Araca Cathedral

Date: February 15 2006
Authors: Iva Cukic & Lazar Pascanovic

The morning looked promising: a couple of clouds and a thin ray of winter sun, just enough to lure us out of our warm den. When we finally walked away from Novi Sad and found ourselves in the middle of Nowhere, the Day showed its real face and Nothing disappeared into the mist. In the frozen plain, invisible in the mist, Aracha was waiting.

The first car picked us up and we soon arrived to Temerin. The mist was already so thick that one could hardly discern the houses on the other side of the street. After a while, the second car picked us up and left us on the picture, actually on the place that you can see on the picture below.

Frost, wind, cold. No cars in sight. Visibility - a couple of meters. Experienced hitchhikers will no doubt recognize what is called the Ideal Spot. After a sober look at the circumstances, consideration of all the pros and cons, remembering the words of great men and thorough analysis of the situation, we chose the only possible strategy: we dug out the bottle from our backpack and started seeking oblivion before it finds us.

If the time had been flowing, we would've said "after a while" - but as things were, we can only say: a small truck stopped, full of electricians, who gave us a lift to Backo Gradiste. A couple of minutes later we hitched a ride on a truck going to Senta, but we got off in Becej where we met Mr Cveyin, a talkative history teacher, who gave us a lift to Novi Becej.

There we saw a nice graveyard emerging from the white Something, bought 4 cereal bars with chocolate (48 dinars, which was, at the same time, the complete budget for this trip) and set off, on foot, towards the turning for Aracha which was, according to our navigational instruments (aka "instinct"), to be found some 7 or maybe 12 kilometers away. Finally we got picked up by a truck and, after only 10 minutes of ride, when we saw Crna Bara (Black Puddle) in the distance, we let the driver know that we'd like to get off. He didn't seem confused by our demand, so we got off.

From that point on, the road leads through the endless fields. The frozen land silently crackles under the soles, the sluggish streaks of mist drag themselves over the frosty tilths. The line of the horizon sneaked within the couple hundred meters, and lurks. Just after a couple of steps, we completely disappeared into the mist.

It is said that Aracha, as the tallest structure in that area, in some tamer weather conditions, can be seen even from the ruined train station of Crna Bara, and can easily be reached, guided by the silhouette on the horizon. Once again, we used the certified Indian methods and headed straight there without hesitation. Yes, there, straight ahead. Whatever "ahead" meant in that moment. The mist was still being unconcernedly dragged around by the wind, and the monotony of the landscape was only broken by a couple of rabbits and roedeers which our senses (sharpened by fire-water) quickly spotted in the amazing sameness of the area. No mention of any kind of flora, except for some kind of thistle stubbornly getting caught on our trouser sleeves.

Either because the stubbornness pays off, or because the luck loves drunken hitchhikers, at one point a blurry stain appeared on the horizon. A couple more steps and a couple thousand thistles, and we arrived to the phantom temple. Dead silence, just a wind whistling around our ears. The cathedral, being the object of the largest mass in this area, grasps you with a hypnotic power. Soon, we are there.

Today, the cathedral is inhabited by birds and names carved into the walls. The oldest signature we found was 98 years old. As for the years of the birds, we have no idea, nor did we try to find out. The inner clock suggested it was late morning so there was no reason to rush (the inner clock, of course, because the outer parameters, such as lightning, the amount of Sun in the sky or the concentration of mist in the air were more or less constant ever since we left Novi Sad, a couple of minutes after 6 AM). We are going inside...

The story ends just as it began, but in the opposite direction. Back through the fields, this time under the incredibly blue sky because the mist, when we got out of the cathedral, vanished completely, even the sun showed its face and started to mellow the earth and melt the frost patterns on our clothes. Once again we are standing in front of the Crna Bara station, with a thumb in the air... After a couple of cars and trucks, having refreshed our knowledge of the newest folk music hits, we are back in Novi Sad, at 6 PM sharp, just as the chilly winter darkness starts lingering in the air.