Staying with Farmers in the Serbian Mountains Revealed Their High Standard of Living

Tara National Park is a significant point in southern Serbia, and tourists visiting Serbia basically have to come and see it. There are dense primeval forests, high and distant skies, winding rivers, emerald lakes, and wooden cabins in the forest – for people who love nature, here they will feel like fish in water.

Along the way, I've been directly booking guesthouses online, and in Tara National Park, I've been staying in small wooden cabins in the forest. These cabins belong to private companies, with unified management, or to local farmers who have offered their spare rooms for a bit of income. We booked the room of the old farmer, which was the latter.

The car drove into the mountains, and I saw scattered wooden cabins in the forest. I was thrilled, almost rolling on the grass. Everywhere were wildflowers, and the companions had picked up a lot, preparing to take pictures later.

I couldn't pinpoint the exact location of the farmer's house, so I called. It took about ten minutes, and an old, dilapidated car sped away, with the farmer's white beard and hair protruding from the window, shouting unintelligible Serbian at us.

It turned out that the farmer's house was listed online, and his English-speaking son and guests communicated through it. The son works in another city, and the farmer is in charge of receiving guests.

The farmer waved his hand, indicating that we should go back, and the car flew back for a long distance at the same speed as when we came, until it slowed down to a wide road – the bird-like uncle said: This old driver drives fiercely!

I nodded, and the farmer drove out a momentum of 'Ten Thousand Rolls to Flatten the Plateau!'

The farmer's house.

To be honest, I was a little disappointed when I first saw it. There was a makeshift shelter at the entrance of the house, and the grass was largely occupied by a vegetable greenhouse. There was also clothes drying and a water pipe, and several small trees and a large pond. It was quite lived-in, even a little messy – in short, it wasn't elegant, it wasn't concise, and it wasn't as I imagined – it wasn't fairy-tale-like.

But 'come, stay'.

This tree with its heavily laden fruit soon won my favor. The shape of the fruit resembled persimmon, but the surface was as fluffy as peach, I translated software and communicated with the farmer painstakingly, asking the farmer: What is this tree? Can the fruit be eaten?

The farmer spent a long time searching on his phone, and told us: We call it peach, it hasn't ripened yet, it can't be eaten.

I asked again: What color does the fruit turn when it's ripe? I think it turns yellow and it's ripe, then we can eat it.

The farmer's phone translated: Deep yellow.

I estimated that the so-called deep yellow should be orange-red. I looked at the farmer's expression, and probably feared that I would mistakenly think he was unwilling to give me.

The farmer's dog wagged its tail when it saw us, and then transformed into a big brother, lying flat on the grass, watching the little chickens under it.

In the farmer's house, there were only the two old people and their son. When we arrived, the room hadn't been fully cleaned, and the old couple hurried to change the sheets and bedding. The old couple also kept apologizing to me while they were busy.

The farmer called the old lady 'Magi'. I heard it twice, and I understood it. Every time I tried to call her 'Magi', she would laugh and hug me, and she would be very happy and intimate.

Actually, Magi is a shy old lady – no, Magi is 64 years old, thin, and looks very young, so it's impossible to say she's an old lady.

The farmer's apples were small but very sweet and crisp. I, who had never liked apples, ate one because of the farmer's enthusiastic invitation.

The farmer's vegetable garden grows peppers, tomatoes and cucumbers.

Young Jade saw it and said: 'I'll pick some chili leaves to make a soup.' I was surprised: 'Chili leaves can be eaten?!'

I was also surprised by Magi, who was puzzled and full of wonder, just like me: 'Can chili leaves be eaten?!' She had never heard of it! However, I believed Jade's cooking skills, and I told Magi: 'When we make the meal, please taste it.'

Our lunch was roasted pork with green peppers, tomato and egg, fried chicken nuggets and cucumber salad, chili leaf egg soup. The tomatoes and cucumbers were freshly picked from the farmer's garden.

Magi, who had already eaten, wanted to taste chili leaves, so she joined us for lunch. She kept praising – perhaps most of the praise was out of courtesy, but I think there must be a meaning that 'the wonderful Chinese people can make anything edible' in it!

The farmer's old man treated the old lady with respect. No matter what he did, he had to consult the old lady. We picked a lot of cucumbers, peppers and tomatoes from her garden, and asked how much money to pay. The farmer first consulted Magi, and Magi shook her head repeatedly, so he told us not to pay.

It seems that Magi controls the farmer's family's economy.

Peach pie. Pure original flavor, a little sour, not sweet enough for me. Everyone was too full after lunch, and there was a lot of leftover sweet pie.

The next day, when we were packing our luggage, I told the bird-like uncle: 'Even if we don't eat it, we should take it back.'

We couldn't let it be wasted because of the farmer's kindness!

The windows were bright and clean. Magi picked wildflowers and arranged them in a bottle.

The living standards of Serbians were higher than I imagined. Although the farmer lived in the mountains, he had a fully automatic washing machine, oven, microwave and electric stove – everything we had in the city was here, nothing was lacking.

Because it was winter in the mountains, there was a large fireplace in the living room.

On the small table, there was a wooden tray with a few dried peaches. I quickly ate half of them.

The farmer's old man treated the old lady with respect. No matter what he did, he had to consult the old lady. We picked a lot of cucumbers, peppers and tomatoes from her garden, and asked how much money to pay. The farmer first consulted Magi, and Magi shook her head repeatedly, so he told us not to pay.

It seems that Magi controls the farmer's family's economy.

Peach pie. Pure original flavor, a little sour, not sweet enough for me. Everyone was too full after lunch, and there was a lot of leftover sweet pie.

The next day, when we were packing our luggage, I told the bird-like uncle: 'Even if we don't eat it, we should take it back.'

We couldn't let it be wasted because of the farmer's kindness!

The windows were bright and clean. Magi also picked wildflowers and arranged them in a bottle.

The living standards of Serbians were higher than I imagined. Although the farmer lived in the mountains, he had a fully automatic washing machine, oven, microwave and electric stove – everything we had in the city was here, nothing was lacking.

Because it was winter in the mountains, there was a large fireplace in the living room.

On the small table, there was a wooden tray with a few dried peaches. I quickly ate half of them.

The farmer's old man treated the old lady with respect. No matter what he did, had to consult the old lady. We picked a lot of cucumbers, peppers and tomatoes from her garden, and asked how much money to pay. The farmer first consulted Magi, and Magi shook her head repeatedly, so he told us not to pay.

It seems that Magi controls the farmer's family's economy.

Peach pie. Pure original flavor, a little sour, not sweet enough for me. Everyone was too full after lunch, and there was a lot of leftover sweet pie.

The next day, when we were packing our luggage, I told the bird-like uncle: 'Even if we don't eat it, we should take it back.'

We couldn't let it be wasted because of the farmer's kindness!

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