Croatian for a Day

Victory Day and The Day of Croatian Defenders- Rijeka, Croatia (August 2011)

We can admit it- the current countries of Croatia, Slovenia and Serbia have always had a special place in George’s heart as the gateway out of Czechoslovakia in 1975. They were then part of the country of Yugoslavia. His journey out started in the (now) Croatian city of Pula, which was the beginning of the escape he had longed for since the age of 14, when the Soviet-led invasion of Czechoslovakia put an end to the dreams of the Prague Spring. There were many border crossings and many jails and many fears, including a bus ride in captivity from a small Yugoslav border town near the Italian city of Trieste, far inland to the then-capital of Yugoslavia, Belgrade, handcuffed to the railing of the bus, followed by three weeks in a Belgrade prison. Eventually, the final (and ultimately successful) crossing, which led him to his new life in the United States was launched from the current country of Slovenia into Austria.

There was also help along the way, in the form of human kindness. There was the Slovenian barn in which he spent the night, gobbling several raw eggs he found there- his first “meal” in two days. When he admitted these facts to the farmer and his son in the morning their first question was not, “What gave you the right?” but, “Are you hungry?” They took him inside, where the lady of the house cooked him breakfast and packed him food for the road. A day later, ready to make his final crossing into Austria, he was walking on a road in the border region at dusk and anxious for dark, when it would be easier to avoid patrols. So, he stopped at a house and knocked on the door. He told the gentleman who answered, with all honesty, who he was and what he was trying to do. He relied on the man’s discretion and asked whether he could wait in his garden until dark. Instead, the man invited him into his home without question, prepared him tea, and sat and chatted for more than half an hour. When darkness fell, George thanked him and continued on his way, ultimately undetected until he was on Austrian soil.

Yugoslavia had been patched together, as so many others were, in the same kind of political match-making which arranged the tentative and relatively short-lived marriage of the Czech and Slovak regions into Czechoslovakia before the Velvet Divorce of 1993, which was thankfully, accomplished without bloodshed. Before the collapse of the stranglehold of communism in 1989, there was a strange kind of peaceful alliance in this vast “country”- probably by way of an understanding by the leaders that binding together was better than facing the mighty and ferocious Soviet Union separately. Yugoslavia had a reputation among other Soviet satellite countries that set it apart as a place where there were more freedoms and more possibilities than in those more tightly held, such as the Czechoslovakia of George’s youth. It was also a place where escape, while not easy, was possible.

We are currently visiting Croatia as part of our plan to be out of the European Union for about a month, to allow me to return to Slovakia on my 90 day tourist visa in order to spend the holidays there, and then return to Oregon in January. In the summer of 2011, we traveled to both Croatia and Slovenia to retrace some of George’s route in 1975. We jokingly called it, The Escape Tour. We tried to fit in Belgrade, but in the end we opted for one day in Venice, which we don’t regret. As George said at the time, “I’ve seen Belgrade,” (from a prison ward, that is). Currently, Slovenia is part of the EU and Croatia is not (they will be joining in July 2013), thus our choice to ramble around in Croatia while the clock ticks- not a bad way to go! Our wish-list for this trip also included Bosnia-Herzegovina and Serbia (just to say we had done it). However, because we are here in December, weather and road conditions are a factor, so it looks like Sarajevo and Belgrade will have to wait again. We did manage a day trip to Mostar, which was absolutely unforgettable.

Zagreb is the capital of Croatia, in which we made a brief stop in August 2011. The streets were deserted and when George asked someone why, we were informed that it was a holiday- Victory Day and The Day of Croatian Defenders. We wandered around a bit, saw the cathedral and the empty town square, and moved on toward the coast. This fall, our trip to Zagreb was to be very different than that of the quiet streets of the year before! We arrived on the evening of November 15 and, while we saw a good bit of the city as drove around- lost and trying to find our apartment, it wasn’t exactly the sightseeing we had in mind (clever George finally had the idea to go to the train station and pay a taxi to drive to the address while we followed it). The next morning, we set out on foot to explore the capital. As we got close to the center, we heard the honking of horns as a small parade of cars proceeded down the street with young men perched out the windows draped in Croatian flags, while onlookers smiled and recorded the moment with their cell phones. “Perhaps the victory of a local sports team?” we thought.

Moving closer to the city center, we noticed some activity in the form of older men selling patriotic-looking buttons and a tent set up on the square. A beer festival (or something celebrating sauage or cheese or homemade spirits)? Very likely in this part of the world. As we emerged from our visit to the cathedral, we noticed loud singing across the street- veterans in uniform hoisting their glasses outside the pub and following a pretty lady in song at the top of their lungs. Croatian police officers stood on the sidewalk smiling- lots of them. Something was afoot. 

Picture in the shop windows

As we continued through town, we began to notice small posters in the windows of the shops with photos of two men in military dress…something about generals. We stopped at one of the many bakeries for a snack and asked the proprietor what was going on. She explained that these men had been in custody at The Hague for seven years, and had just been acquitted. From the war? Yes, from the war. Ah-ha. 

Painting on the wall of the Tolkien House Pub

We stopped in a cozy pub as it was now past noon and rather chilly. There, we spent a lovely (albeit smoky) afternoon being served good beer by a jovial bartender and enjoying the local atmosphere. We asked him to tell us a little more about what was going on and he explained that the two generals, Gotovina and Markac, had just been released on overturned convictions for war crimes and that, for Croatians, it was “the day the war truly ended,” a phrase which we heard repeated later in the day.   

Leaving the pub a bit later, we began to wander back toward the square. Suddenly, I noticed more singing- a lot more singing. As we walked down the many steps which head perpendicularly to the square between buildings on each side, it dawned on me that all of the space in my line of site down below us was filled with people…and flags. They were singing, they were cheering, they were waving. As we got closer and looked left and right, finally able to see the length of the square, the magnitude of the gathering began to become clearer. We were astounded. 

Approaching the Square from the steps above

 

 

The crowd from above

We followed this priest toward the Square

Quietly celebrating as part of the crowd

 

At one end of the square was a huge screen showing a video loop of the decision in The Hague, the release, and the generals boarding a plane- they were headed home…right now. At the other end was a screen picturing the two of them with the words (translated) THANK GOD, WELCOME HOME. I have to admit to being caught up in the hour or two we spent as part of the crowd. 

We dove right in, pushing our way as far as we could to take it all in, mouths open at the emotion of the experience. We were the only ones who didn’t know the words of the songs surrounding us on all sides, being sung by the crowd of all ages. George said it felt like participating in the revolution he never got to see, except on a television screen from halfway around the world. There was time later to consider the right or wrong of it, but for the moment, we felt the joy of the Croatian people and it was thrilling!

First look from amongst the crowd

 

Dusk falls and fireworks begin

Soon, we noticed that many at the other end of the crowd were lined up facing the street car tracks leading to the square. Maybe they were actually coming to Zagreb? We waited and wandered for awhile longer. Eventually, we began to make our way back in the direction of our apartment. Becoming turned around a bit with our small tourist map of the city in hand, George stopped and asked a lady in a red coat (not black, how unusual) if she could steer us in the right direction. They studied the map for quite awhile, as I studied some window displays. Eventually, she said she was headed the direction we needed and so walked with us for a few blocks. Along the way, we got her perspective on the day’s events. We were incredulous to come to understand that this whole day had unfolded unplanned, and we just happened to show up for it. She said that they expected some decision from the World Court that morning on an appeal, but no one knew they would be released.

What a difference six hours make

So, the whole thing- the crowds in the square, the video feed, the chartered airplane, their visit to address the crowds welcoming them home in the capital had developed from about 10 a.m., just about the time we lit out from our apartment to see what we could see. We came to understand that this was a truly incredible moment for this entire country and many felt that it brought a kind of closure to the massive wounds of the Croatian War for Independence. In addition, our red-coated temporary friend explained that the next day marked the anniversary of the Fall of Vukovar, an extremely somber occasion to remember a heavily shelled city in eastern Croatia, which was ultimately taken over by the Yugoslav National Army with thousands of people killed or missing, and tens of thousands fleeing. The siege ended with the liquidation of the hospital and the slaughter of 264 patients, known as the Vukovar Massacre. I suddenly remembered seeing the footage of that final event; it was burned vividly into my mind as one of the most awful images of many from that conflict. It was a stunning connection there on the sidewalk of Zagreb.

As we said goodbye to our helpful escort (a teacher, it turns out), we veered off toward the train station and home, when we suddenly noticed blocked streets quite far away from the center. We stopped and watched with a few other people as an extensive motorcade approached, carrying the president of Croatia and newly-released generals to address the crowd. We had a good view of the procession, as the streets were nearly empty this far from the center of the celebration. We went home feeling like we had witnessed an incredible event, simply by accident.

In the following days and weeks, we have seen many symbols of the country’s elation at what they see as justice for the leaders who helped them gain their independence from unjust brutality and aggression. There are signs and flags- symbols of progress toward a future which they hope will be increasingly bright. These stand alongside the houses and buildings, many of which still stand empty- riddled with bullet holes, burned out, or with gaping holes of destruction- abandoned or occupied (yet unrepaired) as their occupants fled for their lives twenty years ago. We have had many conversations with Croats about the war and the future. Among these are several of our accommodation hosts.

Our host in Zagreb, Tatiana, is saddened that Croats are seen as evil and is frustrated that Serbs who showed up at a Serbian/Croatian handball match sporting hats with words equating to “SS” are not called out for it. “We are afraid of them. Why does the world not object to actions like these?” she wanted to know. Marcella, a delightful woman in her 70’s, was terrified at a backlash from the generals’ release because while the Croatian flags are flying here, they are burning in Serbia. In Dubrovnik, an ancient and beautiful city which was shelled by the Serb-led Yugoslav People’s Army (JNA) in 1991, our host Mladen, a kind and thoughtful man who took us grocery shopping and brought us a fully cooked dinner, blanched when he saw the images of the Siege of Dubrovnik on our laptop as we were researching local history on the kitchen table. “I was in the war,” he said. “It was….” he stopped speaking and shuddered. “Well, we won,” he said weakly as we changed the topic. I felt bad for having caught him off-guard and obviously opening traumatic wounds. Our current host, Marina, was born in Sarajevo and now lives near Pula, Croatia. The war began when she was 13 years old. “I miss Yugoslavia, when we were all together,” she says. “We used to all get along. There were no problems. Why did the leaders have to convince everyone to be unhappy with each other?” Excellent question.

You will be forgiven by most of the world, although perhaps not as much in this region, if you are confused by the whole chain of events and conflicts and countries that lead to today’s state of affairs. Many of us have the images of the Yugoslav wars of the 1990’s between the countries now known as Serbia, Slovenia, Croatia, Bosnia-Herzegovina, and others, seared into our memories. I know I do. It is difficult to grasp the difference between the incredibly warm and generous people we have met all over Croatia with the evils of the war. At some point, I have to remind myself that I am a visitor and not a historian. Despite my obsession with making sense of the places I visit, this one has eluded me. I have read and watched and counted bullet holes, and now I have to walk away with the understanding that this is one more of the heart-wrenching complexities in the world which I am incapable of solving. I wrote Houses of Holes [see next blog post] as my attempt to grasp what I see around me, well aware that those on the other side of the border- or the street-have a version of the story all their own. That is how war works. 

One of many bullet-riddled house in Croatia

Flags decorate the ancient streets of Zadar, Croatia, welcoming the generals home

Despite all of this, the Croatia of today is vibrant and an unforgettable experience for travelers. Be sure and check back for a post on the lighter side of our journeys in this beautiful country.