Uncle shaving his hair due the heat

Welcome back home, where nothing has changed. The puddles on every street that you know like the fingers on your hand are still there just a bit deeper, the wood of the benches has soaked just a bit more rain and sweat from the last time you were here. Welcome back home where the death is more alive than the living. Welcome back home, the harvest is no good this year, the sun is violent; the horses went mad walking round in circles; the chickens got lazy and the cows are tired. Welcome back home, the ugly got uglier, your enemy hasn’t stopped hating you and the river is now dry like you’ve never seen it before. Welcome back home to all those children you’ve never seen, replacing your time and space here. Unfold the mess in your stomach, wear out your feet on the little rocks, greet the ghosts in the houses that you were afraid of, be rude with that neighbor you always hated but were too little to disrespect. You’re home now, child, oh home sweet home.       I lost my grandpa in the winter of 2012; I was 14 years old at the time, this event led to the development of a big trauma for me. Death became my fear number one. It haunted me, the idea I can lose someone I love anytime was frustrating. 9 years later I overcame this issue and I realized the importance of living trauma-free. I came to Italy when I was 9 years old. My grandparents lived in Bulgaria, where I spent a lot of time during my childhood. The fear of losing again one of my family members made it almost mandatory to spend as much time as I could in Bulgaria. After the loss, my idea of home was wrecked. My grandmother had lost for the second time her husband, that was 10 years younger. She moved from Russia to Bulgaria for him. My grandpa used to be the silent type of guy, almost invisible, but after he was gone his absence felt bulky. We call my grandma “The iron woman” she never stopped going to work even now 9 years later, she’s like a little soldier waking up at 5 am to start the day. At the age of 76, she keeps managing her own second-hand clothing shop and the house. But home is no longer the same, the grass is high, the ceilings are full of spider web, the warming is broken, the animals are less. She calls it the lack of a man’s hand.   It was only during the quarantine that I got passionate about photography, I had the opportunity to spend two months in Bulgaria, every summer that I can spend there while my grandma is healthy is a blessing for me. The village is 200km from the capital Sofia, Bulgaria used to be a Socialist country till 1990, unfortunately, with democracy the entire country crashed down and places like the one I come from never evolved much, but that’s what I love about it.

Fotoğrafçı:
ariyakaratas
Yüklendi:
2021-04-26
Etiketler:
bulgaria bw casa decay family home memories nostalgia pain postsoviet thirdworld
Fotoğraf Makinesi:
Minolta x300s
Film:
Rollei Superpan 200
Ülke:
Bulgaria
Albümler:
WELCOME BACK HOME
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