Children and goats

Sunday 22^nd July

Time has been passing quickly and it’s difficult to account for each day looking back. One of the tasks given to me was taking care of the children while Honsa and Jana were doing other things. We were down at the goat pen and the children were happy to play in the dirt. Mariann, the boy, who is six, found a grub in the ground and both children were intrigued with this small wriggling creature, passing it one to the other. Mariann and Zorka are very content children, they don’t argue, complain or cry.

Friday, I helped Honsa take down a wall of the largest goat pen. The reason for this was he was going to use the tractor to remove all the manure; there is tons of the stuff. Afterwards I got a bigger task to undertake – clean out the other adjacent goat pen. This was more enclosed and the tractor could not be used. The pen is much larger than the pig pen and was going to be quite a task; one year of built up straw, shit and goat pee. Honsa gave me a pitchfork and I set about the task and what a task. What I was digging out was over a foot deep and really compacted. I’m not used to such physical labour and it was hard going.

Around midday spoke those lovely words “Going to beer.” What is so good working with Honsa and Jana is that they are very easy going and as with all good Czechs, they like their beer. How different they are from the German couple, Blane and Julie, I did Workaway for in Denmark. There I would start working after breakfast about 9.30 and continue working until 2 or even 2.30 when lunch would be served. Never once did they offer me mid morning refreshments, not even a glass of water. Of course I took my own break, making coffee for myself in the van.

On Saturday, yesterday, I continued with lifting out the straw saturated muck from the goat pen. At least in there I had some shade from the hot summer sun. I felt a little stronger, my old muscles getting used to the task. Honsa had given me a three pronged pitchfork to work with but it didn’t pick up so much. I had spotted a four pronged one and went for it; it was a little easier now.

In the afternoon I went with Jana to an open day at a farm that had a big herd of goats. There were quite a number of visitors at the farm, enjoying beer and eating local produce. I ate some meat from a lamb roast; it was good but I was tired and hot. It had been a long drive and Jana didn’t like the window being open too much; I felt overcome with the heat. When we got back I went to the van to rest and sleep.

Today Honsa gave me a new task, screwing insulator hooks into fence posts for the electrical wire which would surround the large field and prevent the twenty or so female goats, two horses, one donkey and a mule from escaping.

When I had finished the morning’s work I walked up the fields and met up with Honsa, I noticed fresh blood on his leg. I pointed to it with concern. “It’s not mine,” he replied. Jana had spoken about a sick goat which had to be killed and I put two and two together. “It is good meat for the dogs,” Honsa said. Honsa and Jana have three dogs, a special Czech dog which is one third wolf and for most of the time they are kept in a large cage. I had already met one of the dogs in the house and it was very friendly. We walked past the cage and there was the large goat on the floor without a head; the dogs were devouring their feast. “Christmas come early for them,” I joked.

At lunchtime we drove a few kilometres to another village where we had our lunch. Honsa had told me about the sweet dumplings and because he suggested it, I thought I should try it. The dumplings were small and very sweet, tasty but really it was only a pudding. Honsa had goulash with dumplings and Jana had snitzel with boiled potatoes. He had asked me if I would like potato soup and I said I would but I never got it, instead I ate the potatoes which Jana couldn’t finish but I felt like I had missed out on a proper lunch.

After lunch I continued the work I had begun in the morning under the baking sun and I wished that this day was a day of rest. It was a big field, Honsa said about one hectare; their farm has two and half hectares in total. I quit work at four thirty and went to back to my van.

At six called me and asked if I’d like to go to the pub; it was a good suggestion. A group of locals were assembled there and Honsa exchanged greetings with them. I looked toward them but no one met my gaze, so no greeting. At the table I chatted, mainly with Honsa and after a bit asked he was going to cook at home. He said yes but then asked if I was hungry. I was, my lunch of sweet dumplings and a few potatoes wasn’t much. He asked if I would like something now and I said I would; I choose fried cheese and French fries. I tried to chat with Jana but she didn’t seem keen to chat. She left before us and didn’t say goodbye to me.

Afterwards, I went for a walk and was soon walking outside the village in the countryside. I mulled over the visit to the pub. I realised that the locals were not that friendly, just polite and I also wondered what was wrong with Jana. Was it me? Should I have not asked for some food?  Back at the van a wave of discomfort swept over me and I really felt like a foreigner, not so welcome in a foreign land and far from home. But then, where was my home – just my van.

I have on occasions wondered how long I can keep this travel going. My plan is to travel until I find somewhere which I can call home and find someone or some people who will care for me and I care for them. There are times when I doubt what I am doing.

I spent the evening alone and watched an Eckart Tolle talk. He always inspires me and told the story of a Zen master and his disciple. The disciple was going on a long journey and spoke with the master before departing. The disciple said he had not found enlightenment and wished for some advice to help him as he travelled. The master said that wherever he is and whatever occurs, he must say “Thank you, I have no complaints.” By this he will find spiritual enlightenment. Eckhart explained that whatever happens, good or bad, be thankful for it and don’t complain. In other words don’t resist what occurs, go with it. I realised that I did a lot of complaining, not to others but to myself. I complained about unfriendly people, I complained about Jana barely speaking and not saying goodbye and most of all I complain about being alone. I am resisting what is, not accepting what is. I must change.

That evening I decided that I will go to a campsite the next day. I needed to empty my chemical loo, having chosen not to use their primitive toilet. I really don’t like using my loo in the van but it was preferable to sitting over a bucket.