Turisticka Fotos II

More trivia.

As in France, Croats do not pick up dog shit. And there are dogs everywhere, little dogs wearing silly coats. 

When that north wind blows down from the Zagreb mountain it is frigid! Blessed V. lent me her white down puffy coat, so I'm snuggly warm. Thank you V.

Kiosks are everywhere and sell all sorts of useful things: batteries, mobile phones and phone cards, magazines and newspapers, drinks, cigarettes, entrance tickets to various things. Why don’t we have kiosks?

Maroni! Hot roasted chestnuts bought on the street. Yum!

  

The plumbing is good. Toilets, even in bars and cafes, are clean and supplied with decent toilet paper. The flushers work. There are seats. There is soap and hot water. No one asks for money from me if I have to pee. Take note many EU countries I could mention!

Catholic country = lots of people in St. Stephen’s cathedral on their knees at any time of day. The cathedral is being cleaned (apparently the cleaning began in 1989). 

Fallen angels

Main entrance detail

These last two photos are for Clem: an exhibition of medieval torture instruments at the Archeological Museum

 and young guys spinning in a shopping area underneath the train station.

Turisticka Fotos I

In this post I am going to upload a bunch of touristy photos. I’m not in any of them because I was out exploring alone today. These are the kind of photos that lose their appeal once the trip is over, but I didn’t want you, dear readers, to think that all of Zagreb looks like Novi Zagreb with its brutalist Communist-era concrete architecture. In between snaps I’ll add trivial observations, not necessarily about the pictures.

I have a transit pass and I’ve taken the bus several times. This involves swiping a pre-paid card. I have not yet seen anyone else do that. V. tells me that you can buy a ticket on your mobile phone by sending a text (what a concept!), but I haven’t even seen many people doing that either. To be sure, no cash is involved, and I have no idea how payment of transit is monitored. Are these people riding the bus for free? Those old ladies are not buying transit tickets on their mobiles. Probably they have monthly passes, but no one seems to look at them. By the way, the transit system is very good and very well used. Every bus and tram is full, and they come by frequently. Sigh. I love it.

The drinking water is excellent. I wish Kitchener water tasted so pure! How is it that in a land with more fresh water than any other country tap water in many Canadian towns and cities tastes awful. Why are we buying so much bottled water? Because ours tastes like a swimming pool. Insert shake of head and big sigh of frustration. Or maybe a photo.

It’s true that Eastern European women have hair in many shades of red and purple. The drug stores have shelves upon shelves of hair dye in every shade. From my reading beforehand, I know that the scarcity of hair dye was a major problem for women under Communism. Everyone had the same colour, as there was no choice.

Older women also wear fur coasts unapologetically. 

Tonight at dinner with the chair of the English literature division of the department I suddenly understood that Croatians think of themselves as central Europeans, not Eastern Europeans. Um. 

On Fridays fresh seafood from the coast arrives in Zagreb. So last night I ate a whole grilled squid. Delish. 

Taxi drivers will tell you the story about what living in the post-Communist Croatia is really like. In fact, they can't wait to tell you. Okay, so I've only taken one taxi so far, but it was a very interesting chat!

On Sunday night I’m going to a restaurant called Ivica i Marica (Hansel and Gretel). Seriously. But it’s supposed to have good Croatian food. Lots of Italian food here, as was to be expected. Of course, we can get good Italian food in Canada—shout out to Giancarlo’s in Toronto!

I learned how to order a big coffee with milk today: Kava mjileko velika. Molim (please). Hvala (thanks). That makes my vocabulary about ten words rich now. Maybe fifteen.

I live in Novi Zagreb

This city has three layers. There is the old town or Upper Town, which is very old (13^th century, I think) and was fortified (one of the gates is on the Zagreb flag) and is built high on a hill. There is the downtown or Lower Town, which dates from the 18th-19^th centuries and is much like any other European city. Neo-classical buildings and elegant streets and boulevards characterize it, and there are a series of squares lined with shops and cafes. Some of the older cafes are much like those in Vienna. Old men and women sit there for hours over a coffee reading the newspaper or gossiping. Waiters are dressed formally. The coffee is excellent. I learned that you order the Italian way—Espresso, Machiatto, Latte, etc.

Then there is Novi Zagreb (new Zagreb), which is built on reclaimed marshland and is characterized by the kind of monster apartment building in which I live. This is the view from my window.

I look north, towards the centre of the city, and I am assured that when the weather clears I’ll be able to see more of the “Zagreb mountain.” It has been cold and foggy/overcast since I arrived, with occasional appearances of the sun. Spring has not yet arrived, but it will in a couple of weeks.

Today I started to work, which feels good and right, even necessary. It took a while to get the Internet working on a mobile plug-in device, and it was quite crazy-making not to have ready access to the Internet, as I am now so accustomed to having, but with persistence…and a bit of help from a computer shop guy…I got wired at home. Or at least sometimes. It seems very temperamental.

No my dears, getting wired is not the same thing as getting wasted on wine, though the wine is cheap and excellent! And like most sensible societies everywhere, it can be bought at any food shop. Because wine is sustenance.

Živjeli!

In Zagreb

First experiences and impressions.

I am, indeed, housed in an apartment in a neighbourhood of massive apartment buildings. Mine is on the 15^th floor and is basically one room with a bathroom. I’ve stayed in bigger hotel rooms. Seriously. And I know for sure that whole families are living in this same amount of space in this ordinary apartment building. It really brings home the general bigness of North American life.

I was right about the sofa that will be my bed. I was right about the two-burner stove. No oven. I was right about the lack of any artwork of any kind on the walls.

Already caught myself missing a cat being around.

For those who want to know the details, the flight/s were fine; the five-hour layover in Frankfurt was boring; but everything went like clockwork. No delays, no problems. My luggage arrived with me. Gott sei dank! Passport control and customs were a wave-through.

V. is charming and she is going out of her way to make me feel welcome. I had been emailing her with all of my questions over the past few months, and she has been absolutely wonderful. There she was at the airport to pick me up and take me to the apartment. She had already bought me a phone and a transit pass!!!!!!! We instantly found the internet café which is steps away from my apartment and she pointed out the bakery, grocery store, drug store, etc. And then on the first day she did the right thing: leave me alone to shower, buy groceries, unpack, get my bearings. Think about being here in Zagreb.

Today we did a tour of the downtown. And ate a traditional Croatian lunch—don’t know what it’s called but a spicy ground meat mixture, grilled, served on a flat bread (something like pita but better) with raw onions and some sort of cross between butter and cheese. Greasy and delicious!

We also stopped by the university and I met some colleagues in the English department. V. showed me my office chair: she already shares an office with three others! Teaching starts next week.


So far so good. Dovidenja! (bye)

Travel Day

Well, here it is: the day of departure. I have everything packed. Lots of LUGGAGE.

How does one pack for three months and three different seasons?All those (hopefully versatile and appropriate) clothes. Carefully selected footwear (those of you who know me will recognize that it was quite a chore to select 5 pairs from the probably 60 that I own). Not to mention all the electronics and the books and files that I did not send ahead to Croatia. Ah the iPad. Essential. Ah the new MacBook Air. Beloved. But I also, at the last minute, bought a new notebook--the paper and hardcover kind--and packed my Waterman fountain pen and refills. Oh, and a new moleskin. I downloaded ebooks to the iPad, but I also packed a big fat novel--and I mean big: Hillary Mantel's epic story of the French Revolution, A Place of Greater Safety. And I have the other essential travel items of the obsessive reader near at hand--a copy of Vanity Fair, a copy of Harpers, the anthology that I will teach from in the first week (just in case my luggage goes astray).

About luggage going astray. Knock on wood it has never happened to me. But just in case I've got undies, socks, t-shirt, toothbrush, meds, and hairbrush in my carryon tote. Carryon tote is the bag I bought in Hawaii at the ABC store. Makes me smile every time I look at it, with its map of the islands design.

Am I excited? Yes. But I've also got butterflies in my tummy and last night I dreamt about luggage and vehicles and strangers.

Ciao readers. Next time I blog it will be from Zagreb. Wheeeee!

Will my flat be in this building?

Google found me this apartment building on the street I'll be living on.

Will this be my new home?

New location, new habits?

I have this idea that while I'm away from my usual life I can also renovate myself. In a new country don't we become new people? Sort of?  A bit? I'd like to think I could embark on a self-improvement program over the next few months. On my own and away from the scrutiny of my lover and friends. I also know that this is a foolish fantasy....I will not be able to abstain from all of my bad habits. I'm not going to give up smoking, especially in a country where people can smoke anywhere. And the ready availability of cheap red wine will not encourage me to cut back on my consumption. Oh well.

But here's what I can do. Perhaps.

Yoga (I downloaded an app for the iPad and can pack my mat).

Power walking (V. assures me that lots of people do it, so I won't look like a freak. I can pack my running shoes and a pair of yoga pants can do double duty),

Dye my own hair (Nice 'n Easy already bought!).

Take better care of my skin (I'm thinking that Zagreb must be full of salons where a person could get an inexpensive facial).

Watch less TV (that's pretty much a given since I might  not even have a TV and I certainly won't be able to follow Croatian language programming).

Lose weight (even 10 pounds would be good).

Write more (this blog is a start!).

Get out more (wifi in cafes will likely be a necessity).

Skype more (why has it taken me this long to understand how wonderful skype is????)

Does writing this down mean that I am now somehow more accountable?  Check back and check up on me!

Cleaning, sorting and packing

In my head I have already gone, but, of course, I have not. The waiting and fussing are making me alternatively morose or bonkers. I want to be out of here; I want to be on my way; I want this new adventure to begin. But at the same time I'm moodily thinking about how much I'll miss Arlequino and my little life here at home. Not my job, exactly, but my house, my cat, my friends and family, yes even some of my students. 


Meanwhile, I'm tidying my office, putting away clothes that are strewn about, cleaning out the fridge. Generally getting my house ready for the marvellous E (house and cat sitter--and last minute godsend) to move in. What I can't clean and tidy up are my fears. Not fears, exactly, but slightly anxious anticipations. Tiny tremors. 


I am going to Eastern Europe. A Europe that is NOT in the EU. A Europe that was rather recently Communist. A Europe that I expect will be rather monochromatic and mono-cultural. Not a Europe I know.


I have imagined that things will initially fold out like this:

• The Croatian language will sound so completely unfamiliar to my ear that I'll repeatedly forget even simple words and phrases, like hello or thank you. I will be immensely grateful that lots of people speak English. I will smile and shake hands. A LOT.
• My visiting professor flat will be tiny. It will have a hot plate and a pull out couch for a bed. The taps will drip and the lightbulbs will be low wattage. There might be a disinfectant smell (which is vastly preferable to a mouldy or sour smell). There will be motel room art on the walls--or nothing at all.
• The flat will be miles away from the university and the centre of town--because it's cheaper rent out there.
• Blessed V will be as charming and helpful and warm as she has been on email. I will also like her husband right away. I might cling.
• They will be expecting someone younger and more fun.
• Naturally, despite weeks of planning, I will have packed all the wrong clothes and shoes.

• The students will be amazing.
• The first week will fly by.

I'll test these imaginings once I get there.

Three days and counting down.