Mateja

She came to the village in a dark grey Kia hatchback. Her young Chinese car looked sporty: big rims, low-profile tires, tinted windows, and sharp lines running from front to back, visually lowering it even more.
From the balcony of my old limestone house, I watched her approach.
She sped over a sandy, stony stretch of road and then straight into the grass. There was no road there, but she must have seen my car under the shed and turned toward it. She parked between the vegetable garden and the concrete steps.
The door opened, and slender, tan legs in perfectly clean New Balance sneakers stepped out.

“Hello! How was the drive up here?” I shouted.
“I didn’t find your house right away, but I’m here. It’s so surprising — my grandfather lived nearby,” she pointed east. “Over there! Over that mountain!” she said, walking toward the balcony. “When I was a kid, I spent every summer with him, but I haven’t been there in 23 years!”

She wore a black T-shirt and black shorts. The temperature outside was +29°C. I wondered if she was wearing black because she knew I photograph people in black clothes, or if it was just a coincidence. I moved the interview table out of the sun.

“Nice to meet you. My name’s Arnest,” I said, offering my hand along with a glass of water.
“Nice to meet you too. Mateja,” she replied, clinking her glass against mine.

What do you do?
I have my own brand, Franchela. I started five years ago. At first, I made backpacks, but now I focus on big grocery bags.

She began talking about supermarkets, single-use bags, and ecological disaster, but I didn’t manage to write it down. I was distracted by my pigeon, Sasha, who had landed on the balcony railing and was drinking from my glass. I waved him off and returned to the interview.

Do you have a hobby?
Yes, I danced jazz ballet and hip-hop for 17 years, she said, crossing her clean-shaven legs.
What’s the difference between classical ballet and jazz ballet?
Jazz ballet combines the precision and techniques of ballet with the fluidity of jazz — more relaxed, more free — but still technically very similar.

Sasha jumped from the patio umbrella and landed on Mateja’s knees. I hope he won’t shit on her, I thought.

What’s your philosophy?
Live and let live! Mateja said, patting Sasha’s head with a smile.

What ways of communication do you understand or feel better than speaking?
Vision. Eyes can tell everything.

If you could choose a superpower, what would it be?
Invisibility.

What laws would you like to change?
The law on self-employment. I have to pay 500 euros every month, no matter if I earn anything. If I go on holiday or get sick and can’t work, I still have to pay the 500.
And I hate when they build new supermarkets where there are already fifteen others. They should invest in something better! I’d also change prison terms. I don’t agree that someone who steals a pack of cigarettes should get a longer sentence than someone who kills.

I understand and agree. In Belarus, there’s a provision — 382d — where you can be sentenced to 15 years in prison for having 0.001 mg of marijuana on you. For some invisible dust, you could go to jail longer than for murder.
Mateja was clearly shocked. She didn’t even seem to believe it was possible.

What questions do you want answers to?
Not for the record.
Okay, I said, making notes. I won’t publish her answer, of course.

What’s your everyday ritual?
I always wake up between 4:30 and 6:00. Mornings are calm. Everyone is still asleep, nobody posts anything on Instagram. I make myself coffee and read something on the computer. Nothing and no one can bother me in the morning.

Why did you decide to participate in the project?
I’d been thinking about it for a long time, and I realized it’s exactly what I need. I like the idea of the project, and I like the way you live — with all your animals. I knew it would be a therapeutic meeting.