As I travelled through Transylvania, the search for my sister was unexpectedly impeded by a rather challenging obstacle: I wasn’t able to get any useful information out of the locals. As soon as they looked at me they whispered ‘deochi’ and clammed up. At first I had no idea what they meant, but finally a trader from Germany I met in a tavern explained to me that the source of my troubles were… my own eyes. To be precise, their violet hue.
Yes, my extraordinary eyes had been something of a nuisance to me in the past, drawing unwanted attention or making me stand out from the crowd. But this was the first time I became a victim of the superstition that some people have an ‘evil eye’. Or ‘deochi’, as the locals called it.