25 YEARS LATER Continuation. Beginning in No. 2,3,4,6
The morning was cool on that 12th day of the trip. We spent the night in the forest near the village Medriki. I didn't want to wake up: I felt tired from daily walking. However, the mood was good, as the place to spend the night was chosen without discussion. How many times have we been convinced of how much mood affects physical condition? Therefore, we set out on the route at 10.15, getting ready without haste. We even fixed something. After passing the town Soly, we entered the church. We sat there during the service. The organ sounded beautifully. The church was built before the war at the expense of the parishioners. The church drew attention
deviated from the main route – we went from Medriki to Soly, then to Osipany, Gaudevichi and Kushlyany. From Ivan's notes after a conversation with a village grandfather, whom we met by the road: "Well, let it be a stork with me...", – says the grandfather. He lifted the old frames on old trees near the house, but for some reason storks do not come to him. In July, he says, they are chased by bees. Not all neighbors like storks. But the magpie is not a hindrance: they managed to bring chicks. We try to reason: maybe the grandfather is not doing well with the energy, because the stork does not take root. His reasoning
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in 1900... His grave was in Zhuprany near the church in the cemetery. These are well-known facts now available online. They are noted in the diary. Franciszek Bohuszewicz Museum is located not far from the village, exactly where Franciszek Bohuszewicz estate was. We remember the beautiful landscapes around us, and how we walked along the alley to the gazebo. This is how they write about it on the Internet: "On the territory of the estate there is a park, the writer himself planted trees in it. One of the alleys, chestnut, leads to the
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to the memorial plaque of the local residents who died during the wars. Those we asked do not know where name Soly comes from. Even the elderly. Going to Kushlyany, we continued to count the storks: 56 already. We began to get confused about where we had spent the night earlier and what was remarkable there. Therefore, we wrote down something as a keepsake. In the morning of the same day, we listened to the radio program "Belarusian Youth": on April 26, our colleagues conducted a radio marathon dedicated to the 10th anniversary of the Chernobyl tragedy. Silence and grace in nature, a beautiful morning forest in which we spent the night, contributed to a good mood. To get to Kushlyany, the places associated with Franciszek B ohuszewicz, we
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about nationality: "We are Poles. After all, we go to the church and pray in Polish. We have a Polish faith. The parents were Poles. Poland was here until 1939"... But the poet Ales Zhamoitin has no doubts who he is. Meeting with Ales Zhamoitin, who wished us strength and light on the spiritual path. A r r i v i n g i n K u s h l y a n y, w e immediately go to the post office. We put a stamp: a sign that we were here. Then they found out where to find the local celebrity Ales Zhamoitin. The next stop is the museum-estate of Franciszek Bohuszewicz. We meet the caretaker, Regina Sidorovich, a very friendly woman. While we are waiting for Ales, she says that Franciszek Bohuszewicz was born in Svirany – now Vilnius region – on March 9, 1840. He studied at Vilnius gymnasium... He died
poet's favorite gazebo – the place of his creative inspiration on Lysaya Gora. Local historians claim that Bohuszewicz built it together with friends in memory of the victims of the uprising of 1863-64, in which he took an active part. Previously, there was a wooden cross in the pavilion (not preserved), and the place was called "Crucified Will". Nearby, at the edge of the forest, is another important element of the ensemble: the secret stone. They say that the Belarusian classic hid his manuscripts under it in order to avoid persecution for freethinking. After the death of the writer, an unknown master carved an inscription on the stone in memory of Maciej Burachka (Bohuszewicz's pseudonym). Finally, we waited for Ales Zhamoitin. Before that, by the way, we went to his house, but no one was there. We noticed: an ax lay in a bucket of water in the yard near the house. Apparently, the owner was going to chop wood. From his village experience, Ivan knows: an ax swells
