church , I meet a small crowd in traditional dress , carrying a statue of Mary in procession for Assumption Day . I lurk like a Peeping Tom to photograph them , expecting to be kicked to the curb shortly thereafter . But no . I ' m welcomed with an irreproachable toast based on slivovica with atomic alcohol content . In their eyes I deserve a pat on the back and another round of drink just for coming from so far away .
Despite our different habits and language , they greet me as an old relative , and this makes me proud and happy . All in all , Majo is right ; “ identity is not a limit indeed but an opening on the border ”. AF
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