Back to Voloka's cemeteries
Once through the southern part of town we exited the main road and turned onto a smaller road that went under the main one and continued into Voloka. The first thing I noticed was the improvement in the quality of the road. This was seemed to be recently paved, was a little wider and smoother to drive on. It wasn’t perfect, but certainly better than most others I’d been on since arriving here. Voloka rests in a small valley, lined with rolling hills on either side. The homes here were very large with quite a few brand new “mansions’ under construction. But even with the immense size of the homes in the area, each still sat on a good sized plot of land and maintained a farm. I had heard from people that the majority of the vendors that were selling produce and things in the downtown market all came from Voloka. The Volokans here have a reputation of being very big capitalists and were enjoying the fruits of the endevours.
We made it to the village center and ask a young man mixing cement at a new home project if he could direct us to the local cemetery. We were already at the intersection so just had to make our way to the end of the street at the top of the hill. As we neared the top, the road began to narrow until it turned into a dirt road and finally to two well worn tire paths that went alongside the edge of the hillside. At the end of the path was a small gate with a few old crosses standing in a grove of trees. There was a small patch of dirt on a farm where we were able to pull over and turn the car around. My driver waited while I began searching through the overgrown cemetery. I went along the Eastern side of the fence and began to recognize many of the names on the stones and snapped pictures as fast as I could. When I got to the end, I worked my way back to the center of the cemetery where a path opened up and a clearing exposing more markers working their way up the hill. As I kept working my way uphill, the trees cleared exposing even more graves and finally I could see a small church at the very top of the hill. When I got nearer to the church, the graves at the top of the hill were so abundant and all out in the open, I was a little overwhelmed. It was just about this time the batteries in my camera died and I had filled the paper I had with notes. So I decided to call it a day and thought it would be easier for me to return tomorrow with more camera batteries and my laptop in hand so I could just take all day going through this place thoroughly.
I found Petru back at the cab and told him I was ready to go. He asked if we would head to Cuciurul-Mare now, but I told him I was ready to go back to Cheremosh. He was a little surprised I was ending my day early, but I was more than pleased with what I had done and seen.