#lipnic

After 3 hours on the road we were almost there.

When the car passes the sign reading Lipnic and you’re driving on the road along the railways, then it’s no longer far. You take the first left turn, then the first right and there you are, on the wobbly dirt road that brings you home.

Though home is empty and there is a big chain and a lock at the gate, no one can take that feeling away from you.

My mom in the front of the car and me in the back, the silence only broken by my cousin, who manages to finally say something smart - “Home is close.”

We had a tense debate while driving. Politics. An ugly creature that divides families and relatives. The North of Moldova has become a red dot on the map. A bedrock for communist pro-russian supporters. Some so blinded by the aggressive Russian propaganda that they’ve come to believe in the nonsense they replicate. My dispute with my cousin was making my mom uncomfortable, even though she herself could not agree with his pro russian infatuation. The war in Ukraine, how it happened and who was fuelling it - a very inflammable topic obviously. More so, when your own cousin goes on about how Americans invaded Ukraine, how they are dividing the country and how Crimea was not occupied by Russia but merely returned to its cradle. Yet another reminder of just how powerful and efficient the Russian propaganda remains in many of its former Soviet republics.

This road that I took so many times with my grandpa seems much longer than I remember. In silence, my entire being gets overwhelmed, emotional. But for the sake of my mother, and myself, I do not dare say a word. This place that brings the best memories of my childhood and the most fascinating of dreams, is just minutes away. I sit there in the back of the car and think of my mom, who comes to an empty house. A house where she was once a child running barefoot, where her children grew up, where her parents grew old. 

This time we come to clean. 

When ten years ago grandma moved to my parents in the capital, her house and everything in it remained behind. All the same, untouched. The small house with one bedroom, one provisions room and one summer kitchen have not changed a bit. Still the same blankets on the bed, the same carpets on the floor, the same half empty perfume in the cupboard. The water bucket under the table. A pair of beautiful blue stone earrings in a drawer. Everything in its place as when grandpa and grandma were still living there.

I follow my mom everywhere with my new phone eager to take photos. My mom gets upset. She’d like me to help instead. But I don’t want to miss a thing, because next time I will be there, all the treasures of old times will be gone. The cupboards will be empty, the beds will have fresh linen, the provisions room will be entirely empty.

How can one keep their memories alive then?

Many years now the house is empty, though its last true owner is not dead yet. Grandma had to move, as life on her own was no longer manageable.  

When she moved, only the dog was left behind. At the mercy of the neighbours. We could not take him along, he was wild, most of the times gentle, but sometimes he’d sneak and bite even the hand that fed him. So, there he was, day after day, until years have passed by. Serving his duty to guard the house. Up until the moment when the freezing cold of the last winter decided it was time. 

When you live in a country where time stands still, choices are sometimes limited and options not so many. The village life provided little alternative for a decent dog death. He learned to eat the walnuts that were everywhere in the autumn, in the summer he’d feast on the cherries. When he was lucky he managed to eat a curious chicken or two. Water and bread was otherwise his existence. How did he survive so many of those long forgotten winters?

The house and the village did not change at all. The entire countryside barely did too. If anything, the roads are worse and the village is half empty. Dogs died, cats did too, many people that were once the soul of that place are no longer in their houses. 

When Soviet Union collapsed a nation was so eager to get rid of the past and embrace the new that old sturdy wooden furniture that could serve many generations for decades to come was replaced with cheap wobbly pieces with new looks. In the meanwhile the desire to move ahead seems to have stopped at the change of furniture.  

I saw it on the picture. The little room, with its three beds, it still looks as 30 years ago. Except without its residents. A miracle that survives as long as grandma is alive. The room carries with it a sense of belonging that is hard to ever get back. And even harder to build today.

It is no longer the same, the meaning of a house nowadays. 

Barbatul din Ocnita care si-a impuscat vecinul in ajun de Inviere s-a SINUCIS in celula |- Potrivit ministerului de Interne, barbatul, in varsta de 54 de ani s-a spanzurat intr-o celula in timp ce se afla in arestul politiei. Acesta si-a pus capat zilelor cu o franghie, pe care a facut-o dintr-un prosop. Barbatul a fost gasit dimineata de catre un gardian, dupa ce toata noaptea a fost agitat si nu putea dormi. El era cercetat penal pentru ca si-a impuscat mortal un prieten cu o arma de vanatoare dupa ce au consumat impreuna bauturi alcoolice.

Nu a mai rezistat remuscarilor si s-a sinucis. Este vorba despre un barbat din satul Lipnic, Ocnita, care in ajun de Paste si-a impuscat vecinul cu o arma de vanatoare pe care o detinea ilegal.

Potrivit ministerului de Interne, barbatul, in varsta de 54 de ani s-a spanzurat intr-o celula in timp ce se afla in arestul politiei.…

Tragedie de Inviere la Ocnita. Un barbat a fost impuscat mortal cu o arma de vanatoare |- Masa de Inviere, dar mai ales alcoolul consumat i-au luat mintile unui barbat din Ocnita. Disputa a fost atat de serioasa incat gazda, suparata peste masura a luat o arma de vanatoare pe care o detinea ilegal si l-a impuscat mortal pe vecinul sau.

Masa de Inviere, dar mai ales alcoolul consumat i-au luat mintile unui barbat din Ocnita. Dupa ce au stat la masa, infierbantati de bautura, doi barbati s-au luat la cearta.

Disputa a fost atat de serioasa incat gazda, suparata peste masura a luat o arma de vanatoare pe care o detinea ilegal si l-a impuscat mortal pe vecinul sau.…

Lipnic este un sat şi comună din raionul Ocniţa. Satul are o suprafaţă de circa 4.88 kilometri pătraţi, cu un perimetru de 10.86 km. Din componenţa comunei fac parte localităţile Lipnic și Paustova. Satul Lipnic este situat la o distanță de 3 km de orașul Ocnița și la 236 km de Chișinău. Satul Lipnic a fost menționat documentar în anul 1437.

Statut: Sat Prima atestare: 1437 Populația: 2651 locuitori

Lipnic este un sat şi comună din raionul Ocniţa. Satul are o suprafaţă de circa 4.88 kilometri pătraţi, cu un perimetru de 10.86 km. Din componenţa comunei fac parte localităţile Lipnic și Paustova. Satul Lipnic este situat la o distanță de 3 km de orașul Ocnița și la 236 km de Chișinău. Satul Lipnic a fost menționat documentar în anul…