The Foreignist

We’ve been living in Croatia for a while now, but really haven’t seen much outside of Dalmatia. Granted, Dalmatia has a lot to offer, but one Medieval castle starts looking like all the rest of them after a while. Same thing for 1000 foot vistas over looking the Adriatic Sea. Sad to say, but the overwhelming beauty of this place becomes so common that you hardly notice it anymore.

My folks were coming to visit, and we thought we would take the opportunity to do some exploring. It was a risk to go to anywhere new with my dad. He really doesn’t like travelling that much, and he must have air conditioning in his hotel room. But the kicker is he must have a smoke-free environment. If you’ve spent anytime in Europe at all, you’ve probably noticed that Europeans love cigarettes, and you’re pretty much free to smoke wherever you want to (even church, but I have heard they usually extinguish before the actual mass). Nevertheless, I was determined to get our family out of Dalmatia and go out and see some more of the Balkans. You can follow along with this travel log with the map below.

(1 - refer to map [160 km = 100 miles]) First we started in more familiar territory. We took a day-trip to the island Hvar (pronounced it like you’re going to say the ‘H’ but then just skip right to the ‘v’). We visited with two of the girls from our church who are working there for the summer. We had a great lunch in a restaurant that was right on the water and had an aquarium built into the floor - there were crabs, lobsters, fish, even sharks, swimming around underneath the glass floor of the restaurant. It was a bit unsettling. Went for a swim in the afternoon to cool down, then caught the ferry back to Split.

(2) Next, my folks took the boys out to the island Brač (č = ch in English). They have this quiet little place where they stay on the island. The only thing that could be better about that place is if the sea were a little deeper there, so that Garrett and I could catch some bigger fish.

When they all returned from the island, we went to (3) dinner in the walled city of Trogir. We always eat at this little place that makes their own pasta.
On to new territory, we visited (4) Plitvice Lakes. The lakes are formed by the Lika River flowing over travertine rock formations. There are lots of little lakes and waterfalls everywhere. It took us the better part of two days to see all the waterfalls, lakes, and caves. The hotel here was the biggest risk of the whole trip - no A/C. Thankfully, there was no need for it. We were high in the mountains and the temperature was fairly cool. Down to the 50’s at night. My dad survived and was on his best behavior. Two strange things happened in the restaurant. First, three people at our table ordered something flambe‘d. Second, as the chef was preparing a trout table-side, he threw a glass of cognac into the pan and the lady sitting at the next nearly fell out of her chair trying to escape the flames. Maybe a little too much cognac. It reminded me of the “Fresh Prince of Bel-Air” episode where Will tries to flambe something and ends up burning the entire kitchen.

After that it was on to Slovenia. I’ll post that when I can muster up the motivation to pull some more pictures together.

One inevitable consequence of living overseas is oftentimes doing things that would otherwise seem repulsive to you based on the way you were raised. I thank God I don’t live in some far-flung corner of the globe where they eat bugs or snakes, drink something that’s fermented from chewed up tree bark, or don’t wear any clothes. In my attempt to be all things to all people, I would make myself do these things. However, over the last few weeks I have forced myself to do something that is definitely counter to my American upbringing - watching soccer on television. The World Cup has been the only thing on TV for weeks. The World Cup is what everyone is talking about. On the BBC, they actually had a symposium talking about how soccer could bring about world peace.

I decided beforehand that I would at least feign interest in this wide world of sports phenomenon. My two points of interests were how Croatia would do in the tournament and an anti-celebrity preoccupation with seeing the team from England implode. Beyond those two items, I would have trouble maintaining focus and would become even more irrelevant to the conversation going on around me. I watched all of the games Croatia played with my Croatian friends. Two games without scoring = 6 hours of waiting that left me feeling very unsatisfied and frustrated. Their third and deciding game against Australia ended in a tie, which obviously means that the Socceroos advanced to the second round via their sister’s kiss. England made it out of pool play, but was eliminated by Portugal in the elimination round. Things looked bleak for the English from the beginning, and culminated in a tear-soaked Beckham stepping down as team captain.

Now my interest is near nil, but I did learn a few things over the last few weeks. First, I learned the rules of soccer. Second, I learned that soccer is way too difficult. The percentage of passes that actually reach their intended destination is so low that it’s depressing. One of the most obvious signs of the chaos that is soccer is listening to the matches on the radio. It sounds like the play-by-play guy is making one constant mistake for 45 minutes at a time. It’s too hard for the players to do what they are supposed to be doing.

I do like the idea of the cards. One of the old guys that comes into our cafe has adopted the yellow and red card system to every-day situations. If whoever is waiting on him doesn’t give him exactly what he wanted with his drink, he reaches into his coat pocket and produces a yellow card that looks just like the one the soccer judges uses in games. If you happen to interrupt him while he is talking or don’t respond to him quickly enough, he quickly produces a red card and starts writing something in a little book he carries with him. I’m assuming that soccer judges aren’t writing poetry in those little books they carry with them.