PART ONE - Arrival in Bratislava

Family and friends,

This past weekend was a bit like finding a missing piece to the puzzle…I arrived in Bratislava on Saturday morning without a problem. It was smooth sailing! The weekend weather could not have been better, well, perhaps a few degrees warmer on Sunday and Monday, but I shouldn’t complain; I was able to walk around most of Saturday without a coat. The seemingly strong rays of the sun on my skin never felt better.

Bratislava’s main rail station is not so great, but it wasn’t nearly as overwhelming to the senses as Kyiv’s Borispol airport. Of course, once outside I saw several Roma gypsies, which is a common sight throughout most of Eastern Europe, and Slovakia, in particular. But, in contrast to past trips to Poland where Roma and drunken beggars come right up to you, people let me go my merry way.

Without much ado, I made my way down Stefanikova ulica and happened into the Presidential gardens. Yes, I just happened to peer in and noticed what seemed to be a park and walked in to enjoy the view and different modern art sculptures. After a few pictures of the changing colors of the leaves, it was on to the historical district. In just a few minutes I was in the vicinity of St. Michael’s gate and took a picture for a gentlemanly group of guys from New Zealand. How pleasant not to run into a band of stag party Londoners!

Bratislava has a compact, but lovely old town. It’s definitely not on the scale of Prague, but I found my visit really refreshing. I left behind the hoards of tourists in Prague and really felt like I had a city at my fingertips to explore. Bratislava has a number of churches, historic squares (e.g., hlavni namesti – “main square”), Bratislava castle, galleries, and museums that are worth a visit. On the advice of my travel bible (Lonely Planet), I decided to spend my afternoon taking in views of the castle and its various museums. From castle top, I had a terrific view of the Communists' flagship building project, Novy Most (“New Bridge”), which required the bulldozing of the former Jewish quarter. Across the Danube on the other side of the bridge is another ‘gift’ from the Commies: a model communist city called “Petrzalka”, which is comprised of one tall, sterile, ugly block of socialist flats after another. I understand this might be hard to imagine for those of you who have never visited a former Eastern Bloc country, but let me assure you: save for our inner city projects, we are really very blessed in the States.

Highlights of my afternoon included learning more about the Austro-Hungarian empire, including its military weaknesses, frequent insurrections, and use of “heyduck”, hired fighters from the Balkans. The music museum had a small exhibit on the Albrecht family, chamber music (i.e., how middleclass families in the 1700 and 1800s enjoyed communal music; how spontaneous playing occurred frequently, which sparked conversation, commentary, and further musical exploration), a section on hymns, including liturgical hymns in Slovak, which were early fruit of Slovak national consciousness.

At 5 p.m. was the moment I’d been waiting years for… to meet a distant relative … anyone hailing from the Fecko clan in Slovakia. After a little confusion, Valent found me, the lady in a pink coat waiting on the corner of Zidowska ulica (“Jewish Street”). As my eyes moved up from the pages of my guide book, I was overjoyed to see none other than a familiar pair of eyes, nose, and cheeks. I had to catch myself, but I really felt like I saw my grandfather in Valent, even some of my dad. Later that night we looked at old pictures from Vysne Repase, the village where the Fecko and Parana families come from. I showed Valent a picture of my dad and he immediately saw Fecko and Parana features. He then proceeded to show me pictures of his uncles, Mihal and Jan, with whom he thought my dad shared some common features.

Of course, there’s more to the story, including pictures… hope you’ll tune in for Part Two…