I’ve got 15 minutes until breakfast and more to say than I have time for. Knowing myself and my habits, I probably won’t write about Christian again while we are here. I’d like to think that I’d reflect on the entire stay, and what better way to reflect than to write, but I will probably be worried about confirming the next hostel and checking our tickets and packing and saying goodbye.
Have you ever heard about throat singing? In high school, there was a teacher (not mine) who brought in a documentary about throat singing for his class. It was probably kind of like this:
The two other WWOOFers here are 19-year-old girls from Sweden, who studied music and then decided to travel during the dark Swedish spring. Christian, who has many interests outside of winemaking, is very interested in music and asked if they’d heard of this phenomenon, of which he couldn’t prescribe a name. Untalented me is sitting across from him mumbling “throat singing” to no avail, but that’s no matter. He took us to the cellar to practice. “You & Kuba can watch,” he advised. Thanks for the confidence, C.
In Christian’s wine cellar, there are many storage and processing tanks for the wine – there are about 4 concrete tanks, where the juice is first stored for a few days, and then there are the other tanks where the juice is allowed to ferment. The concrete tanks right now, of course, are empty. This is Christian’s music hall.
We stood in curiosity and awe as the giant wine maker in his red fleece and cargos approached the concrete tank, opened the swinging metal window, and stuck his head inside. “Eeeeeeeuuuuuuuuuuueeeeeeeeuuuuuuuu…” he carried on like this for a solid minute. We stifled our laughter and asked him, when he finished, how he managed to do that without taking a breath. “I’m dead,” he said with a laugh.
So the house is haunted…