Saying goodbye to the whole Pahović family yesterday afternoon was far from easy. Rudi Handjal was there, as well. Our hugs were longer and more fervent than usual, for we all knew that it would be months before we hugged each other again. And I spilled it out then and there. “I feel funny leaving you all,” I raised my eyebrows. “A bit like a deserter,” Benjamin chuckled. “Exactly,” I nodded with feeling, “exactly!” His son, Tomica, is bringing new hope to the hilltown and the surrounding villages. The new mayor just smiled at my confession, though. He knows that I will jump into the fray whenever needed. But I still felt funny about leaving Motovun earlier today. As luck would have it, my beloved and I bumped into Benjamin on our way to the car. We hugged again, but it did not help much. And I still feel a bit like a deserter hours after reaching Zagreb. If everything goes according to plan, I will be back in Motovun sometime in late March.

Addendum (January 5, 2014)

Pero Učkar called this afternoon. “One day to go,” he sighed. Tomorrow is the last day Benjamin’s will be open, that is. The same holds for the hotel, as well. Motovun will close for the winter. The new tourist season will start in late March at the earliest, but everyone will be waiting for Easter, which falls very late this year. “I hope there will be a few survivors by the time you return in early spring,” Pero chuckled. At these words, I saw the streets and squares of the hilltown strewn with bodies. “Fingers crossed,” I chuckled in turn. But the gloomy vision is still with me long after our telephone conversation. Sprawling bodies everywhere. Which makes me feel a bit like a deserter one more time.