, buena gente! Vota listas izquierda democra-tica!“ Noví ľudia, dobrí ľudia, pripravení voliť demokra-ciu. Tonovo tričko nesie lepšie posolstvo, je na ňomzobrazený Ježiš na kríži…

Eva Narcisa má dvadsaťtri, Alan Alberto dvadsaťdvarokov. Pred dvoma mesiacmi sa im narodil Henry Ju-lian, Eva Narcisa ho porodila sama doma. Teraz hodojčí, sediac v blate a Alan Alberto švihá okolo dieťaťamačetou, 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. Snívajúo ceste do Quita, do hlavného mesta svojej krajiny.

Meanwhile the news disseminated that we are inthe settlement and all the children took tooth brushes,even the children at school.

School. We think of school differently. This one is madeof 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 remembersthe times of Tono’s predecessor – missionary JanSutka. Thanks to him Gregorio continued his educationat the lyceum at the Salesian mission in Bomboiza. Hegraduated, learns and dreams of Madrid, where hewould like to make his living teaching Spanish. Wedon’t have the heart to tell him that his dream willnever come true and in a short time you will again beafraid to tell Tono that you have never seen a morepoor 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 indeedpreached poverty,” he said, and started to translate thewords left above the temporary altar from Christmas.“Magnanimity, goodness, hope, life, love, joy – theseare the values we must respect! And Jesus wantedthat we preach his words in order to bring the evangelto the most remote regions of the world.” CampanakEntsa complies with that perfectly. Felix, former cha-plain, in vain, has on his torn T-shirt the text: “Gentenueva, buena gente! Vota listas izquierda democra-tica!” New people, good people, who are prepared tovote for democracy. Tono’s T-shirt presents a bettermessage – a Jesus on the cross…

Eva Narcisa is 23 and Alan Alberto 22 years old. Twomonths ago their son Henry Julian was born. Eva Nar -cisa gave birth to him alone, at home. Now she is nur-sing him sitting in mud and Alan Alberto is swishing hismachete around the child, to entertain the child insome way. Not far in a small house lives the Shakaimfamily. They sell fruit, yucca. When their daughter stu-dying at the missionary school needs money, theywork more, when she does not need, they work less.As much as is really necessary in order not to dieof starvation. They dream of a journey to Quito – theca-pital of their country.

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Šli by pracovať aj do Spojených štátov, lenže nemajúpeniaze ani na cestu a ich nedostatok nijako nespá-jajú s množstvom svojej vynaloženej práce. Keď sa imnaposledy podarilo zarobiť niečo navyše, kúpili si tele-vízor a hudobnú aparatúru, čo tu teraz vyrevúva akozbor ožranov. Adriano chodieva na poľovačky, videl ajjaguára, ale nanešťastie zistil, že si doma zabudol ná-boje. Ako by mu teda mohlo prísť na um, že sliepkemožno mačetou odťať hlavu namiesto nekonečnéhohrdúsenia? Surovú tú hlavu však vyhladovaným psomhodiť neslobodno! Žiadna precitlivenosť, nesmú zistiť,že živú sliepku možno zožrať. „Disciplina, puntualidad,orden!“ hlása nápis nad ich jediným dreveným stolomz dosák a človek má zrazu pocit, že na tom kríži jevlastne Tono.

Banánová polievka, banánové čipsy, fazuľa s vajcom, čer-stvý kravský syr, čerstvé banány. Večera v misii v Bom-boize. Koľko ton banánov tu museli zjesť od roku1951, keď Taliani založili túto misijnú stanicu? Ghineo,banán, aký poznáme my, a platano, banán, ktorý nie jeovocie, ale druh zeleniny. Don Natale sa v tom vyzná,tento Talian tu prežil celé desaťročia. Padre Anton sizvyká druhý rok. Majú tu farmu, internáty, školy.Strednú na spôsob nášho osemročného gymnázia,vyšší pedagogický inštitút pre šuarských učiteľov, diaľ-kovú univerzitu. Presne v duchu dona Bosca, venujmesa mládeži a vzdelaniu, saleziáni vychovávajú budú-cich učiteľov. V internátoch žije takmer poldruhastovky zväčša šuarských detí, oni sú na tom najhoršie,im teda pomáhajú najviac. Kolóni a Šuari sa totiž veľmiradi nemajú. Kolóni, alebo „colones“, ak chcete, sú tí,v génoch ktorých sa nájdu pozostatky nejakého Špa-niela. Keď kolonizovali túto zem, do džungle, k Šua-rom, sa nedostali. A tak sa Šuari nemôžu pýšiť anikvapkou španielskej krvi, čo ich v očiach Kolónov zne-výhodňuje… Trinásť miliónov Kolónov na štyridsaťtisícŠuarov.

They would travel for work even to the United Statesof America, but they even do not have the moneyfor travelling and they do not relate the lack of moneywith the amount of work they do. The last time theyhave succeeded to make extra money they purchaseda TV and hi-fi, now both roaring like a group of drun-kards. Adriano goes hunting. He had seen a jaguar,but unfortunately he found out that he forgot his am-munition at home. How should he think of cuttingthe head of that chicken using a machete insteadof the never-ending choking? But you would never beallowed to throw the raw head to hungry dogs! No hy-persensitiveness, they must not find out that they caneat a chicken alive. “Disciplina, puntualidad, orden!”reads the text above their only one wooden tablemade of slats and suddenly you can have the feelingthat actually Tono is on that cross.

Banana soup, banana chips, beans with egg, fresh cawcheese and bananas – dinner at the mission in Bom-boiza. How many tons of bananas they have consu-med since 1951, when Italians established thismissionary station? Ghineo, banana, as we know it,and platano – a banana that is not a banana, buta certain type of vegetable. Don Natale is an expert,this Italian spent several decades here. Padre Anton isgetting used to it for the second year. They have herea farm, dormitories and schools. A secondary schoollike our eight-year gymnasium, higher institute of pe-dagogy for Shuar teachers and an external university.Exactly in the spirit of don Bosco, dealing with youthand education, Salesians educate future teachers.In dormitories, they live close to a hundred and fiftymainly Shuar children. Their situation is the worst, sothey need the most help. Colones and Shuars theydon’t like each other much. Colones have in the genessomething from the Spaniards. When the Spaniardscolonized this area, they did not reach the jungle, northe Shuars. So Shuars cannot boast of even one dropof Spanish blood and for Colones this represents a di-sadvantage … Thirteen million Colones compared toforty thousand Shuars.

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Kolóni sa vždy cítili byť na koni, oberali Šuarov o pôdua nebyť otca Šutku, možno by skončili až za peruáns-kou hranicou. Bol to práve on, Slovák, kto medzi nichchodieval a radil im, ako vytvárať z domčekov, rozsy-paných po džungli, centrá podobné dedinám, ako savzdelávať. Tono pokračuje v jeho šľapajach. Keď je namisii, prebudí sa v ňom aj veterinár, dozrie na dobytok,na ošípané, sliepky aj ryby, keď z nej odíde, stáva samisionárom.

Centrum Tiink. Pätnásťročnou toyotou z misie cezkopce, ktoré preveria božskú trpezlivosť. Stierače sapri každom drgnutí dajú do pohybu, drhnú suché sklo,ale Tono vie ako na ne. Vystrčí sa za jazdy z dverí, od-hodí ich od skla dopredu, a tie sa potom vrtia vo vzdu-chu ako tykadlá chrobáka. Vybavené.

Ťažšie sa dá vyriešiť problém starej ženy, ktorú predtroma mesiacmi poštípal hmyz, má nohu čiernu, oba-lenú v handrách, omýva si ju v liečivých bylinkách. „Donemocnice? Nie!“ Ale prečo nie? „Lebo mi ju odrežú!“Ak s ňou nepôjdete do nemocnice, potom vám ju na-koniec určite odrežú. „A preto do nemocnice nepôj-dem!“ Vybavené.

A akoby nešťastia nebolo dosť, „sancudos“ neviditeľnémušky, štípu ako divé a akási žena, čo doteraz ležalav plátennej hojdačke, vstáva, aby sa posťažovala na„sorros“, ktoré opisuje ako obrovské divé potkany, vy-biehajúce z džungle, čo jej kántria sliepky a morsképrasiatka, obľúbené jedlo Ekvádorčanov. Čo príbeh, tohoror. Miestny diakon Antonio Shakai spomína, akomu pred pár rokmi umrela žena. „Jednu noc bolazima. Zakašľala a do dvadsaťštyri hodín bolo po nej,“vraví. Najmladší z jeho šiestich synov, Alisandro, malvtedy dvanásť rokov. Antonio znášal smrť ženy zle, žilispolu dvadsaťdeväť rokov, aj uvažoval, že si vezme ne-jakú inú, ale nakoniec sa naučil variť sladké zemiakya banány sám a stal sa diakonom. „Hľadal som inéhodnoty, pre ktoré sa oplatí žiť,“ vraví. Nedostáva za toani halier, nemôže slúžiť omšu, ani spovedať, jednodu-cho chcel byť užitočný. A jeden z jeho synov sa stal sa-leziánskym kňazom. Kým rozpráva, popod nohy sanám tmolí drobné kuriatko.

Colones always felt like the winner and took land fromShuars and without father Sutka, probably they wouldmove even beyond the Peruvian border. That was him,a Slovak, who visited them and advised them how tocreate, from small houses scattered in the jungle, cen-tres similar to villages and how to educate themselves.Tono continues in the same direction. Being at the mis-sion, he acts also as veterinary surgeon, supervisesthe cattle, pigs, chicken and fish, and when he leaveshe will become a missionary.

Centre Tiink. In a 15-year-old Toyota from the missionover the hills that would test the divine patience. Wipers at every bump start flopping, scratch the drywindscreen, but Tono knows his way. While driving hetwists himself out of the door, moves the wipers awayfrom windscreen and the wipers twist in air like anten-nas 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 hospi-tal? No!” But why not? “They would cut it off!” But ifyou do not go to a hospital, then eventually it will haveto be cut off. “And therefore I would not go to hospital!”Done.

And as if not enough misfortune, ‘sancudos’ (invisibleflies), bite like wild and a woman, until now in a linenswing, gets up, in order to complain about ‘sorros’. Shedescribed them as giant wild rats running from thejungle and slaughtering chickens and guinea pigs, a fa-vourite meal for Ecuadorians. Every story a horror. Thelocal deacon Antonio Shakai mentions how a few yearsago his wife died. “One night it was cold. She coughedand died within twenty four hours,” he said. The youn-gest of his six sons, Alisandro, was 12 years old. Anto-nio couldn’t get over the death of his wife – they havebeen together for 29 years. He thought of marryinganother woman, but eventually he learned how to cooksweet 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 cele-brate a Mass nor confess, he simply wanted to be use-ful. And one of his sons became a Salesian priest. Whilehe talks, below our legs a small chick walks.

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Nebyť Pavla Minarčica, ani my by sme sa o nich nedoz-vedeli. Dokáže vidieť neviditeľné. Je to jeho poslanie.

„Veril som, že sa nám v meste bude dariť lepšie, tak smeodišli z hôr a prišli skúsiť šťastie do Tirany,“ rozprávahlava rodiny Gjoniovcov. Učiteľ matematiky a fyziky.Usadil nás na malé stoličky pred stan, priniesol fľaškuvínovice, čo si bol sám vypálil. S Pavlom sa pozná uždlho, a tak ochotne vysvetľuje, že hoci sa načiernopáliť nesmie, robia to všetci. Keby mu na to aj prišli,stačí úplatok a na všetko sa zabudne. Úplatok dokážezázraky! Radšej úplatok ako socializmus Envera Hodžu.Spomína na časy, keď nesmel vlastniť ani sliepku anisviňu, veď keby on sliepku mal a sused nie, neboli bysi rovní… Spomína na kontrolórov, čo chodili z domudo domu a presviedčali sa, či tento zákon niekto nepo-rušuje. A zrazu sa všetko zmenilo, mohol vlastniť nie-len 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, čibol Hodža blázon. „Aj socializmus mal svoje výhody,“povie. „Teraz sa cítim akoby ma hodili do mora a pove-dali mi – plávaj! Ale kam a ako?“ V škole dlho praco-vať 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, alenedarí sa mu. Manželka robí upratovačku. „Znášam tos pokojom Angličana,“ odpovie na otázku, ako sa dátakto žiť. „Albánsko je kvapka v mori, prejde ešte veľačasu, kým z neho bude normálna krajina,“ dodáva.„Ale podarí sa to. Veď aj zo mňa, z profesora matema-tiky, sa stal poľnohospodár. Kúpil som si tento poze-mok, postavil kúpeľňu vedľa stanu a teraz čakám nanový dom, pomoc od katolíckeho Charitasu. Lebo štátsa o nás chudobných nestará. Som v poradovníku,“dodá. Poradovník na šťastie je však veľmi dlhý. A šťas-tie tu má veľa podôb.

Without Pavol Minarcic, we wouldn’t even know aboutthem. He can see what is invisible. It is his mission.

“I believed that it would be better in a town, so we leftthe mountains and came to try our luck in Tirana,” saysthe head of Gjoni family. Teacher of mathematics andphysics. He offered us seats on small chairs in frontof the tent and brought out a bottle of brandy, which hemade himself. He has known Pavol for a long time, andso he explains with goodwill that legally you must notdistil, but everybody does. If they ever find out, a bribewould suffice and everything would be forgotten.A bribe can do wonders! Better bribes than the socia-lism of Enver Hodja. He recalls the times when he wasnot allowed to own even one chicken nor a pig in casehe would have one and his neighbour not, they wouldbe not equal… He recalls the controllers, who wentfrom to house and checked if somebody was in breachof that Act. Then, all at once, everything changed andhe could own not only a chicken, but also a factory.Many people got lost at that time, as they were notjacks of all trades. Many came from the mountains intotown in order to try their luck, just like him. But onlya few of them were lucky… But he would turn red fromanger when I have asked if Hodja was a fool. “Also so-cialism had its advantages,” he says. “Now I feel asif they would throw me into sea and tell me – swim! Butwhere and how?” He was unable to work at school fora long time. “Children are too impertinent, too inquisi-tive, and after the heart attack, I did not return towork,” he says. He has three children, one son hairdres-ser, daughter studying, the other son tried to find illegalwork in Greece, but he was not successful. The wifeworks as a cleaning lady. “I take it easy like an Engli-shman,” he replies when asked how he could live likethat. “Albania is like a drop in the sea, a lot of time willpass 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 amwaiting 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 forluck is very long. And luck has here many forms.

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Pre profesora Sandriho je to možno dôchodok. Zatvorili hona sedem rokov, len preto, že jeho otec bol dôstojníka nechcel vstúpiť do komunistickej strany. Sedemrokov odrobil v bani v horách. Jeden jeho strýko dostalsedemnásť rokov, ďalší tridsaťjeden rokov. Pamätá saaj na kráľa Zogu. „Bol poriadok, ctil si ľudský život,a súkromné vlastníctvo bolo chránené.“ vraví. Lenžekráľ cez vojnu z Albánska ušiel pred Mussolinim aj sosvojou manželkou, ktorá pochádzala od Nitry. Geraldí -na Apponyiová z Oponíc. Pred Mussolinim utekala z Al-bánska na mercedese, ktorý dostala od Hitlera. Akézvláštne dokážu byť dejiny. Kráľovský pár potom minulveľkú časť zlatého pokladu krajiny na prenajatie celéhoposchodia v londýnskom hoteli Ritz. Keď sa po roku1989, po tom, čo sa skončila Hodžova éra, vrátil kráľovpotomok 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 al-bánske peniaze zmeniť ešte aj v Taliansku. Vyvážalitabak, cigarety, obchodovali s Kosovom, aj s ČiernouHorou. Prišla vojna, Mussolini, ten aspoň vybudovalcesty a postavil pár pekných budov v Tirane. Po ňomkrajinu obsadili Nemci. Vojna sa skončila, mali sa staťsiedmou federatívnou republikou Juhoslávie. To ne-chceli, tak sa skamarátili s Rusmi. V šesťdesiatomroku však chcel Chruščov začať budovať ponorkovúzákladňu v meste Vlora, to sa im nepáčilo, tak saspriahli s Čínou. Lenže to im zas prinieslo kultúrnu re-volúciu na Mao Ce Tungov spôsob, úradníkov povyhá-ňali na dediny, akékoľvek náboženstvo oficiálnezakázali. Albánsko sa stalo jedinou ateistickou kraji-nou na svete. A ďalšia katastrofa prišla po tom, čoRusi obsadili Československo v roku 1968. EnverHodža vystúpil z Varšavskej zmluvy a zatúžil po samo-statnosti v obranyschopnosti krajiny!

It perhaps represents for Professor Sandri a pension. Hewas in jail for seven years, only because his fatherwas an officer and refused to become a memberof the Communist party. For seven years he worked inmines in the mountains. One of his uncles was in jailfor 17 years, another one for 31 years. He remembersalso King Zog. “Order ruled, he respected human life,and private ownership was protected,” he says. Butthe king during the war escaped from Albania aheadof Mussolini. Zog’s wife, who also escaped at thattime, came from around Nitra. Geraldina Apponyi fromOponice. She escaped from Albania on a Mercedeswhich she had received from Hitler. How peculiar his-tory can be. The royal couple then spent a large partof the golden treasure they had hoarded in order tolease an entire floor in the London Ritz hotel. Whenafter 1989 and the end of Hodja’s era, a descendantof the royal family returned to Albania, but they did notwant him.

It’s also perhaps also Mr. Gjoni’s best time during hispension. With the aforementioned Mr. Gjoni he has not-hing in common, only his name. He remembers thatduring the royal era it was possible to exchange Alba-nian currency even in Italy. They have exported to-bacco and cigarettes, they traded with Kosovo as wellas Montenegro. When war started, Mussolini, at leastconstructed roads and a few beautiful buildings in Ti-rana. After him the country was occupied by Germans.When the war ended they were to become the seventhfederative republic of Yugoslavia. They did not want ittherefore they became friends with the Russians. Butin 1960 Khrushchev started to build a submarine basein the town of Vlora. They didn’t like it and thereforethey united with China. But that relation brought themCultural Revolution of the Mao Tse Tung variety … theyhave sent clerks to villages, and officially prohibited allreligions. Albania became the only officially atheistcountry in the world. And the next catastrophe happe-ned when the Russians occupied Czecho-Slovakia in1968. Enver Hodja withdrew from the Warsaw Pactand wanted independence in the country’s defence!

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Z B I E D Y D O C H U D O B Y

Tak to je teda sila, povedal Štefan Margeťák, keď sa veľkýboeing odlepil od zeme a zmizol v oblakoch. Práve savydal na svoj prvý let v živote, a to hneď transkontinen-tálny. „Tak to je teda sila,“ povedal druhýkrát, keď salietadlo blížilo k New Yorku a z podvečerného šera savynorili obrysy rozsvieteného Manhattanu. Nasledujú -ce ráno zmizol v útrobách ďalšieho veľkého strojaa o štyri hodiny neskôr vystúpil v Port au Prince, hlav-nom meste Haiti. Keď v Európe nasadal do lietadla,bola snehová víchrica, v Karibiku ho vítalo 42 stupňovCelzia. „Tak to je teda sila,“ povedal Štefan tretí a po-sledný raz. K ničomu z toho, čo zažil v najbližšíchdňoch, sa už tento nadšený komentár nehodil.

Bohatstvo spočíva v chudobe. Túto myšlienku už Štefan po -čul, keď sa pár mesiacov pred odletom na Haiti stretolna Slovensku s Augustínom Vreckom. Štefan pochá-dza z Oravy, je sirota, jedna z jeho sestier je rehoľníč -ka. Asi to tak malo byť, že sa títo dvaja muži stretli.Neváhal a prijal ponuku vybrať sa na tri mesia ce po-máhať Augustínovi v jeho diele. Páčila sa mu myš lien -ka, že aj on môže dakomu pomôcť, že bude užitočný.Mal o tom svoje predstavy, ale asi iné než to, čo ho ví-talo na Haiti. Radšej mlčal, kým spoznával hlavnémesto Port au Prince. Architektúra, ktorú tu po sebezanechali Francúzi, zostala v troskách, tým dominujejediný dokonale zrekonštruovaný objekt, prezidentskýpalác. Čím ďalej od neho, tým horšie. Honosný názovBoulevard des Americas je len pozlát ka, tobogan,ktorý človeka strhne do štvrte Cité de Soleil. Slumy,smradľavá stoka, kopy špiny, bieda, akú dvadsaťštyri-ročný chlapec z Oravy nikdy nevidel a nedokázal si juani len predstaviť. Bola to jeho prvá misia, na ktorú sapodujal ako dobrovoľník. Je stavbár, vie murovať.V ruksaku si priviezol vlastnú kelňu. Najradšej by jubol hneď vybral, ale prvé tri dni iba posedával a čakal.

F R O M M I S E R Y T O P O V E R T Y

What a power, stated Stefan Margetak, when the giant Boeing left earth and disappeared into the clouds. Healready started his first flight in life, and even a trans-continental one. “What a power,” he said for the se-cond time when the airplane approached New Yorkand from the twilight emerged contours of lighted Man-hattan. The next morning he disappeared inside anot-her giant machine and four hours later disembarkedin Port au Prince, the capital of Haiti. When he boardedthe airplane in Europe there was a blizzard accompa-nied by thunder, whereas, in the Caribbean he wasgreeted with 42 degrees Celsius. “What a power,” saidStefan for the third and last time. For what he wasabout to experience in the days ahead, this enthusias-tic commentary was no longer appropriate.

Wealth is based in poverty. Stefan already heard that ideawhen he, several months before his departure forHaiti, met Augustin Vrecko in Slovakia. Stefan comesfrom Orava, he is an orphan, and one of his sisters isa nun. Probably it was meant to happen that thesetwo men meet. He did not hesitate and decided to ac-cept the offer to help Augustin for three months in hiswork. He liked the idea that he can help somebody,that he would be useful. He had own imagination, butprobably different compared to the actual Haitian ex-perience. He preferred to stay silent when visitingthe capital Port au Prince. Architecture, left behindby the French, remained in ruins, dominated by a per-fectly reconstructed facility, the presidential palace.The more you go away from the palace, the worse.Proud name Boulevard des Americas. It’s only giltslide, pushing man to the district of Cité de Soleil.Slums, stinking sewers, piles of dirt – povertythe likes of which a 24-year-old youth from Orava hadnever seen and could hardly imagine. This was hisfirst mission, he joined as a volunteer. He is a con-struction worker, he can lay bricks. In his backpackhe has his own trowel. He would love to use it imme-diately, but the first three days he was only sitting andwaiting.

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Na nákladniak, ktorému sa pokazili brzdy a odpoveďna otázku, kedy ho konečne opravia, bola vo hviez-dach. Na auto, ktoré mal Augustín kúpiť, aby sa vôbecdostali do dedinky Aquamithe, kde mal pôsobiť. S ver-vou vyložil veci z dreveného skladu na dvore salezián-skej školy a potom pri nich nečinne posedával.Pozeral sa na všetky tie veci, ktoré v kontajneri priplá-vali z Európy. Veci, čo nakúpil Augustín alebo ich zoz-bieral od ľudí, ktorí chceli Haiťanom nejako pomôcť.Bolo tam všetko! Kovové domce poskladané v škatu-liach, 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 se-dával? Kde? Pri krbe? Mal v ústach fajku? Popíjalčaj? Alebo koňak? Kedy to bolo? Každá z týchto vecímala svoju históriu. Ale kto by sa dokázal na ne nečin -ne pozerať tri dni? Štefan nerozumel, nechápal, doko -la opakoval, že on prišiel murovať a nie posedávať.

„Toto je Haiti, Štefan,“ opakoval mu Augustín. „Toto nie jeSlovensko ani Belgicko, tu všetko trvá dlhšie.“ Lenže,ako dlho?

Akú hodnotu má čas v krajine, o ktorej vravia, že je naj-biednejšia na celej západnej pologuli? My mámeo chudobe celkom iné predstavy. Aj o Karibiku. Čarov -né pláže, biely piesok, blankytné more, palma ohýba-júca sa v sviežom vetre. V Port au Prince by takútofotografiu neurobil ani ten najlepší fotograf. More jesmetisko. Kým sa k nemu dostanete, musíte prejsťhorou odpadkov a nevšímať si nevraživé pohľady život-ných stroskotancov, čo tu trávia celé dni. Stratili pred-stavu o čase aj o zmysle života. Posedávajú pri hnedejpáchnucej vode, v ktorej sa kúpe zopár nahých chla-pov, mdlo sa pozerajú na postavičky skrútené priamona pláži do pózy, ktorá nevyvolávala pochybnostio tom, čo práve robia. Najchudobnejšia a najzaostalej-šia krajina západnej pologule, to je Haiti. So šialenýmicenami, ktoré vyvoláva nedostatok všetkého.

For a truck, with broken brakes and the answer whenfinally it would be repaired, was on the feet ofthe gods. Waiting for a car which Augustin should buyin order to even get to the small village of Aquamithe,where he is supposed to work. With enthusiasm hebrought his items from a wooden depot on the backy-ard of the Salesian school and he was sitting withoutany activity. He was watching all the items which ina container arrived from Europe. Items purchased byAugustin or collected from people who wanted to helpin certain way people in Haiti. Everything was there!Metal houses folded in boxes, which Stefan shouldlater assemble – books, toys, but also old sandals.Chromium-treated chairs, compotes, sweaters. And anold French sofa in the style of Louis XVI, and he couldnot imagine its use. Who has used it? Where? Closeto the fireplace? With a pipe in mouth? Drinking tea?Or cognac? And when was that? Each of the itemshad its own history. But who could manage looking atthem without any activity during three days? Stefandid not understand, he repeated again and again thathe came to lay bricks and not to sit and wait.

“This is Haiti, Stefan,” repeated for him Augustin. “Thisis not Slovakia nor Belgium, here everything takes lon-ger.” But how long?

What is the value of time in a country about which theysay that is the poorest country of the entire westernhemisphere? We have completely different ideasabout poverty. Also about the Caribbean, too. Wonder-ful beaches, white sand, blue sea, a palm movingin the fresh breeze. In Port au Prince such a pictureeven the best photographer could not manage. Seaas waste deposit. Until you reach the sea, you have topass mountains of waste and not think about the hos-tile looks from the shipwrecked persons, who spendentire days here. They have lost any notion of time aswell as of a sense of life. They sit close to brown stin-king water, in which a few naked men swim, the fain-test glance at them twisting right there on the beachinto a position that left no doubt as to that what theyare doing. The most poor and lagging behind countryof the western hemisphere – Haiti. With crazy pricescausing a shortage of everything.

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T R O P PA G R A T I A

S A N A N T O N I O

Svokrine jazyky? Ida Buzzo ich má vo svojej záhrade v se-vernej Austrálii celý záhon a darí sa im skvele. Narástličosi vyše metra, priamo prekvitajú. „Tak sa tie rastlinyu vás volajú?“ spýta sa a trpko sa zasmeje. „Výstižné!“dodá už bez úsmevu. Kým však porozpráva svoj prí-beh, prejde celý deň, a to mali spomienky čas vybled-núť už celých štyridsaťpäť rokov! Vtedy sa jej manželRino vybral do Austrálie za prácou a ona zostala v Ta-liansku, pri Benátkach. So svokrou. „Svokrine jazyky!Výstižný názov, veľmi výstižný!“ povie. Neodchádzalosa jej za mužom do Austrálie ľahko, ale svokrin jazykjej rozhodnutie spečatil. Lenže ani tento kontinent ne -bol dosť ďaleko, aby sa ho navždy zbavila. „Uskromňo-vali sme sa, aby sme mohli podporovať manželovumatku a jeho sestru. Vždy sme si povedali, že bezpráčky sa ešte chvíľu zaobídeme, že umývačku riaduzasa až tak nepotrebujeme. Keď sme ich po čase pod-porovať prestali, bolo ešte horšie,“ dodá. A potom po -vie, že v Európe bola pred dvadsiatimi rokmi a viac sado Talianska nechystá.

„S rodinou sa stretnúť nechcem. A pre všetkých ostat-ných som cudzia žena. Pozerajú sa na mňa a spytujúsa, kto to je a čo tu chce. Taliansko sa celkom zmeni -lo, už tam nepatrím. Ale priviezla som si odtiaľ od šva-grinej recept na tiramisu, nedáte si?“ V tej chvíli sa jejrozžiaria oči a už aj diktuje svoj recept. „Päť žĺtkov,osem polievkových lyžíc cukru, dobre vymiešame, pri-dáme syr mascarpone, potom piškóty. Na krém trebapohár veľmi silnej kávy, do ktorej nalejeme pohár bie-leho vína. A keďže v Austrálii talianske amaretto ne-majú, ja do neho pridávam trochu whisky, trochubrandy, trochu cinzana a trochu rumu.“ Päťkrát so svo-jím tiramisu vyhrala súťaž o najlepší múčnik, ale ani jejnezíde na um, aby si kúsok dala. Pri tej predstave juaž zatrasie. Všetkého veľa škodí…

T R O P PA G R A T I A

S A N A N T O N I O

Sansevieria? Ida Buzzo has them in her garden in northernAustralia – a complete flower bed and they grow won-derfully. They have grown more than one meter, theyprosper. “You call these flowers in the country of yourmother-in-law tongue?” she asks, and bitterly laughs.“Appropriate!” she adds, but without a smile. But beforeshe tells her story, the entire day would pass, and hermemories had time to fade for a full 45 years! At thattime her husband Rino left for Australia for work andshe remained in Italy, near Venice. With her mother-in-law. “Tongue of mother- in-law! An appropriate name,very appropriate!” she says. It was not easy for her tofollow her husband in Australia, but the tongue of mot-her-in-law finalised her decision. But even this continentwas not far enough away, to be gone forever. “We livedsparingly, in order to support the mother of my husbandand his sister. We have always told ourselves that wecan survive for a while without the washing machine,that we do not need so badly the dishwasher. Whenafter a certain period of time we ceased to supportthem, it became even worse,” she adds. And later shewould say that she was in Europe twenty years ago andshe would not travel again to Italy.

“I do not want to meet my family. And for the others I ama foreign woman. They watch me and ask who it is andwhat she wants here. Italy changed completely, I do notbelong there. But I brought from there, from my sister-in-law, a recipe for tiramisu, would you like to have it?”In that moment her eyes radiate and immediately shestarts to dictate the recipe. “Five egg yolks, eight spo-ons of sugar, mix well, add mascarpone cheese, thenlady fingers. For cream you need one cup of very strongcoffee, add one glass of white wine. And as in Australiathey do not have Italian amaretto, I add a little bit of whi-sky, little bit of brandy, little bit of Cinzano and little bitof rum.” Five times she won with her tiramisu the com-petition for the best cake, but she would not even thinkof eating a small piece. With that imagination she evenstarts 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 toma nenaučili, poznala som iný obraz. Môj muž sedí zastolom, vedľa neho svokra, ja všetkých obsluhujem,starám sa o deti a popritom sa učím angličtinu, slovopo slove. Nikdy som sa ju nenaučila poriadne!“

„Nóubády lóvs mí,“ zatiahne so silným talianskym prízvu-kom, keď zistí, že nemá na odkazovači žiaden odkaz.„ÓK!“ Dnes žije sama v mestečku Katherine na severeAustrálie, občas k nej zájde syn Roberto. Nezávislá,hrdá Austrálčanka s talianskou krvou. S najmenšímpsom, akého si viete predstaviť, s Princeznou, ktorá sanechá pohladkať od všetkých, len nie od nej. A so zá-honom svokriných jazykov v záhrade.

Melbourne, južná Austrália. Mišo Kolek rozpráva, akoby mu zato platili. Najskôr o herečke Nicole Kidmanovej, o tom,že kvôli kríze predala vilu iba za polovicu jej ce ny, čižeza trinásť miliónov austrálskych dolárov, ale že padli ibaceny drahých víl, tie bežné, za milión či poldruha miliónana hodnote nestrácajú, a to je dobre. Zrazu už rozprávao vojne v Juhoslávii, o tom, ako sa bili Srbi s Chorvátmiešte aj v Austrálii, kým nezasiahla polícia. Dodá, že jehoto nezaujíma, lebo on je Slovák z Vojvodiny, z dediny Se-lenče. Prišiel, keď mal dvadsaťjeden rokov, dnes mátridsaťosem, a že na Európu kašle.

Kapry sú premnožené, priviezli ich z Európy, ničia brehy riek,smrdia blatom a nikto ich neje. Aj kengury sú premno-žené, dlhé roky ich chránili a teraz sa celé stáda vrha -jú na polia. Koala? Premnožená! Pritom tieto zvieratámajú nádhernú kožušinu. Lenže ochranári radšej uva-žujú o tom, ako ich sterilizovať. No a králiky? Úplná ka-tastrofa, dajú sa kúpiť aj v mäsiarstve, lenže na obedtreba až štyroch, ak sa má rodina najesť. To sa už zho-várame s Mikulášom Rusnákom.

She serves her guests. She puts on plates, removesthe plates. In case you would try to help her she wouldbe surprised. “I have not learned that, I knew a diffe-rent picture. My husband sitting at the table, close tohim my mother-in-law, I serve for all of them, carefor children and along with that I learn the English lan-guage, word after word. I never learnt it properly!”

“Nobody loves me,” she says with a strong Italian accentwhen she discovers there is no message on her answering machine. “OK!” Today she lives alone ina small town of Katherine in north of Australia, andfrom time to time her son Roberto visits her. An inde-pendent, proud Australian with Italian blood. Withthe smallest dog you can imagine – Princess, every-body can stroke her except her lady. And with a bedof Sansevieria in her garden.

Melbourne. Miso Kolek talks as if he was being paid for it.Firstly about the actress Nicole Kidman, that becauseof the crises she sold her villa at half price, that means13 million Australian dollars, but only prices of the ex-pensive villas were reduced, the usual villas, for a mil-lion or one and half million did not lose their value, andthat’s good. Immediately he talks about war in Yugosla-via, about the Serbs fighting with Croatians even in Au-stralia, until the arrival of the police. He adds that he isnot interested, because he is a Slovak from the autono-mous region Vojvodina in Serbia, from the village of Se-lenče. He arrived when he was 21, today he is 38, andhe does not care about Europe.

Carp are far too plentiful. Imported from Europe, they des-troy river banks, stink and nobody eats them. Alsokangaroos are too plentiful, for many years they wereprotected and now complete herds attack fields.Koala? Far too many! And these animals have a beau-tiful fur. But protectionists think instead about how tosterilize them. And what about rabbits? Complete ca-tastrophe, you can buy them also from butcher, but forone lunch you would need three or four for the entirefamily. Now we are talking with Mikulas Rusnak.

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Keď večer sedíme spolu za stolom v ich dome, rozhovorpokračuje témou o nedostatku vody. Podzemnej jemálo, a aj tá, čo je, je zväčša slaná. V Austrálii teda vy-užívajú najmä povrchovú, dažďovú. Štát dáva subven-cie na práčky, čo míňajú menej vody, tretinu ažpolovicu ich ceny. Ak chcete tank na dažďovú vodu dodomácnosti, 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 vodalacnejšia než na Slovensku,“ dodá Mikuláš Rusnák.

Jeho manželka pracuje na operačnej sále. Rozprávao čínskych zdravotných sestrách, čo prišli a ktoréo tom, čo je sterilita, asi nikdy ani nepočuli. Lenže, se-stier je málo…

Manželia Rusnákovci žijú v Austrálii už dvadsaťsedemrokov. Vychovali dve deti, zo Slovenska odchádzalipreto, aby sa práve ony mali raz lepšie. Ich syn žijev Tasmánii, má dve deti, oni dve vnúčence, čo neradyrozprávajú po slovensky. Nový domov, nová reč. An-gličtina. Ich dcéra žila dva roky na Slovensku. Krajina,odkiaľ pochádza, sa jej páčila. Znova ju našla.

Adelaide, južná Austrália, hodina letu z Melbourne. MarinoBonnini nevie čítať ani písať, ale čo do štedrosti asi ne -má páru. Nepozná slová „Ďakujem, neprosím si!“, iba –„Musíš!“ A grapa je predsa talianska špecialita, ktorúodmietnuť nemožno. Josephine, Teresa, Pellegrino,zišla sa celá rodina, teraz sa prekrikujú ako v talian-skom filme, hoci aj oni žijú na tomto kontinente už tak-mer pol storočie. „Musíš!“ kričí Marino a podáva raztanier so sušienkami, potom pohárik s grapou. Austrál-skej krvi by sa v ňom nikto nedorezal. Zostal Talianom.

„Keď sme sem v roku 1968 prišli a zostali stáť na tejto čer-venej zemi, môj manžel povedal – Eva, ja do tej špinytie kufre nikdy nepoložím!

When we are sitting together at the table in the eveningin their house, the discussion continues aboutthe theme of the water shortage. Limited under-ground water and even what is available is mostlysalty water. In Australia, they are using mainly the sur-face, rain water. The state provides subsidies for was-hing machines that consume less water, one third upto half of their price. If you would like to have a tankfor rain water for your household, the state will contri-bute up to two thousand Australian dollars. Solarenergy? If you can manage to produce more than youneed, the state will purchase it from you for a pricefour times higher than the price of energy sold to you.“Nonetheless, water in Australia is cheaper than inSlovakia,” adds Mikulas Rusnak.

His wife works at an operating theatre. She talks aboutChinese nurses who arrived and who probably neverheard about sterility. But there is a shortage of nurses…

As man and wife the Rusnaks have lived in Australia for27 years already and have raised two children. Theyleft Slovakia so that their children could one day havea better life. Their son lives in Tasmania, he has twochildren, they have two grandchildren, who do not liketo talk in Slovak. New home, new language. English.Their daughter lived for two years in Slovakia.The country, from which she came, she liked. Shefound that country again.

Adelaide. One hour’s flight from Melbourne. Marino Bonniniis illiterate, but his generosity is unparalleled. He doesnot know the words “Thank you, I do not wish!”, only –“You must!” And grappa is an Italian specialty, you can-not refuse it. Josephine, Teresa, Pellegrino, the entirefamily convened, now they shout like in an Italianmovie, they too have lived on this continent for close tohalf a century. “You must!” Marino shouts, and handsover a plate with biscuits, later a cup with grappa. Au-stralian blood you would not find in him. He remainedan Italian.

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

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K R O K O D Í L A C H U D O B A

Bibing umrela v piatok zavčas rána. Ak sa vôbec dá hovoriťo smrti ako o vyslobodení, potom v prípade tejto štyri -dsaťsedemročnej ženy to bola pravda. Pred necelýmpol rokom jej amputovali prsník. Rakovina. Viac lekáranevidela. Žiadne chemoterapie, nič. Jedna dávka vy-chádza na tridsaťtisíc filipínskych pesos, asi päťstoeur, potrebovala by ich šesť. Kde by na to vzala penia -ze, keď celá rodina žije asi zo sto eur mesačne? Lekárk nej neprišiel ani vo štvrtok večer, keď ležala v kóme.S jej svokrou to vybavil cez telefón. Zvýšte jej dávkumorfia! Ale aj to bolo drahé…

Zavolali k nej kňaza, aby jej dal posledné pomazanie.Modlitby, pár kropají svätenej vody. Okolo sa tmolili jejdve malé deti, manžel musel ísť do práce, občas sa naprahu domu zjavil dakto zo susedov. Chudobní Filipín-čania žijú aj umierajú spolu, bieda ich zbližuje. Cez ste -ny často iba z palmového lístia počuť všetko, do mecprilepený o ďalší, ak je dakde betónové schodi sko,aké vedie i do domu Bibing, aj pod ním ktosi býva.Slová kňaza preto museli počuť aj susedia. Amen, za-znelo posledné slovo Laca Miku. Tridsaťroč ný Slovák,ktorý sa na Filipínach ocitol ako misionár čakajúci navízum do Pakistanu, mal za sebou svoje prvé posled -né pomazanie. Ráno sa dozvedel, že Bibing umrela.

Toto bola realita. Nie jeho niekdajšie chlapčenské pred-stavy, že misionár sa má dobre, lebo sa môže dívať nakrokodíla zblízka. Môže, lenže keď sa človek ocitnev ďalekej cudzine, vidí nielen krokodíla, ale začne vní-mať aj ľudí, čo tu žijú, aby nakoniec pochopil, že kroko-díl je celkom nepodstatný.

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, žijes Annou Mariou, s tou má už tri deti.

C R O C O D I L E A N D P O V E R T Y

Bibing died on Friday early in the morning. If it would bepossible to talk about death as liberation, it was truein the case of this 47-year-old woman. Less than halfa year ago they have amputated her nipple. Cancer.No more visits from the doctor. No chemotherapy, not-hing. One dose costs 30,000 Philippine pesos, about500 euros, and she would need six of them. Fromwhere to get that money when the entire family liveson about 100 euros per month? Doctor did not evenarrive Thursday evening when she was in a coma.With her mother-in-law he had organized it onthe phone. Increase her morphine dose! But also thatwas expensive…

They called for a priest, to administer extreme unction.Prayers, a few drops of holy water. Nearby two smallchildren wandered, her husband was obliged to go towork, from time to time at the entrance somebodyfrom the neighbourhood appeared. Poor Filipinos liveand die together, poverty draws them together.Through the walls made of only palm leaves everyt-hing can be heard, houses close to one another,if there is a concrete staircase, like that one leadingto the house of Bibing, even below stairs somebodywould house. The priest’s words, for sure, were over-heard by the neighbours. Amen, was the last wordof Laco Mika. A 30-year-old Slovak, who arrived inthe 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 canwatch crocodiles up close. He can, but when a personarrives to remote foreign country, he would see notonly a crocodile, but he would start to apprehend alsopeople who live there in order finally to understandthat a crocodile is completely unimportant.

Delia Bejer is 50 years old and smiles like a stewardess. Widea happy smile, but unlike a stewardesses she is not pre-tending. She has two sons, one married, he lives withAnna Maria, and they have already three children.

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Ako vychádzajú z chatrče, predstavuje ich jedného podruhom. Anna Maria drží na rukách malé dieťa a jehohlavu si pritláča k ľavému plecu. K pravému nemôže,tam má už štyri roky obrovský hrvoľ. Človek nemusíbyť lekár, aby pochopil, že to súvisí so štítnou žľazou.„Lekár? Toho sa bojím!“ povie a dodá, že bez lekáraradšej porodila aj svoje deti. „Tu,“ ukáže na chatrčv slumovej štvrti mesta s udupanou hlinou namiestodlážky. Sporák, to sú tri kamene, na ktorých stojí oča-dený hrniec. Delia Bejerová sa rozosmeje a povie –„Iný nemám a varím iba ryžu, však aj tak nič iné ne-jeme.“ Všade dokola sa povaľujú odpadky. Z nich žijú.Vždy nadránom vyrazia zbierať plastové fľaše a tiepotom predávajú na recykláciu. Zarobia na nich asipätnásť eur za týždeň. Voda? „Nemáme,“ odvetí Delia.Elektrika? „Nemáme,“ zasmeje sa. „Bývame tu uždvadsať rokov,“ dodá. „Ale kedykoľvek nás môžu vy-hodiť aj s domom, pozemok je súkromný, len nie náš.“

Kam sa podel krokodíl z Lacovho detstva? Spomína namamu, ktorá vždy posielala balíčky na misie. Bol prílišmalý, aby chápal, kam a komu tie balíčky idú, mal sot -va päť rokov. Potom však prichádzali ďakovné listya mama ich zvykla svojim deťom čítať. Ďakovali za ce-ruzky, za zošity, za hračky… Z tých listov bolo cítiť ne-známe diaľavy, mali chuť iných kultúr, zapáčili sa mu,dokonca vyhlásil, že aj on raz bude misionárom. Len -že, potom mama do jedného balíčka pribalila aj jehoobľúbené autíčko, bol z toho krik a plač, mama mu au-tíčko bez slova vrátila a on už misionárom byť nechcel.„Ešte aj dnes sa za to hanbím,“ povie Laco, kým DeliaBejerová rozkladá pod odymeným hrncom oheň.

„Zohnali sme pre nich dom,“ vraví Regina Palencia. Lacoprikyvuje. Ate Regi, mama Regi. Jedna z troch žien,ktoré vstúpili do jeho života na Filipínach. Ate Regi užtridsaťpäť rokov spolupracuje so saleziánmi, organi-zuje adopcie na diaľku.

As the children leave the shack, he would introduceone after the other one. Anna Maria has in her handsa small child and holds his head on her left shoulder. Itwould not work for the right shoulder, for four years shehas there a giant gullet. A person doesn’t need to bea doctor in order to understand that it has somethingto do with the thyroid gland. “A doctor? I’m afraid!” shesays, and adds that she preferred to deliver her chil-dren without a doctor. “There,” she points to the shackin slum district of the town with its beaten earth insteadof flooring. Stove is made up of three stones, abovethem a smoky pot. Delia Bejer starts laughing and says– “I have no other pot and I cook only rice, indeed wedon’t eat anything else.” Everywhere around waste.They make their living from waste. Always at day breakthey part to collect plastic bottles and later they will sellthem for recycling. They will earn about 15 euros perweek. Water? “We do not have it,” Delia answers. Elec-tricity? “We do not have it,” she laughs. “We have livedhere already for 20 years,” she adds. “But at anytimethey can throw us out – including the shack. This is pri-vate land that does not belong to us.”

Where did that crocodile from Laco’s childhood disap-pear to? He recalls his mother, who always sent pac-kages to missions. He was small, too small tounderstand where and for whom these packageswere to, he was hardly five years old. But later lettersof thank arrived and mother used to read them for thechildren. Saying thanks for pencils, exercise books,toys… From these letters, the feeling of unknown dis-tances, the taste of other cultures, he liked them. Heeven declared that one day he would become a mis-sionary, too. But later his mother included in one pac-kage also his favourite car, a toy, which caused muchscreaming and crying. His mother took back that carwithout a word and he no longer wanted to becomea 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 Pa-lencia. Laco nods. Ate Regi, mother of Regi. Oneof three women who became a part of his life inthe Philippines. Ate Regi already for 35 years coopera-tes with Salesians, organizing remote adoptions.

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O B S A H

C O N T E N T S

BYŤ PRI ĽUĎOCH A PRE ĽUDÍ

TO BE WITH PEOPLE AND FOR PEOPLE 5

PRIATEĽSTVÁ AKO SIBÍRSKE JEDLE

FRIENDSHIPS LIKE SIBERIAN FIRS 7

TONO ZVANÝ ŽULA

TONO ALSO KNOWN AS GRANITE 12

NA SIBÍRI

IN SIBERIA 47

SEDEM STATOČNÝCH

MAGNIFICENT SEVEN 79

V TIENI ENVERA HODŽU

IN THE SHADOW OF ENVER HODJA 107

Z BIEDY DO CHUDOBY

FROM MISERY TO POVERTY 129

TROPPA GRATIA SAN ANTONIO

TROPPA GRATIA SAN ANTONIO 157

KROKODÍL A CHUDOBA

CROCODILE AND POVERTY 175

MODLIA SA AJ KOMUNISTI

ALSO COMMUNISTS PRAY 207

POŠTÁRKA

POŠTÁRKA 229