A poem for Krivi Put

A poem for Krivi Put
by Meghan Hesterman

It is quiet and quaint
smells like an apple orchard, with windmills purring in the background
birds singing their morning greetings.

As I walk around the church
Built in 1832
Where my family married, got baptized, and grew,

I see tinsel littering the ground like sparkling pine cones
The soft pink and yellow tones are comforting,
like a warm hug in the chilly air.

Then, we see a local gentleman
We ask for the key, pass a phone
back and forth, and
we slowly build a connection
He teaches us about the church and the town. . .

Inside, the church is small but precious
A golden display hangs in the back
Above six rows of wooden pews
Humble, beautiful icons hang on its white walls
Showing the stations of the cross.

As I walk up to the altar, church bells
ring brightly and softly
I breathe in the crisp air
thinking of my family
that once lived here.

After closing the church door,
We walk to the cemetery
Where perfectly preserved graves
Fill the small, peaceful space

Prpič, Tomljanovič, and Šojat
are the common names
I wonder how many ancestors are laid here
Among the flowers, stone,
and gentle flames?

Our new friend invites us for coffee
Later, three cappuccinos and
Google translate conversations
Our cousin was a governor
His grandfather made brandy
Snippets here and there
As we piece together our family history.

He is kind and patient,
Like all Croatians I have
encountered so far
Finally, he says “It’s an honor”
And shakes our hands in farewell.

It feels like Christmas morning
Standing where they stood,
Walking where they strolled,
A privilege wrapped in a velvet bow.

Krivi Put, it was a pleasure meeting you.
I will hold you and your rolling hills close forever
Doviđenja, my friend.

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This weekend, my parents and I traveled to Krivi Put, Croatia: a very small, quaint mountain town near the Adriatic Coast. 

Part of my mother's family originated from this town. Our family has traced back several relatives who were baptized in the beautiful local church (shown in the photos below).  Everyone in the surrounding area recognizes the family name, Perpich (or traditionally spelled Prpič). It was surreal to say the least to walk through the town where my great-grandparents and other distant relatives lived. We instantly built connections with anyone we shared our family history with.

I decided to share this story to show the serenity and beauty of my family's ancestral home. This  emotional day serves as a personal moment in this "professional" trip. I hope you enjoy the poem I wrote while walking around the town. "A poem for Krivi Put" documents my observations and recollections of the day in a town that I will always hold close to my heart.

I also want to acknowledge the immense privilege of traveling to an ancestral site like Krivi Put. It is a privilege to have rich access to family history and ancestry, and it is a privilege to travel to ancestral sites.

(The photos above are all from Krivi Put and show the church, cemetery, and local café bar mentioned in the poem.)

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