Šajkačas and fur caps, combs in hair, tousled hairstyles, and rosy cheeks in the Parisian winter wind on Rue de Simplon. Serbs in Paris celebrated Christmas in joy, both in the Church of Saint Sava and outside it.
Outside the church, before midnight for the morning service, a long queue stretched out where people patiently waited for an entire hour to enter. Outside, people were drinking mulled wine and rakija. Trumpeters were setting the rhythm. Our tried-and-true brass section was there, heating up the cold air to a fever pitch. Serbian flags waved rhythmically.
A little further away, the sound of trumpets could still be heard. In the “Gabriel” orchestra, all the musicians were French. Their compatriot Alban Saran instilled in them a love for this music. The notes of the songs “Jutro je” (Morning Has Come) and “Veseli se srpski rode” echoed through Rue de Simplon. Mothers and grandmothers taught their children to dance the Serbian kolo along with the music.
The trumpeters played until late into the night. None of the neighbors complained. On the contrary, they came down the stairs to join in. The street was closed to traffic. Thousands of people gathered for the festive event. They were packed in like sardines. Police patrols occasionally circled the cheerful crowd to ensure everything was in order.
Neighbors and friends who hadn’t seen each other for months met from all over the multi-million-dollar Paris.
“Long live my brother!” they embraced each other.
Our food stores were open. People were buying delicacies for the big holiday. Many had been waiting for Christmas to indulge. At the stalls, “humanitarian rakija” was being poured.
“Countryman, have one!” a friendly mustachioed man urged us.
Lenten popcorn, mekike (a type of fried dough), and cakes, fried potatoes, sticks, and lollipops were also sold. Bags and decorations, handmade, t-shirts, mugs, and caps in Serbian colors. Serbian could be heard at every turn. Sometimes a Serbian cap was on someone’s head, but they spoke French. For the new generations born here, in a foreign land, it was somehow easier. But everyone here had a love for the Serbian people.
Outside, the trumpeters were celebrating. Toasts were made to the birth of Christ. Inside the church, it was solemn. From 6 pm on Christmas Eve, Bishop Justin served the Great Vespers, and from 10:30 pm, the Christmas Matins, with the co-service of the clergy of the cathedral church headed by Protopriest Stavrophor Nikola Škrbić.
The birth of Christ was welcomed at Matins through liturgical hymns and solemn songs. At midnight, the patriarch’s epistle was read, and the climax of the celebration was the Holy Liturgy on Christmas Day itself, served by Bishop Justin. At the end of the liturgy, gift bags were distributed to the children present in the church. The singing of the diocesan choir of Saint Simeon the Myrrhbearer contributed to the solemnity.
The Serbian sisters’ kolo distributed about four thousand Yule logs in the Church of Saint Sava in Paris, which had been specially brought from Serbia for this occasion. The members of the Kolo, along with a symbolic humanitarian contribution, also distributed Christmas wheat sown in hand-decorated containers.
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Source: Novosti.rs, Photo: Goran Čvorović