Finding Strength in Semič: A Story of People Who Give Their All

My Workcamp Experience

Between the 26th and the 31st of September we were part of an SCI camp where we got to know Rok and his association for Paraplegics, as well as some of the members.

From my perspective it went something like this …

On the 26th we met in Ljubljana, and as everyone started getting into the car, I was still running to the bus—late as always. Whilst running for my life I regretted packing so much, which was now hitting me in the back with full backpack power. But as I reached the bus,

I saw that everyone else was just as packed as I was, and they hadn’t even driven off yet, so I was lucky. After quickly greeting some people on the bus, I sat next to a nice Slovene lady called Zdenka. With her broken English and my non-existent Slovene, we concluded that my backpack needed to go in the back.

There it sat, together with Dennis (a member), Angela (the not-so-talkative Mexican volunteer who, as we quickly realized, did not in fact speak English), Isabelle (whose name I remembered from her own words: “Je m’appelle Isabelle”), and of course Rok himself.

There was another bus with Sophia, Luca, and his personal assistant Matej. Zsuzsa, who arrived in her own car, was a friendly Hungarian volunteer.

The trip started, and our friendly driver drove us to Semič, the place we would be staying at for the next week. The house looked nice, clean, and had a beautiful, rich and colorful garden. As soon as we unloaded the luggage and helped the Para- & Quadriplegic who were staying with us at the house, we went grocery shopping. Transportation was… interesting. Normally, loading up the car means putting everything in bags and into the trunk. In this case, it literally meant rolling the shopping carts via ramp into the minibus. While driving back to the house, we held onto the carts like our lives depended on it—especially for Rok, who sat behind one cart and held it in place.

After unloading, we moved into our rooms and started to unpack a bit. Getting too comfortable came back to haunt me though: while I was settling into the volunteers’ room, all the mosquitoes of Semič decided to fly into our shared bedroom of four.

To end the day nicely we drove to a nearby lake where we—the volunteers—could literally step over into Croatia. As Juri, another member who had arrived in his own car, explained: one side of the lake was Slovenia and the other was already Croatia. After pouncing onto the ordered pizza like hungry bears, we went for a quick Croatian “immigration” and then came back the same way.

Back at the house, while making plans to befriend the wild cats circling the fire pit, the French lady (of course) had already found some wine and cheese. The day was over and we went to bed —only to be woken up by every mosquito Semič had to offer. That night I collected around six bites, but little did I know there were many more to come…

The days in Semič were extremely chill. We, the volunteers, made breakfast. Andor and Niek arrived—two other paraplegics who are also part of the association. By 4 p.m. the second bottle of Jägermeister was opened, as the first was already almost empty from the night before. That day we didn’t quite befriend the cats, but they got closer to us—as did the alcoholism. That night I ended up sleeping on the couch. With nowhere else to flee, it was my only hiding place from the emperors of hell—also known as mosquitoes.

Cooling the bites with canned herring fillets didn’t really help, so I moved to the couch, where I was woken up in the morning by the sliding elevator door. Yes—the old house had an elevator. It was perfectly equipped for para- and Quadraplegics.

In Rok’s presentation the next day we learned about the different ways people can become

paralyzed after a spinal cord injury. Some of the members told their stories—mostly shocking, but showing how much life can change with just one happening.

Throughout the week we met the neighbor—the ex-mayor of Semič, who owns his own winery.

Isabelle (the French volunteer—who had found cheese and wine within hours of arriving) had bought wine from him and gotten the address  for the “cheese man,” as we called him. These very friendly “cheese people” later visited us as we bought more wine, and even brought Isabelle and our camp fresh vegetables. Too nice! To complete the friendliness of Semič’s townspeople, the next day we were invited on a horse-carriage tour through the village.

We ended up at a fairytale- like abandoned mill where a waterfall dropped into a water-lily-covered pool that overflowed into a river clear as glass. The cold, sparkling water revealed a floor of ferns swaying gently in the current. On the way back we passed the industrial side of Semič, which was at least as beautiful —if not more so—though I can’t quite comprehend how, so I won’t even try to describe it. There was a big construction site and, thanks to Andor translating from Slovene, a promise of 1,000 new job opportunities.

On Friday some of the volunteers headed up the hill for an adventurous hike. I, of course, needed an extra sausage—as we say in Germany—meaning special treatment. On the way to the first signpost I got stung three times and decided to go back for bug spray (thank you, Zsuzsa, for saving my skin). After sweating up the hill, petting a kitten, invading private property for the view, and almost breaking into a church, we scuffled back down—this time through less hiking-friendly terrain. On the original path we encountered a winery, their garden, and a spontaneous butt-slide party.

Exhausted and drenched in sweat, we finally reached the house. After refreshing ourselves with a quick nap and preparing food with Zdenka and Rok’s newly arrived personal assistant, we went to the festival happening in Semič that weekend.

There we saw a young (really young) rock band—the lead singer was only 14! Surprisingly, they were pretty good, and we cheered to our week with some Slovene beer. After trying ‘palačinka’ and ‘krompirček’ we went back to the house. The next morning we woke with slight hangovers but enough motivation to see the brass band that was playing that day. A weird combination, but it worked.

That evening, before going to the concert, I made a tough decision: to stop the constant itching I had to burn myself—or more precisely burn out the mosquito poison. Unfortunately, it meant the same thing. After losing some skin to a heated knife, we met again in the common room to end the work camp. Rok handed us certificates, which was really nice.

In total I can say I learned a lot about spinal cord injuries—like that 70% of patients are men and only 30% women, mostly due to risky behavior. Every paraplegic has a different degree of paralysis, and all of them are extremely strong-minded to navigate a world that is clearly not made for them. One unexpected thing I learned: some can’t eat tacos, as their hands are paralyzed and not functional enough to hold them properly. So—no South American food that day 🙁 But they managed, as they always do.

P.S. In total I counted 30 mosquito bites on my body. I don’t know about the others, but the Semič mosquitoes definitely had a feast while we were there. Still—despite the bites—we had a blast!