This is what I heard this evening on my evening of tea, coffee and cake (to which my comment of "But I'm not hungry" was met with "It doesn't matter - you don't need to be hungry to eat").
"Ja ne prodajem zjake."
"I don't sell...what?" I asked my aunt and my Mama and was faced with two women in their 70s staring at me wide open eyes and wide open mouths, all teeth showing. Almost frightening on a dark Zagreb backstreet - if they hadn't been almost croaking with laughter. I couldn't help laughing either, but still had no idea what on earth they were saying. It turns out they were gawping at me. 'Zjake' means gawps - when someone is gawping. The phrase means "I don't sell gawps." All part of learning about Croatian culture...
I might write some more about what I've learned about Croatian culture. Being here has made me realise how much of who I am is actually Croatian and not just a bit odd. It feels like I have finally come home. I am among people who are the same as me. It's wonderful. A country full of me! :-)
the random ponderings of an ordinary person
Wednesday, 7 July 2010
Tuesday, 6 July 2010
PS It's not a myth - chocolate does help
Any packages containing dark chocolate and hazelnuts are always most welcomed.
I am not superwoman
Today is one of those days where everything seems to tip me over the edge. Danas sam bila na rubu. I think this is how it's said. The slightest words of comfort or understanding and my eyes well up, so it has been a sunglasses day!
The grammar is hard for me and as this is the first two hours of every day, each day, for me, starts with something I feel cannot do. I find this very demoralising. I came home and studied until late last night, though I did have a wonderful with conversation with the exceptionally funny and kind man in my life, which definitely cheered me up.
I have to keep telling myself, firmly, that I must focus on my current objectives:
JULY
The grammar is hard for me and as this is the first two hours of every day, each day, for me, starts with something I feel cannot do. I find this very demoralising. I came home and studied until late last night, though I did have a wonderful with conversation with the exceptionally funny and kind man in my life, which definitely cheered me up.
I have to keep telling myself, firmly, that I must focus on my current objectives:
JULY
- learn more Croatian (not all Croatian)
- spend time with my aunt and my Mama
- do things that keep me happy
- run from time to time and do yoga when I can
- sleep enough and eat healthily
- chat with the exceptionally funny and kind man in my life
- read books and watch films in English or Croatian
- apply for jobs (not necessarily find one immediately)
- think of other ways to survive in case the job is not forthcoming immediately (when I return apply for temping jobs, and for grants and loans)
- sort out all course related stuff
- do things that make me happy (as above)
Sunday, 4 July 2010
Grmljevina!!! Thunder!!
Grmi, sijeva, vrijeme se mjenja, a ciganke varošanke još iz sela nema.
It's thundering, it's lightening, the weather is changing, and the gypsy town woman has not come back from begging in the village.
Academic quarter
Having a discussion with my big brother about Spanish time and how it seems to run more slowly than in the UK or, perhaps, more quickly, such that everyone is always late and everything takes ages to happen. Not sure what is going on, but things are always slow. We agreed that Croatian time is also like this.
When we started the Kulturni Program, they told us that one thing we needed to be aware of in Croatian culture is that everyone is always late, but that because our programme is so tight, we are only allowed to be five minutes late, maximum.
Apparently, according to my Mama, there is an 'academic quarter' in Croatia, which allows lecturers to be 15 minutes late at all times, although the students must always be on time. It seems that the relaxed timings in Croatia are also hierarchical - you must earn the privilege to be late.
Well there we are, this is my latest on Croatian culture.
When we started the Kulturni Program, they told us that one thing we needed to be aware of in Croatian culture is that everyone is always late, but that because our programme is so tight, we are only allowed to be five minutes late, maximum.
Apparently, according to my Mama, there is an 'academic quarter' in Croatia, which allows lecturers to be 15 minutes late at all times, although the students must always be on time. It seems that the relaxed timings in Croatia are also hierarchical - you must earn the privilege to be late.
Well there we are, this is my latest on Croatian culture.
Saturday, 3 July 2010
My feet are clearly beautiful
So I was sitting in Zrinjevac happily reading my book and I hear a click. I look up to see a man taking a photo of my feet, resting on the bench in front of me. I glare at him and he puts his hands together and bows smiling at me, Japanese style. He is not Japanese. I can't help smiling back.
There's always a silver lining :-)
In among so much change, some parts of life carry on as normal.
My brain is starting to scramble languages and sometimes people speak Croatian and I think they've been speaking English. I guess this is a good sign, because it means my comprehension is switching sides. The air is warm and muggy and I am reminded of when I lived here, so many years ago, in different times when Croatia was still, officially, Yugoslavia. The sounds outside take me back to another time and the skinny street cats too. Everything here feels different to me, yet somehow the same as some other life I once had.
Those around me are familiar now, but not from my normal life. The thing is, my normal life, as was, is gone. The home I had, the job I had too, quite probably, and I will start the last stage of my counselling training when I return with a new group of people: people who are strangers to me right now, but who, in a few months, will know things about me that more than 99% of the world will never know.
Everything feels uncertain and my association with this changes, like waves on the shore. Each moment feels different - sometimes I am excited about what might be, sometimes uncertain and afraid, sometimes fearful that I won't find a job, sometimes concerned about how I will live, sometimes sure that all will be okay as it always has been okay and sometimes just nothing except wondering what will be and that, really, is something none of us knows for sure.
My belly has been bloated and I started to worry I might be pregnant, momentarily, (a thought that passes every woman's mind every so often). I then dreamt I was and the feeling felt so familiar (even though I never have been) that I awoke knowing I wasn't. I felt too different in waking life to how I felt in my dream. Funny how clever the mind is. I am guessing the bloating was a change in diet to enormous amounts of bread, which my body is not used to.
This morning I had cramps, which brought my confirmation. In among all this uncertainty and change, I woke up this morning with agonising cramps in my belly and was brought a reminder that some things continue - this monthly agony, while painful, is familiar. This means I know how I will feel each time the pain comes and I know how I will feel when it goes away, most likely fading this afternoon and disappearing by tomorrow. Though most of life is unknown and unpredictable, there are some things we always know. This, oddly, brings me comfort.
My brain is starting to scramble languages and sometimes people speak Croatian and I think they've been speaking English. I guess this is a good sign, because it means my comprehension is switching sides. The air is warm and muggy and I am reminded of when I lived here, so many years ago, in different times when Croatia was still, officially, Yugoslavia. The sounds outside take me back to another time and the skinny street cats too. Everything here feels different to me, yet somehow the same as some other life I once had.
Those around me are familiar now, but not from my normal life. The thing is, my normal life, as was, is gone. The home I had, the job I had too, quite probably, and I will start the last stage of my counselling training when I return with a new group of people: people who are strangers to me right now, but who, in a few months, will know things about me that more than 99% of the world will never know.
Everything feels uncertain and my association with this changes, like waves on the shore. Each moment feels different - sometimes I am excited about what might be, sometimes uncertain and afraid, sometimes fearful that I won't find a job, sometimes concerned about how I will live, sometimes sure that all will be okay as it always has been okay and sometimes just nothing except wondering what will be and that, really, is something none of us knows for sure.
My belly has been bloated and I started to worry I might be pregnant, momentarily, (a thought that passes every woman's mind every so often). I then dreamt I was and the feeling felt so familiar (even though I never have been) that I awoke knowing I wasn't. I felt too different in waking life to how I felt in my dream. Funny how clever the mind is. I am guessing the bloating was a change in diet to enormous amounts of bread, which my body is not used to.
This morning I had cramps, which brought my confirmation. In among all this uncertainty and change, I woke up this morning with agonising cramps in my belly and was brought a reminder that some things continue - this monthly agony, while painful, is familiar. This means I know how I will feel each time the pain comes and I know how I will feel when it goes away, most likely fading this afternoon and disappearing by tomorrow. Though most of life is unknown and unpredictable, there are some things we always know. This, oddly, brings me comfort.
Thursday, 1 July 2010
Peasants
Had a lecture on Croatian political history today. I learned about the many hands Croatia has been ruled by since 1900 and about the uprising of the peasants including the creation of the Croatian Peasants Party (prior to which only 10% of Croats had been allowed to vote).
This evening I was watching Monty Python's sketch 'the Annoying Peasant' and it very much reminded me of what I'd listened to in the lecture...
This evening I was watching Monty Python's sketch 'the Annoying Peasant' and it very much reminded me of what I'd listened to in the lecture...
Sunday, 27 June 2010
Seconds?
I absorbed culture today. We ambled around the old town or the upper town, whichever you prefer to call it. We met at 9am at Jelacic Plac, or Trg Bana Jelacica, as we are supposed to call it, and we were led around while being given a very interesting historical tour by a Croatian guy called Danijel. The problem was, it was early and I'd only had half a cup of tea. I tried really hard to pay attention, but my eyes kept seeing random things and I before I knew it, I'd wandered away and was poking at a bit of wall or peering into a little hole. People kept thinking they'd lost me or I'd escaped. I got some lovely photos but I don't remember a huge amount about the history. Shame on me, I know, but I enjoyed it much more than I would have otherwise.
As we walked past Zrinjevac park, I realised that it was going to go on for ages (though certainly no later than 4pm because Danijel wanted to watch the football) and I excused myself at 1pm to go for a yummy Croatian lunch (followed by homemade cherry strudel) cooked by my beautiful aunt.
For some reason I am shattered today, but my speech and comprehension is improving already, I am sure, and we've not even started the course yet. I chatted to my cousin's son, who played with my camera, taking very well framed photos and making creative videos. I was honoured with a ketchupy cheese burger kiss as he headed upstairs for his bath. He was good Croatian practice and very forgiving with my mistakes. I then watched a ridiculous comedy drama thing on TV at my aunt's and ate (more) homemade cherry strudel - ridiculous, but I understood it all. My brain seems to be reconnecting to something that it must know from somewhere, because half of all this I did not know a few days ago and I find myself using words from the Istrian dialect before I realise that they are not quite right. Maybe my 13-year old Croatian is coming back to me from somewhere - I had no idea that it's been in storage all this time. My brain is tired though, it's hard work doing all that unpacking and resorting.
I also need either my sister or my boyfriend to make my aunt happy and eat more of the food she offers - I am sure I disappoint her terribly, or at least confuse her, as to why I don't want seconds. I don't often have seconds. My belly is designed for grazing.
"Do you want another piece?"
"No thank you."
2 minutes later
"Do you want another piece? Have one, here."
"No thank you."
2 minutes later
"Have another piece."
"I don't want one."
"Why not?"
"I'm full."
"You're full?" cue confused look.
2 minutes later
"Have another piece."
"Honestly, I don't want one."
"Are you sure?" same confused look
"Yes, thank you."
2 minutes later
"Why don't you take one for later then. You might be hungry again soon."
Not wanting seconds is a concept not understood very well here, it would seem. My lovelies, you know who you are: your ability to eat seconds is much needed here!
As we walked past Zrinjevac park, I realised that it was going to go on for ages (though certainly no later than 4pm because Danijel wanted to watch the football) and I excused myself at 1pm to go for a yummy Croatian lunch (followed by homemade cherry strudel) cooked by my beautiful aunt.
For some reason I am shattered today, but my speech and comprehension is improving already, I am sure, and we've not even started the course yet. I chatted to my cousin's son, who played with my camera, taking very well framed photos and making creative videos. I was honoured with a ketchupy cheese burger kiss as he headed upstairs for his bath. He was good Croatian practice and very forgiving with my mistakes. I then watched a ridiculous comedy drama thing on TV at my aunt's and ate (more) homemade cherry strudel - ridiculous, but I understood it all. My brain seems to be reconnecting to something that it must know from somewhere, because half of all this I did not know a few days ago and I find myself using words from the Istrian dialect before I realise that they are not quite right. Maybe my 13-year old Croatian is coming back to me from somewhere - I had no idea that it's been in storage all this time. My brain is tired though, it's hard work doing all that unpacking and resorting.
I also need either my sister or my boyfriend to make my aunt happy and eat more of the food she offers - I am sure I disappoint her terribly, or at least confuse her, as to why I don't want seconds. I don't often have seconds. My belly is designed for grazing.
"Do you want another piece?"
"No thank you."
2 minutes later
"Do you want another piece? Have one, here."
"No thank you."
2 minutes later
"Have another piece."
"I don't want one."
"Why not?"
"I'm full."
"You're full?" cue confused look.
2 minutes later
"Have another piece."
"Honestly, I don't want one."
"Are you sure?" same confused look
"Yes, thank you."
2 minutes later
"Why don't you take one for later then. You might be hungry again soon."
Not wanting seconds is a concept not understood very well here, it would seem. My lovelies, you know who you are: your ability to eat seconds is much needed here!
Friday, 25 June 2010
Old Croatian ladies are scary
So I headed south today to try and find the Croatian Heritage Centre. I am meeting the staff and other students there tomorrow night and wanted to work out where it was in advance.
I knew it was behind the train station somewhere but when I ran past the station this morning (hurrah, I know now where the station is!) I could not for the life of me see any way around it. Not without running across the tracks and this did not appeal. I asked my aunt (who is, incidentally, an absolute ray of sunshine) and she told me there was an underpass maybe 100 metres from the station. She told me then that it might be 100 metres, or more or less, but she doesn't really work in distances and did not actually know how far it was. I told her I don't work in distances either, so it wouldn't help even if she knew how many metres from the station it was. She told me to go through this underpass and after that would be a bus station, then Trg Stjepana Radica. The square with the Heritage Centre in it.
I found the underpass fairly easily, and it wasn't how I expected. I thought it might be dingy and covered in graffiti, but no. Bright sparkly lights, reminiscent of fairies, and posh shops. Including a Kras shop - yummy Croatian choccies. :-)
Anyway, I got to the other side and passed through the bus station and just could not see where this square might be. I spotted an old lady with shopping bags, so I stopped her. "Oprostite Gospoda." I thought this would be polite enough. I told her which square I was looking for. She told me to go back the way I had come and go through the underpass and it would be on my right. I knew this was not correct and told her it was on this side of the underpass. She looked at me as if I was five years old and told me to go straight on. She told me she could not walk as fast as me so I should go on ahead. I went ahead. I stopped to check my map and this fierce voice shouted from behind me "Ravno i desno!" Straight on and right. I was far too scared of her ferocity to stop walking so I walked as quickly as I could and then turned left before the underpass and hid from her until she'd passed, then I went back to where I'd found her.
I decided to walk a little further and suddenly, in front of me, was what I had been looking for all along. I'd just stopped too soon. I'd lost faith in myself. That scary woman had been standing in the square when I'd asked her where it was. Hm. Shan't be asking old ladies for directions anymore, that's for sure.
Adventure over so, having found my prize, I headed home, buying dark chocolate and hazelnuts on the way. Yummy.
I knew it was behind the train station somewhere but when I ran past the station this morning (hurrah, I know now where the station is!) I could not for the life of me see any way around it. Not without running across the tracks and this did not appeal. I asked my aunt (who is, incidentally, an absolute ray of sunshine) and she told me there was an underpass maybe 100 metres from the station. She told me then that it might be 100 metres, or more or less, but she doesn't really work in distances and did not actually know how far it was. I told her I don't work in distances either, so it wouldn't help even if she knew how many metres from the station it was. She told me to go through this underpass and after that would be a bus station, then Trg Stjepana Radica. The square with the Heritage Centre in it.
I found the underpass fairly easily, and it wasn't how I expected. I thought it might be dingy and covered in graffiti, but no. Bright sparkly lights, reminiscent of fairies, and posh shops. Including a Kras shop - yummy Croatian choccies. :-)
Anyway, I got to the other side and passed through the bus station and just could not see where this square might be. I spotted an old lady with shopping bags, so I stopped her. "Oprostite Gospoda." I thought this would be polite enough. I told her which square I was looking for. She told me to go back the way I had come and go through the underpass and it would be on my right. I knew this was not correct and told her it was on this side of the underpass. She looked at me as if I was five years old and told me to go straight on. She told me she could not walk as fast as me so I should go on ahead. I went ahead. I stopped to check my map and this fierce voice shouted from behind me "Ravno i desno!" Straight on and right. I was far too scared of her ferocity to stop walking so I walked as quickly as I could and then turned left before the underpass and hid from her until she'd passed, then I went back to where I'd found her.
I decided to walk a little further and suddenly, in front of me, was what I had been looking for all along. I'd just stopped too soon. I'd lost faith in myself. That scary woman had been standing in the square when I'd asked her where it was. Hm. Shan't be asking old ladies for directions anymore, that's for sure.
Adventure over so, having found my prize, I headed home, buying dark chocolate and hazelnuts on the way. Yummy.