Paradise Foundv
Tilaj (pronounced Tilloy)
Tilaj (pronounced Tilloy)
is a sleepy little village that lies amongst the rolling wooded hills of western Hungary; and it was there, last Saturday, whilst visiting its annual summer festival, that I experienced something that came as a very pleasant surprise!
On and off, I have known Tilaj for about the last fifteen years; and, in all of these years, I have seen much change, but, unfortunately, not in the right direction! What I had been witnessing had been the sadness of on-going decline. House after house had given-in to the ever on-going advances of nettles and weeds, and there was desertion and decay wherever you looked. Tillaj, I believed, was fast becoming an historical fact!
But I was thankfully wrong and my eyes were opened last week! The festival was not unlike countless others. There was wine and beer to be had, there was pop-corn and there was candy-floss, too. In the way of entertainment there were four or five groups of well practised young women performing well rehearsed dances to music of everyone’s taste; but, for me, the real stars of the afternoon were the children of Tilaj.
Their dancing act was marked by the usual disarray that is special to such occasions. The very smallest of them were turning one way, whilst the older kids were going the other way; but that’s how these things are, and everybody loved them. And everyone loved them because they were there! At last there were children, and a fair number of them, too!
And then I looked around. The nettles and the weeds, it seems, are not so much as before, and paint once again is re-appearing on some of the houses, and the best sign of all, a new bus stop is under construction; meaning, of course, there is movement. And, of course, there are the children.
Life has returned to Tilaj paradise has been re-gained!
On and off, I have known Tilaj for about the last fifteen years; and, in all of these years, I have seen much change, but, unfortunately, not in the right direction! What I had been witnessing had been the sadness of on-going decline. House after house had given-in to the ever on-going advances of nettles and weeds, and there was desertion and decay wherever you looked. Tillaj, I believed, was fast becoming an historical fact!
But I was thankfully wrong and my eyes were opened last week! The festival was not unlike countless others. There was wine and beer to be had, there was pop-corn and there was candy-floss, too. In the way of entertainment there were four or five groups of well practised young women performing well rehearsed dances to music of everyone’s taste; but, for me, the real stars of the afternoon were the children of Tilaj.
Their dancing act was marked by the usual disarray that is special to such occasions. The very smallest of them were turning one way, whilst the older kids were going the other way; but that’s how these things are, and everybody loved them. And everyone loved them because they were there! At last there were children, and a fair number of them, too!
And then I looked around. The nettles and the weeds, it seems, are not so much as before, and paint once again is re-appearing on some of the houses, and the best sign of all, a new bus stop is under construction; meaning, of course, there is movement. And, of course, there are the children.
Life has returned to Tilaj paradise has been re-gained!
My e-mail address is, njmailboy@gmail.com
