For seven years, Prague had an open home, a permaculture island in the city center, a community eco-hostel, a base for people in love with raw vegan food, a refuge for people who had set out on a new path. Vila Flora did not need a slogan. Everyone who lived there, everyone who visited it created their own slogan. Hundreds of people have imprinted themselves in this unique space created organically, like a growing garden, where people come and give their work as they feel called to. Some plant mint or currants, someone builds a compost bin and a greenhouse, someone digs a fireplace, a pond to collect rainwater, a vegetable bed and a herb spiral; somebody creates pallet seating, a clothes dryer, a hotel for insects; somebody sets up a podium in a corner, hangs flags and sings a song.
Gradually, the grassy plot with only grass & yew turns into an oasis of unrecognizable scents, where birds fly to drink in ponds, new & new types & colors of butterflies appear, bumblebees wonder how it is that so many species of rare weeds have appeared, hedgehogs run from the midnight street sniffing what happened on the compost today; cats do not have masters here, though they are at home; here they are born and they die.
But it’s people who love it there the most. For them, such a piece of nature is a temple where they go for healing, to rest under a clover leaf, to become children hidden among pebbles, between the flight and the fall on a trampoline. Although it is a small garden, people will find dozens of places where they meditate, where they practice with gusto, where dance is a way of life, and when a fire is lit, time stops.
A friend picked flowers, took water from a barrel and brought it inside, to the kitchen, to the bar. There, the tones of plants merge with the aroma of roasted pumpkins, sauerkraut, sweet dates & vinegar kombucha. There, their colors mix with the sounds of porcelain & laughter. The rustle of talks and the roar of a blender crushing sunflower seeds alternates with the rapid rhythm of multiple pairs of chopsticks tapping human joy into the table, gratitude into a carafe of water, and anticipation into a pot of soup. Then it shuts down. The flower from the garden realizes that it has become not only a garnish but also a salad, and proudly becomes the center of attention and receives quiet thanks in the middle of a circle of people holding hands.
Oh-ooh-uh. What did you say? Where am I? I arrived for a month. No, for 4 weeks. But something is wrong here. I used to think that the world outside was normal. I have a different opinion and you are happy? The questions are stopped by a crunch of switching amps, a tone of the string slips down and rises slowly, something whistles or sounds, fast & slow, music or a bunch of notes. Questions return: Is it serious, ancient, or as random as the bubbling of pickled vegetables? How does it actually work here? I thought nothing can work as long as no one is in charge. So, in the beginning was there a bacteria or a melody? It’s already midnight… I always leave the villa for about two or three hours. I would like a recording of this presence, exactly as it sounds, exactly as we are here now, with everything as a whole, because every detail is essentia; every fruit cake, every single raisin in a sweet, fizzy drink, each flax seed in raw sausage, every penny & crown in the chest, every button on the bed linen, every thought of a world full of humanity, every hug when circumstances seem difficult, when people leave, when we have to go to cold.
Hello, we have heard about Vila Flora and we would like to stay in a room with a balcony, we sent you travel letters to let you know about us, or if it’s possible, we would like to help you with anything here as volunteers, and maybe learn to ferment and grow tomatoes, or we can organize meetings, discussions, screenings, practice yoga, we also heard about celebrations full of geometric lights, colors, paintings & bass drums, nights full of long night barefoot dances, invisible fires, and we would like to buy early bird tickets or performed with our band of poets & magicians…
“Well, but, you know, it’s not possible anymore. We’re the new owners of this villa and we live here with our family.”
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