Balkan livin'

For the past seven days, lounging around on the beach was the activity of preferred choice. NO, it was the most important option of the day, even greater than bathing and changing clothes...

Before our trip to Croatia, I really didn't know too much about the place; the language, the customs, the history, heck, even the weather were all quite mysterious. In fact, here is a summary of what I did know about this often-misrepresented, Balkan nation:
1. It once was part of old Yugoslavia.
2. Because it was once a province of Yugoslavia, I inferred that one of the greatest engineering marvels ever to be pieced together by the hands of man originated from its rock, desolate hinterland: the YUGO automobile.
3. There was a terrible war there 10 years ago.
4. Jake Nelko's ancestry is Croatian.
5. During the steel mill era, there must have been lots of immigrants from Croatia, due to the ubiquitous, sun-faded 'Croatian Club' signs that dot the corners of every former mill town up the Ohio Valley.
6. There was a Crusade there in 1214 where Christians fought fellow Christians (Catholic vs. Orthodox).

that's about it...

Consequently, when I found out that about 5,ooo,ooo (a little exaggerated) Czechs go there every summer for vacation, I was very much surprised. Whenever they would say Croatia, my mind instantly went to an old photograph that I had seen in a book entitled, America in the Age of Genocide. The picture was taken some time in late nineties, during the war with Serbia, where many Croatians were being placed into work camps, where ultimately many of them would die due to malnutrition and brutality. In the forefront, there was a gaunt looking Croatian man, who was completely naked. I could see all of his ribs and his face was so sunken in that it appeared as if you could cut your fingers on the sharp angles that made up his jaw. He was bald, and propping him up, as I'm sure his knobby knees were not up to the challenge of holding up his bony frame, was a medical doctor. I couldn't believe the picture, because it seemed as if it should have appeared in some large collection of photographs from the holocaust. But, it wasn't from some long-off war where photos were black and white. I could see color. I could see the pain in his deep, brown eyes. I could even see the caked on dirt that made him appear darker than he really was. It wasn't a tan; the man was just filthy.

That was the Croatia that I knew and read about. Vacation destination did not fit into the picture...

When Jamie and I found out that we would have about two weeks in August to travel, we initially wanted to wander over to Slovakia and hike in the beautiful Tatra Mountains. But we jumped on the idea of Croatia for two reasons: one, our friends from Camp Willson (Laura and Ben) were working there for the summer; and two, I hadn't been to the beach in about 3 years. Croatia also afforded us the opportunity to 'Czechify' ourselves even more, by engaging in a rite of Czech culture: taking a tour bus to your vacation spot ( we ended up being the only non-czech citizens on the bus, which made for a few comical situations at the border control, when the drivers thought EVERYONE was Czech; they were a little bit surprised to find that two Americans were amongst the sea of Bohemians...).

Jamie and I rode a 17-hour bus all the way to the city of Split, Croatia ( by the way, Croatia might have the coolest town/city names in the world) on the southern coast. We drove through Austria and Slovenia to get there (it still amazes me how small Europe really is: we cruise through countries like they are nothing but states). Split is quite fascinating, because it was the location for the Palace of the Roman emperor Diocletian, so some of the buildings there are over 1,500 years old. Amazing, right!? Who would of thought that in Croatia I would see ionic pillars and Roman tile work? Split was quite touristy and seemed as if it was the popular vacation destination for hordes of Germans, Czechs, Polish and Italians. People say that 10 years ago, it was a completely different story,because of the fighting going on in the country side: you would never have guessed it from the sleek, trendy shoe boutiques and the seaside cafes that served up some pretty over-priced wine. The city center is one large pedestrian zone, so we could effectively walk anywhere we wanted without the fear of getting hit by some manic driver. Also, it was great staring at the pavement of the city, as it appeared that most of the stones had been placed there during its Roman foundation: gigantic white blocks that were so worn that you could easily slide on them, as if they were well-polished, wooden floors.

Most of our day was spent walking back and forth from the city to the beach. Jamie, Laura, Ben and I claimed a little section of the coast as or own by naming a slab of stone "English Rock," because each day it seemed as if there were either English, Australians or Americans sunbathing on it (one of the more interesting aspects of the Adriatic Sea, is how calm it is. There are no sand beaches along the shoreline, because the sea itself does not create enough force to wear rocks into small particles of base minerals. So, when you go to a Croatian 'beach', you have to expect it to be made up of stones or fairly large rock-outcroppings that drop right into the sea: this makes for some good 'cliff diving' into the water.) The water itself was beautiful shades of turquoise, emerald and deep blue; Jamie and I took advantage of this by using our goggles and exploring some of the life that pulsated under the slight ripples of the sea. It was truly fantastic.

About halfway through our week in Split, we all decided to take a bus to a different location about 15 miles north, to a town called Trogir. From Trogir (a beautiful medieval-era island city fit with monasteries, numerous churches and an old fort), we walked about one mile to an 'auto camp', where we pitched a tent and spent the next three nights sleeping along the coast under a few, sap-filled pine trees (sap is a pain to clean). It was so peaceful and quiet; we could sleep, read, eat and swim without the distraction of numerous tourists and drunk party-goers.

During my time in Europe, I have come to realize that my worldview and many of my opinions have their root and their sustenance in the soil of American culture, and when I am separated from that American cultural paradigm, I see that there are people in this world who legitimately do not think like me or American people. There are so many examples that it would be hard to name a few, but one that was consistently thrown back in my face, on this past vacation, was how 'Victorian' our culture is in regards to sexuality. In many Europen countries, it is completely normal to see male and female nudity on television or in movies. Now, for Americans, we usually block that out, or relegate it to HBO; however, in direct contrast to us, Europeans are much more uncomfortable with violence: often times I see a very graphic seen of CSI or from some American film, which would be completely acceptable for viewing eyes in the States, edited or scrambled out. In Croatia, I also learned that this laxity in regards to sex transfers over into the appropriate bathing suit attire.

It breaks down like this:

Children: there is no need for a bathing suit at all
Women (ages 16-55): Bikini style suit. No top.
Men: very small speedos that do not cover up backsides (or much of the front for that matter)

-You get the picture?