With cigarettes, you are never alone.

I went to Sedmica the other night with some friends. It is a great place except that it is thick with smoke and afterwards, your eyes burn and your clothes smell like an ashtray. So, someone in our group was smoking, and he was smoking York cigarettes. And he looked at the package and he said, the tag line is "With cigarettes, you are never alone " (Uz cigaretom nikad sama or something close to it) Yes, I know I am supposed to talk about health issues and stupidity issues, or religion, don't you know that you are never alone, or issues of consumption, that cigarettes don't make you really feel better, it has to come from within, and don't be so stupid to buy this tag line, to think that smoking will change that, and that I should be morally outraged this can be a legal tag line for a lethal product. This is a very inviting tag line, isn't it, because it directly addresses why people smoke, even if they don't want to say it out loud. They just want something to do, they just want something to stay busy with. I think this is jednostavno, or simple, enough, don't you?

Swimming

Yesterday I went swimming at Dom Sportova (it is in Trg Sportova, which you can find on a map here). First, I must tell you that I swam about 1,600 to 1,800 yards daily for the last two years. I even won a race across the Ohio River at Paducah, KY, where I grew up. I love to swim. But I haven't been in the pool since August, when I left Champaign. I arrived here and found out where the pool is and when I can go, but somehow I thought it would be too hard to find, too far from my apartment, and too complicated to go there. I did play tennis in the meantime, thinking that the courts down the street would be a good substitute. I did like tennis, but it isn't so great in the rain or cold, and partners are not always available. Yesterday, after finally feeling settled into my new apartment after living here for three weeks, after finishing up some aspects of my work, and feeling like I needed something interesting to do in the day, I walked to Dom Sportova with a backpack full of equipment: swimsuit, goggles, cap, shapoo, soap, comb ...

The walk on a sunny day through a leafy neighborhood took me about 20 minutes and I found my way easily and actually enjoyed it (I have to note that my cousin works across the street from Dom Sportova so I had been to that area once or twice before). First hurdle passed fine.
At Dom Sportova, I made my way to the mali bazin, the small pool, that is used just for training. At the cashier's desk, I paid for my entrance of 15 hrk (kindly discounted from 25 hrk because I came at the last 45 mintues of the 11.30-13.00 session), and I asked for information about how to proceed with changing etc. The cashier took me to the changing cabins for women and introduced me to the woman working at the garderrobe. I like the changing cabins because of the privacy, which I didn't have at the UIUC swimming pool. I like the garderrobe lady because she took my things and gave me a number for them. She also told me that I had to shower before I could enter the pool, which is great because it means that the water is really kept clean since she is probably making everyone do this.

When I walked into the pool area, I noticed that the people in the pool were almost all men. I also noticed that the light from outside came in, giving the place a nice resonance with summer, even though this is Novemeber (studeni click here for the names of months in Croatian and their origin). There were two lanes of swimmers listening to a man tell them what to do (I guess this is a swim club) and three lanes of swimmers. Two of those lanes were slow and one was more fast, so I went into the fast lane.

As I was swimming in the fast lane, I found a metaphor to describe how the pace was. It was like driving a car on the expressway here in Croatia. There are some cars that are going too slow and holding up the traffic, frustrating the other drivers. It was hard to find my timing as I am used to swimming in my own lane, or sharing it with one other person. I like to swim at a consistent pace and to lose my thoughts in that pace, so it is annoying to be slowed down. After about ten mintues, the swim club left, and my lane was less full, I guess some people migrated over, and some left. I was trying to push them out, so fine with me. And then I had a really nice swim for about 10 mintues. It was a really nice experience. Then I was exhausted and finished for the day.

In the shower room was an old woman who was there on my way into the pool-now she was washing her feet, with great lather. When I left, she was still there. The shower heads turn on automatically and the water temperature is comfortable. The garderroba lady is outside the glass door, monitoring. When you walk out of the shower room, she brings you your things, and you proceed to the cabins to get ready for the outside world. Much more comfortable than I can say for UIUC.

I was thinking about drying my hair, but as it wasn't really cold, and I was hungry and wanted to go home and eat, I skipped it. But I have to next time. No, not because of the cold. Because these are the coolest dryers I have ever seen. The way this works is that you sit on a wooden bench, with your back to a wall and your head under a hood (it looks like the hood over a fireplace) that is an extension of the heating system-all of this is easy to figure out because the pipes are exposed. The color is yellow. It is really super cool. Women are using this. It is great. It is exciting because I don't know what it will be like. Will let you know.

As I said, I was hungry and I wanted to go home and eat. So, I thought about walking but I also knew I would need to cross the train tracks by the Zapadni Kolodvor (click here for tram map) and take tram 1 to my place. And it was a thrill to walk out the door, cross Magazninska street, up the embankment, through the opening (it looked like it wasn't the result of vanzalism, but part of the design so that people could pass there) in the 6 ft tall cement barrier, covered with grafiti, across the train tracks (just after a local train passed) to the the other side, then walking across some grass to Hanuseva street (here is a map), where tram 1 was waiting for me. I wasn't alone in this, there was a young woman carrying folders of the type I see lots of students carry around town. Then a nice tram ride home. It was all about 15 mintues. The great thing is that I can take this route if the weather is wet or cold.

Boots

Today it is only 50f outside, overcast, no rain. Still, I have to find some winter boots. My cousin told me winter boots must have: thick rubber sole to keep out cold when I walk on snow and ice, insulation against cold when I am walking outside, space to tuck in my jeans so they stay dry. What this means is that I don't have a car like I did in Champaign, so when it is cold or wet, I have to face it, and not hide in the driver's seat. At least if I want to leave the apartment in the winter.
Today I also have to face the reality that I have to write my dissertation. I fear it like I fear the cold that will come this winter. There are no boots I can wear to make the process easier (or are there? Shoes have great powers).

What's your 20?

Joj! I haven't updated my blog in a long time! Sori! (I want you to know that I do know how to write using some Croatian words). You might be wondering if I have been away from Zagreb (I went to Ljubljana for a day, but that isn't what you mean) or if I have fallen in love (no, I have not) or been the victim of a tragic accident involving a derailed high-speed train (there are no high speed trains here). You are thinking that now I will say, well I've been busy, fieldwork and writing takes up a lot of time, plus you don't know what it is like to live in Zagreb, and then there is the time delay with the US, always like another shift starts after 4pm here. No, I won't tell you that because I get frustrated when people say to me, ok I've been too busy (to do what I told you to expect me to do). As if no one else in the world is busy. Actually, I have moved, I have met many new people, I have been to meetings all over town, I have visited an important field site, Hreljic, and some of the suburban neighborhoods, seen some stuff, I have visited cousins, been to a Public Enemy concert, enjoyed the visit of a great friend from days working at the Embassy of Croatia in Washington, DC, hosted a very welcome guest, completed some writing deadlines. And I really missed writing this blog, and I am glad to be back. I'll post some photos from Hreljic, from Ljubljana, and some other stuff, and some of the apartment, well not actually of the apartment, but of the view of the garden from the balcony. The apartment is around the corner from where I used to live, and it is in a great neighborhood called Britanski trg. This is the same street I lived on in 2002-03. I moved so that I could have more privacy and quiet (to be alone with you on this blog).
Ljubljana is to Zagreb, as my friend who went there with me said, a richer, better looking cousin, who doesn't have heartaches and who is, therefore, slightly boring, less sexy, more predictable, and less likely to change jobs often.

Hreljic

Hreljic is a place I went to for research. It is a flea market just outside Zagreb city center-it is possible to go there on tram 6, then walking about two miles. Most of the people who are there seem to be unable to afford to shop in stores. The sellers often seem to be selling whatever, or they are very organized in their stock and display (those professionals seem to be Roma or other marginal groups). This photo has a few things I like. One, it shows what items are sold and how they are displayed. Look in the bottom right-hand corner. Find the red and white "checkerboard" on a white background, in a frame. This is the Croatian "coat of arms" that is on the flag. In this case, it is displayed upside-down. If you went to Hrelic, or if you had a feeling for its position in Zagreb, you might think this upside-down image fit in perfectly here.

Britanski trg (where I live)

 

Pensioner women on Heinzelova

 

Klaiceva

People on my street, Kaliceva, using the new bike lane (for walking). I love this neighborhood.

At the counter

I made it through last week's having a cold and staying at home. I made it through a lot. Today I bought the hot water heater/kettle (pictured here with my french press coffee maker) I had my eyes on for a while to celebrate. Returned to the shop where I had looked it over and bought a scale recently. In that process, I had told the shopkeeper that I am learning Croatian, and I am a foreigner, so please be a bit patient with my language mistakes. Today he seemed to recognized me, in that impersonal and polite central european way. He helped me with the kettles. I was looking at one I liked and he said, here is the model with a nicer blue color. I said, ok. Then he saw me looking at another model, about 90 kunas compared to my 130 kuna model. He said, no don't by that one, it isn't good. No one in the US would have said that so directly to me. And probably no one selling something in the US knows about the product. And as a stranger, that advice was what I needed.
When I started feeling really ill last week, I crawled over to the pharmacy, just a few meters away. Again the routine with the language. The woman, the pharmacist, said, ok, which language do you want, English? And I said, yes please! (So glad that she didn't say German? English?). We talked about my sore throat, my cough, my exhaustion. She reached under the counter and came out with Maxflu and another product. I could feel my eyes grow wide. I asked her which is better. She said, Maxflu and put the other one away. Maxflu I can now say is great and will restore you from a cold after 36 hrs if you take it every 6 hrs. Then I asked about a thermometer. Then the issue of ferenheight to celcius. She said, you are ok to 38, and then after that, you need to see a doctor. Great. Oh, thank goodness for sales interactions of all kinds.

Zlatni Rat

the beach and friends ...

Franck

This time, there is less of the unknown. I know where to go, when, what I like, what I can expect. I lived here in 2002-03, around the corner.
This morning, I walk in my flip-flops, jeans and t-shirt, becuase it is still pretty warm here in Zagreb, even though school has started and the islands are free from tourists, to the cafe next door and take home a cafe au lait and later bring back a few hours later the empty cup that says "Franck" after the brand of coffee.
The woman who makes the coffee this morning asked, cafe au lait, and I said yes, and then she said, with a smile, which is really rare here in small social interactions, how are you, and I said, well I am pretty good, it isn't hot yet, but I really haven't woken up yet. I think that was somewhat obvious and the reason she was smiling. I still don't know what is waiting for me here this year.
In today's paper, there is an article about the remake of a very popular Yugoslav era television series, "Pozorišta u kući." It will be filmend in Belgrade, just like before, and broadcast on Croatian tv, starting in october. It will star Croatian actors. It is about a family, and Tarik Filipovic will play the father. It suggested that the new show will deliver some of what the old one did: laughs and satire, what people need and like. It didn't say if, in the new edition, the actors change, or how.
Here are some photos of my living room/dining room/working area in my apartment at Klaiceva 14 in Zagreb.

Novi Val

The truth has something to do with losing our naivete: there is no Santa Claus, your best friend is screwing your high school boyfriend, you can't handle mixing pot and booze. They ask us to reorient our view of ourselves and our relationships: my parents are deceptive, I still love my presents; my best friend is a slut, my boyfriend is a jerk, and I am dumb; I'm a lush, not a stoner. Here is one for marketing academics: there was consumer culture in state socialism; fashion isn't exclusive to capitalism, class happens in other places.

Here are a few links, the first one to a song I like very much, "A sta da radim" by Azra, released in 1979. They are from Zagreb, they were the leaders of Zagreb's New Wave scene in that period. There is a great rockumentary about this scene is Sretno dijete (The Happy Child) directed by Igor Mirkovic, 2003. I'm not sure how this relates to any of the first paragraph. Maybe because this is the audio I will use at an upcoming conference.

So, enjoy the music, cya.

Holiday at Osco

Do you have a place that you can easily visit and when you are there you feel southed? There is a combination of sensations there: light, sound, scenes, that feels good. You want to think of vacations, Pawley's Island or Kiawa if you are from the Southeast, or Cape Cod if you are from the Northeast, or a mountain top if you are from the Northwest, or the Great Lakes / Door County Wisconsin if you are from the Mid-west. Now that I live in the midwest I have to adjust to new concepts of places for holiday, not the drama of the coast, the cool attitude of the east or chill-out west. I learned that Dorr Country Wisconsin has a prestige and beauty in the imagination of people from Illinois. In my imagination it is flat and boring, on land and off. There is no difference between staying on the porch and looking at the view and actually participating in the water because the lake is also calm and flat. This is not the place for me, I need the water to feel different, especially salt on my skin, especially if it stays on until I scrub in a shower, and I need to feel weightless or excited by the possibility of drowning or swimming to the horizon, just swimming off. I am born in Portugal and I am sure that this is where I have my sense of adventure, love of sea, and why I stare at the horizon when I go to the coast.
Beyond this there is the everyday escape, the place to run off. For me it isn't always the memories of the coast. I like to visit Osco, the drugstore. Don't laugh, just remember what it is like to go there, or walk through with me. It has some components of a holiday... The soundtrack, I really like it, so that is one good sensation. The isles are neatly arranged, and especially the beauty section has lots of colours neatly arranged. I like the colors and the order, I feel calm. I like to look at them as possibilities. Would I like this, who would I be if I wore this bright purple eyeshadow... whom would I want to see that identity. The lighting is florescent, but not so bad. I can satisfy a need there, find what I want and probably it is reasonably priced. It feels good there. It is my escape place.

Spring has come in Illinois, and I am thinking of some warm weather rituals. Vincek is the place for the creamiest, most flavorful ice cream (sladoled) in Southeastern Europe. It is on Ilica west of the trg in Zagreb. I went there for a scoop of chocolate and banana on warm Saturday afternoons, on the way home from coffee. I think food helps mark seasons and times and moods.

Borders and Spaces

Visiting Houston last weekend reminded me of the tension of a border. I don't mean the Mexican cuisine or Spanish language on top of English, we have that here in the mid-west, too, and we're far from a border. The influence is now part of US culture. And the influence is different everywhere. What I felt in Houston was the feeling of a borderland. The ocean, the legal border, it is all right there. A friend told me the border is a short bus ride away. Another country is over there. Do you know what is exciting about a border? Do you know what it means? A border is a geographic sign, it is a metaphor for travelling, for what could be, for choices about change or not. A border tells me that I have arrived somewhere. Yes, you have travelled as far south as you can go. You have achieved something. Sit and rest. There is a tension. It also tells me, you have gone this far, and now it is time to turn around and go home. Or I can keep pushing and go into another territoriy, but that is taking things to an extreme. The border tells me where I am. I brush up against it, and I feel its pressure. I like it, it feels reassuring, I know where I am, I am on this side of the border, and I know where I am not, which is in Mexico or the interior of the USA. I am somewhere special, I am on the border. I live on the edge but I know I am somewhere.
There are no borders in my midwestern city. I am far from Canada or Mexico or a body of water, or even anther state. I don't know where I am. When should I stop, why am I here, and what am I supposed to do here. The only sign is the sun, its shadow, and I only know where east and west are. I am in the middle of east and west. The shadow looks the same in Houston, too, but it doesn't mean the same, because I know I am somewhere, not in the middle of other places. The only reason the shadows and the sun give me for staying, they don't give me any. I have to make up roots here to resist the wind. In the border, I don't have to do that, because the border will prevent me from flying away. All the existential questions and answers are taken care of by the border. I like the assuredness of it. I can enjoy it. I know I am somewhere, a destination. I like borderlands. I lived in Croatia, a borderland, and I liked the cozyness of five countries and the ocean and rivers tucking me in to the place.

Food and Memory

My Aunt Carla asked me during my trip to BA in January if I remembered anything from my first trip to BA about twenty five years ago. I said, well I remember Aunt Mila's house and I remember Baka sitting in her chair at that house and I remember eating soup there, and I remember my cousins Tomi and Vlado and Jure and their turtle Pinky. Then a few days later, I walked into a bakery with my mom and Gabi, my cousin. I looked through the display case at the cakes and cookies. And the whole experience of the trip at age five came back to me... The wonder of a foreign place and meeting my parents's sisters and my grown-up cousins, after living with just us in the USA, in a small town in green Kentucky, and here we are now in a city with buildings that went up forever and avenues and streams of cars that went on forever. My mom telling me in the car not to talk while my Dad is driving, becuase we almost got into a wreck, this never could happen at home. My brother and sister seeming to get it better than I. So much new stuff... I remember the beach at Marciquita (?) - was that my first beach, the first time I saw the ocean? The beach was so wide, and I wasn't permitted in the cold water, of course. I remember the sand everywhere, and my cousin's house there, and preparing and eating Asado...
I felt when I was there in January similar. Now those cousins live in the USA, in our town in Kentucky and San Francisco, and in Zagreb, in Croatia, in Europe! But I'm the one in BA now. I'm just with my mom, this time the visit is about her ageing mother, not my Dad's, she passed away when I was 13. I hardly knew what to say to my Dad that day when I was raking leaves and he came into the yard and told me my Baka Katica died, and then returned to the house. I have her name and I only knew my grandmother from metting her once. I didn't know what I felt about this half stranger, half namesake, and I couldn't imagine what could my Dad feel. I wonder now what my Mom said to him to comfort him. I'm sorry I couldn't miss my Grandmother that day, it would have to wait until 2003 when we re-buried the urns of my Grandmother and my Grandfather in Croatia. I cried during that ceremony, so did my Dad. I was sad that I missed out on knowing her, and I was sad for my Dad that he lived away from her for so long, and sorry that his mother died, that he was an orphan, and that wars had changed their lives so much, it must have changed relationships, too. Feeling in my heart a lingering lack of faith in the future, an assurance that the worst will happen.
But on my Mom's side it isn't so. This time what is new is the teasing and laughing between my Aunt and my Mom, ganging up on Abuela. How Gabi is just like my Mom, go-go-go. How I feel good every time my Aunt looks at me, how I feel understood. How I know this time it is different, and next time I can feel different for my Mom and for me. That lingering lack of faith seems less relevant, and all the tenses of time less unsure.

With my Mom on my second trip to BA, January 2005

I also spent time in Zagreb; sometimes this woman sold me pepers...

My first trip to BA, age 5, with Baka Katica, Sonia, Victor, and Dad.