Od kontrade do kontrade

Dario skoro svaki dan radi u vrtu. Tijekom ljeta mora nekoliko puta plijeviti travu, a za sušnih perioda samo na zalijevanje dnevno odu otprilike 2 sata. Uzgaja papriku, rajčicu, poriluk, krumpir, šljive i grožđe. Zimi u vrtu rastu zimska salata i zelje. U voćnjaku pored kuće su još i trešnja, jabuka, smokva i japanska kruška. Dario voli eksperimentirati s novim sortama voća.

Dario živi u kući prekoputa vrta. Njegov otac, kovač po zanimanju, kuću je kupio 1930-ih godina. U kući je imao i kovačku radnju. Nije obrađivao zemlju, radio je samo svoj zanat i imao je dosta posla. Dario ga se ne sjeća jer su ga nacisti s još desetak drugih mještana zbog pomaganja partizanima odveli u logor blizu Hamburga. Ondje je preminuo u 12. mjesecu 1944. Imao je 30 godina. U službenoj obavijesti o njegovoj smrti pisalo je da je umro od srca. Dario pretpostavlja da je bio na prisilnom radu u velikoj tvornici oružja i da je poginuo za vrijeme engleskog bombardiranja.

Nijemci su 1943. kao odmazdu za jednog svojeg ubijenog vojnika htjeli spaliti kuće i strijeljati sve stanovnike Savičente. Svećenik koji je srećom dobro govorio njemački uspio je to spriječiti. Dariova majka je već bila u koloni s ostalim stanovnicima koje su Nijemci tjerali prema Puli kad joj je jedan čovjek došapnuo ‘Roža, kuća ti gori!’ Kad je to čula, nekako je uspjela pobjeći iz kolone. Prečicom kroz šumu je dotrčala do kuće, zgrabila plahtu, bacila je na vatru koja se još nije bila proširila i tako zaustavila požar. Nijemci su htjeli zapaliti kuću, no kako su stvari za potpalu stavili na željezni krevet, vatra se nije stigla proširiti. Kad je Dario puno godina kasnije renovirao kuću, na podu u toj sobi još uvijek su bili vidljivi tragovi paleža.

Vratio sam se, uvijek sam patio za tim mjestom jer sam ga volio.

Kuće su nekad preko kamena većinom imale žbuku, žbuka je davala toplinu. Kasnije su počeli skidati žbuku da se vidi kamen.

Nekad su dvorišni zidovi u ulici bili viši.

Ondje gdje je danas Studenac, nekada je bio mlin. Ljudi su kolima dovozili svoju pšenicu i kukuruz. Pšenica je sazrijevala u 6. ili 7. mjesecu prije velikih vrućina. Klima je bila drugačija nego danas, ljeto je bilo vruće, ali je bilo oluja i više kiše.

Tijekom 1950ih Dario se s majkom i sestrama morao iseliti iz stare kuće jer je bila toliko vlažna da se jedna od sestara razboljela. Tako su neko vrijeme živjeli u malom stanu na 1. katu u zgradi u kojoj je danas Studenac. Iza starinskih ulaznih vrata bile su strme stube koje su vodile na prvi kat. Dario se k’o dijete često spuštao po drvenom rukohvatu u prizemlje.

Stan je bio lijep, ali je imao samo jednu sobu i kuhinju. Na katu je živjela još jedna obitelj. Ostatak prvog kata je bio ogroman prazan prostor, toliko velik da se ondje moglo igrati mali nogomet. Danas gore nitko ne živi.

U ovu kuću preselili su se iz stančića u zgradi gdje je bio mlin. Na raspolaganju su imali cijelu kuću pa im više nije bilo tijesno. Ispred kuće tada nije bilo kamene klupice.

Dariova majka je radila u gostionici poljoprivredne zadruge. U prizemlju su držali bačve i vino, a stolovi su bili samo u prostorijama na katu.

Prije drugog svjetskog rata u Savičenti se govorilo talijanski. Ne daj bože da nisi govorio talijanski. Ako bi seljaci iz okolnih sela došli i govorili hrvatski, odmah bi ih kaznili. Mi smo u obitelji govorili talijanski. Do osnovne škole ja nisam čuo hrvatski i zbog toga sam pao prvi razred, kao i dosta druge djece. Zato sam poslije i nastavio školovanje u Zagrebu da tamo malo usavršim hrvatski. Nakon rata mama mi je radila u gostioni. I onda ovi komunisti, koji su većinom bili šefovi poljoprivredne, dođu u gostionu i počnu vikati na nas, da zašto mama i ja razgovaramo na talijanskom. No moja mama, ona je bila oštra, nije se dala samo tako, odbrusila im je: Za fašiste ste vikali da zabranjuju govoriti hrvatski, a sad vi radite isto…

Majka me navečer sa sobom vodila radi zaštite, mislila je ako gosti vide dijete, neće ništa pokušati. I stojim ja tako među tim ljudima, oni kartaju i daju mi kruškovac. Slatko je to bilo i fino. Na kraju mi se toliko vrtilo da sam po stepenicama pao u prizemlje. Mama to nije vidila. Da je vidila, bila bi galamila. Na sreću se nisam ozlijedio, bio sam k’o spužva.

Tu smo mi kao djeca sjedili navečer na velikoj bankini. Svi bi se tu skupili. Tu je bio trotoar, tu smo se uvijek igrali, na šterni je uvijek bilo djece. Puno djece je bilo, danas nikoga ne vidiš, no danas se djeca i drugačije igraju.

Nije bilo špina, imali smo jedan lavor i tu smo se prali.

Savičenta je još za vrijeme Italije imala struju, no sve do 1980-ih nije imala tekuću vodu. Po vodu se išlo na šternu. Šterna je imala ključ. Voda je bila jako hladna. Ljeti bi u šterni ponestalo vode, pa bi je vatrogasci došli dopuniti. Nekad se moralo nešto i platiti. Iz Zavoda su dolazili provjeriti je li voda zdrava. Voda se čistila klorom. Samo bogatiji mještani su imali svoju vlastitu šternu.

Druženje je bilo samo vani. Ljudi su imali klupice za sjedenje, pa si danas došao kod ovoga, sutra kod onoga. Kod nas se nije po kućama družilo ni ljeti ni zimi. Uvijek smo bili vani, malo popričali, to je bilo zdravije…. makar nije bilo tih bolesti toliko k’o sada.

Početkom 1960ih Savičenta je dobila prvi televizor koji se nalazio u čitaonici nekadašnjeg Društvenog doma. Tamo se gledala talijanska televizija, najviše dnevnik i reklame. Uvijek je bilo krcato.

Dario gardens almost every day. In the summertime, he weeds the grass several times a day and during dry periods watering takes around 2 hours a day. He grows peppers, tomatoes, leeks, potatoes, plums, and grapes. In the winter he grows lettuce and cabbage. In the orchard next to the house, he grows a cherry, apple, fig, and Asian pear tree. Dario loves experimenting with new types of fruit.

Dario lives in the house across the garden. His father, a blacksmith, bought the house in the 1930s. He had a forge in his house. He wasn’t a farmer, only a blacksmith, and had plenty of work. Dario does not remember him because the Nazis took him and around ten other local residents to a camp near Hamburg for helping the Partisans. There he died in December 1944. He was 30 years old. His death certificate said he died of heart failure. Dario believes he was subject to forced labour in a large weapon factory and that he was killed in England’s bombing raid.

In 1943, the Germans wanted to retaliate against one of their killed soldiers by burning all houses and shooting all residents of Savičenta. A priest that, luckily, spoke German managed to stop them. Dario’s mother had already been in the line of people the Germans were forcing out of Savičenta and towards Pula, when a man whispered to her “Roža, your house is on fire!” When she heard that, she somehow managed to escape the line of people. She used a shortcut through the forest to get to her house, grabbed a sheet, threw it on the fire that had not yet spread and thus contained the fire. The Germans wanted to set fire to the house but having placed the firewood on top of an iron bed, the fire didn’t spread. When Dario decided to renovate the house many years later, there were still traces of the fire on the floor of that room.

I came back, I always yearned for that place because I loved it.

The stone houses used to be covered in mortar, mortar was a heat insulator. Later people started removing the mortar to show the stones.

The backyard walls in the street used to be higher.

There used to be a mill where the Studenac store is today. People would bring their wheat and corn in carts. Wheat would ripen in June or July, before the intense heat. The climate was different than today, summers were hot, but with more storms and rain.

In the 1950s Dario had to move with his mother and sisters from the old house because it was so damp that one of his sisters became ill. So, they lived in a small first-floor apartment in the building where the Studenac store is today. Behind the old entrance, there were steep stairs leading to the first floor. As a child, Dario often slid down the handrail to get to the ground floor.

The apartment was beautiful, but had only one room and a kitchen. Another family lived on the first floor. The rest of the first floor was a giant empty space, so big you could play futsal. Today nobody lives there.

They moved to this house from an apartment in the building where there used to be a mill. They had the entire house at their disposal, so it wasn’t tight for them anymore. There was no stone bench in front of the house at that time.

Dario’s mother worked in the tavern of the agricultural cooperative. Wine barrels were kept on the ground floor, and tables were located in the first-floor area.

Before WWII, Italian was spoken in Savičenta. You had to speak Italian. When villagers from the surrounding area came here and spoke Croatian, they were punished immediately. We spoke Italian at home. Until I started elementary school, I had never heard Croatian, which is why I flunked first grade, just like many other children. That’s why I continued my education in Zagreb, to improve my Croatian. After the war, my mother worked in a tavern. One time the communists, mostly people in charge of the agricultural cooperative, came to the tavern and started shouting at us, asking why my mother and I were talking in Italian. And then my mother, who was tough and had to get her own way, told them: “You used to accuse Fascists of banning Croatian, and now you are doing the same…”

Mother would take me with her in the evenings for protection, she figured guests wouldn’t misbehave in front of a child. So, there I was, among these people, they were playing cards and they let me have perry. It was sweet and tasty. In the end I got so dizzy that I fell down the stairs to the ground floor. My mother didn’t see it. If she had, she would have yelled at me. Luckily, I didn’t get hurt, I was like a sponge.

When we were children, we used to sit here on the verge of the road in the evening. Everyone would gather here. There was the pavement, we played there, there were always children around the cistern. There were many children, today you don’t see anyone, today children play in a different way.

There were no taps, we had one basin and we washed in it.

Savičenta had electricity during the Italian rule, but there was no running water until the 1980s. People would get water from the cistern. The cistern had a key. The water was very cold. In the summertime, the water in the cistern would run out, and then firemen would fill it up. Sometimes you had to pay for it. The Institute would come and check the water quality. The water was chlorinated. Only the wealthy locals had their own cisterns.

We socialized outside. People had benches for sitting, you would visit someone today, then someone else tomorrow. We didn’t visit each other’s homes in the summer nor winter. We were always outside, talking, that was better for our health…. However, then there were not as many illnesses as today.

In the beginning of the 1960s, Savičenta got its first TV in the reading room of the former community centre. There we watched Italian TV channels, news, and commercials mostly. It was always packed.