[YEAR 7!] Quit our jobs, sold our home, gone riding...
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lightcycle
Nomad
Updated from http://www.RideDOT.com/rtw/165.html on June 29th, 2014
I've been in Lima for a week now, patiently waiting for word from the logistics company that our bikes have passed customs. This is the sticky part of the shipping process and the reason why I stayed behind while Neda went ahead to Croatia. From all the research I've done, we do not want to be out of the country trying to troubleshoot remotely if there are any problems with Peruvian customs - which there frequently are.
Neda Skypes with me everyday and we keep each other apprised on the progress of her mother's health and how the customs process is shaping up. Although Neda is happy that she's able to visit her mom everyday in the hospital, her condition has deteriorated quite rapidly. The growths were malignant and were spreading very quickly, putting pressure on the spinal cord and paralyzing her below the neck. The whole family was now anxiously awaiting for a surgery date to remove the affected vertebrae and hopefully restore her mobility and feeling.
I listened to her voice everyday growing more and more concerned. She told me that she needed me in Croatia for support, and that maybe I should just trust in the logistics company to handle things after the bikes cleared customs. I was missing her presence a lot too. It's strange being joined at the hip with someone for over two years and then suddenly not having them around anymore. I've gotten so accustomed to just having her nearby, that during the last week, I'll be typing away on the laptop, or watching a movie or listening to music, then I'll stop what I'm doing to talk to Neda and then realize she's not there in the room.
But she's always there... Such a strange feeling...
A few days later, we got word that the bikes had cleared customs and would be on the next ship to Europe. I booked a ticket to Croatia immediately. Whereas it would take me two days of airplanes and buses to get to Croatia, our bikes were going to take the slow boat to Hamburg, crossing the Panama Canal in the process (again! ha!). It will be almost a month and a half before we will see our motorcycles in Zagreb!
Stopover in Munich
There's a train that runs from Munich airport to the downtown core. I boarded it, took a seat and watched other passengers trickle in. As the car began to fill up, I noticed how tightly I was holding onto my bags and luggage - and the only reason I noticed was because everyone else around me seemed to be so carefree and unafraid. One man fell asleep, his briefcase sitting unattended on the seat beside him. I glanced around wondering which one of the other passengers would steal his bag first... This is the third time I've been to Munich, but despite that I was still experiencing culture shock! After over a year and a half in Latin America, the blithe attitudes towards security and safety here were a bit unsettling.
And yes, I totally stole that guy's briefcase...
There is construction everytime I visit the Marienplatz. This time is no different.
There were several other cultural jolts:
- Everyone is so tall! In Central and South America, I would tower over most of the population. Now I'm dwarfed by a forest of Germanic oak trees.
- All the cars stop for pedestrians at the crosswalks. That was surprising! I gingerly stepped out onto a crosswalk in front of a stopped Mercedes thinking this must be a trick or a trap...
- Everyone speaks English! But they assume I speak German first. I was at a donair fast food stall and the guy at the counter asked me something which I didn't understand. I automatically defaulted to my first non-English language: "No entiendo". Picture a middle-eastern guy asking something in German, and an Asian guy responding in obviously bad Spanish. The donair guy narrowed his eyes at me. I'm sure he thought I was making fun of him in some way.
- Everything is SO CLEAN AND SO QUIET! OMG I LOVE IT!
Looking back, I don't think I could have picked a more diametrically opposite place from Peru to have come to than Germany.
Mariensaule - a gold statue of the Virgin Mary. This is what Marienplatz was named after
I've been to Munich 3 times now, and every single time I visit the Marienplatz just to see if the place is still under construction. The answer is yes. I've seen the little Glockenspiel show that is so popular with tourists and I'm always underwhelmed by it. So this time, my Central/South American instincts take me to that same gathering spot and my camera is now out trying to look for interesting indigenous peoples to take pictures of. I find one very quickly:
Wonder if he got his hat in Peru?
Locals call this "the most over-rated show in the world"
This is what I was really here for: dark German beer and sausages!
They said the best place for German sausages was Weisses Brauhaus, which is just around the corner from the Marienplatz, and was the primary reason why I was in the middle of MunichTouristCentral. The food and the beer didn't disappoint and I had another culture jolt in the restaurant: the bill...
And also, another German patron sitting at the same table from me kept glancing over at me with curiousity. I'd smile and nod and then he would smile and nod and then nothing. If this was Latin America, no time would have elapsed before: "Chino?" and then a hundred questions in Spanish which I couldn't answer. So I decided to break the ice with a "Sprechen sie English?" (yes, I do speak fluent Germglish), to which he replied, "Of course." Of course, he spoke English. Duh. We then had a great little conversation, which would never have happened if Latin America hadn't taught me that it's okay to approach random strangers to spark up conversations regardless of language barriers!
It looks like I may have brought the rains with me from South America. Sorry, Germany!
Since I only had a day's layover in Germany before my bus to Croatia, I spent it doing some motorcycle gear shopping (OMG the selection!) and also visited the BMW Welt. It was under construction the last time we were here, but it's now completed.
I wasn't happy with any of the pictures of the Welt except this one. You can see me in the picture, I'm right in the middle.
Inside the Welt is a huge commercial for BMW car and motorcycles
And then every once in a while, someone would ride up to you and try to sell you an F800GS...
If you think this is cool, you should see the X5 salesguy...
I've been in Lima for a week now, patiently waiting for word from the logistics company that our bikes have passed customs. This is the sticky part of the shipping process and the reason why I stayed behind while Neda went ahead to Croatia. From all the research I've done, we do not want to be out of the country trying to troubleshoot remotely if there are any problems with Peruvian customs - which there frequently are.
Neda Skypes with me everyday and we keep each other apprised on the progress of her mother's health and how the customs process is shaping up. Although Neda is happy that she's able to visit her mom everyday in the hospital, her condition has deteriorated quite rapidly. The growths were malignant and were spreading very quickly, putting pressure on the spinal cord and paralyzing her below the neck. The whole family was now anxiously awaiting for a surgery date to remove the affected vertebrae and hopefully restore her mobility and feeling.
I listened to her voice everyday growing more and more concerned. She told me that she needed me in Croatia for support, and that maybe I should just trust in the logistics company to handle things after the bikes cleared customs. I was missing her presence a lot too. It's strange being joined at the hip with someone for over two years and then suddenly not having them around anymore. I've gotten so accustomed to just having her nearby, that during the last week, I'll be typing away on the laptop, or watching a movie or listening to music, then I'll stop what I'm doing to talk to Neda and then realize she's not there in the room.
But she's always there... Such a strange feeling...
A few days later, we got word that the bikes had cleared customs and would be on the next ship to Europe. I booked a ticket to Croatia immediately. Whereas it would take me two days of airplanes and buses to get to Croatia, our bikes were going to take the slow boat to Hamburg, crossing the Panama Canal in the process (again! ha!). It will be almost a month and a half before we will see our motorcycles in Zagreb!
Stopover in Munich
There's a train that runs from Munich airport to the downtown core. I boarded it, took a seat and watched other passengers trickle in. As the car began to fill up, I noticed how tightly I was holding onto my bags and luggage - and the only reason I noticed was because everyone else around me seemed to be so carefree and unafraid. One man fell asleep, his briefcase sitting unattended on the seat beside him. I glanced around wondering which one of the other passengers would steal his bag first... This is the third time I've been to Munich, but despite that I was still experiencing culture shock! After over a year and a half in Latin America, the blithe attitudes towards security and safety here were a bit unsettling.
And yes, I totally stole that guy's briefcase...
There is construction everytime I visit the Marienplatz. This time is no different.
There were several other cultural jolts:
- Everyone is so tall! In Central and South America, I would tower over most of the population. Now I'm dwarfed by a forest of Germanic oak trees.
- All the cars stop for pedestrians at the crosswalks. That was surprising! I gingerly stepped out onto a crosswalk in front of a stopped Mercedes thinking this must be a trick or a trap...
- Everyone speaks English! But they assume I speak German first. I was at a donair fast food stall and the guy at the counter asked me something which I didn't understand. I automatically defaulted to my first non-English language: "No entiendo". Picture a middle-eastern guy asking something in German, and an Asian guy responding in obviously bad Spanish. The donair guy narrowed his eyes at me. I'm sure he thought I was making fun of him in some way.
- Everything is SO CLEAN AND SO QUIET! OMG I LOVE IT!
Looking back, I don't think I could have picked a more diametrically opposite place from Peru to have come to than Germany.
Mariensaule - a gold statue of the Virgin Mary. This is what Marienplatz was named after
I've been to Munich 3 times now, and every single time I visit the Marienplatz just to see if the place is still under construction. The answer is yes. I've seen the little Glockenspiel show that is so popular with tourists and I'm always underwhelmed by it. So this time, my Central/South American instincts take me to that same gathering spot and my camera is now out trying to look for interesting indigenous peoples to take pictures of. I find one very quickly:
Wonder if he got his hat in Peru?
Locals call this "the most over-rated show in the world"
This is what I was really here for: dark German beer and sausages!
They said the best place for German sausages was Weisses Brauhaus, which is just around the corner from the Marienplatz, and was the primary reason why I was in the middle of MunichTouristCentral. The food and the beer didn't disappoint and I had another culture jolt in the restaurant: the bill...
And also, another German patron sitting at the same table from me kept glancing over at me with curiousity. I'd smile and nod and then he would smile and nod and then nothing. If this was Latin America, no time would have elapsed before: "Chino?" and then a hundred questions in Spanish which I couldn't answer. So I decided to break the ice with a "Sprechen sie English?" (yes, I do speak fluent Germglish), to which he replied, "Of course." Of course, he spoke English. Duh. We then had a great little conversation, which would never have happened if Latin America hadn't taught me that it's okay to approach random strangers to spark up conversations regardless of language barriers!
It looks like I may have brought the rains with me from South America. Sorry, Germany!
Since I only had a day's layover in Germany before my bus to Croatia, I spent it doing some motorcycle gear shopping (OMG the selection!) and also visited the BMW Welt. It was under construction the last time we were here, but it's now completed.
I wasn't happy with any of the pictures of the Welt except this one. You can see me in the picture, I'm right in the middle.
Inside the Welt is a huge commercial for BMW car and motorcycles
And then every once in a while, someone would ride up to you and try to sell you an F800GS...
If you think this is cool, you should see the X5 salesguy...
lightcycle
Nomad
Thanks Arlo! That is very generous of you.
Our bikes are being trucked from Hamburg to Zagreb, and should be here soon. If we are in your area, we will definitely let you know!
lightcycle
Nomad
Updated from http://www.RideDOT.com/rtw/166.html
After two long weeks apart, I joined Neda in Croatia. She's very happy that she's able to see her mom every day during visiting hours at the hospital, and now that I'm here, her support system is complete. We missed our 10th wedding anniversary while I was in Peru.
Re-united!
Pula is Neda's hometown in the Istrian peninsula of Croatia. The town is over 3,000 years old having been a part of the Roman Empire, the Italian Ostrogoths, the Germanic tribe of the Franks, the Venicians, then became part of the Austro-Hungarian Empire and then united with the Republic of Yugoslavia in 1947. All the signage in Pula is in both Croatian and Italian to reflect its roots, and also to cater to the large number of Italian tourists that visit the peninsula every summer. Neda learnt Italian by watching TV programs that leaked across the airwaves of the Adriatic sea, which is how she was able to pick up Spanish so easily while we were in Latin America. At least that's my excuse...
View of Arena from the Pula Marina
Pula's claim to fame is the Roman-built Arena, which rivals the Coliseum in Rome for size and history. While gladiators fought orcs and minotaurs in the olden days, now big stars like Sting and Norah Jones come into town to hold concerts here. This summer, Joss Stone and Lauryn Hill are slated to play here. Neda showed me all the places along the wall of Arena where she and her friends used to hop over the fence and sneak in to avoid paying the entrance fee.
View of Pula Harbor through the walls of Arena
Every summer, there is a Gladiator show twice a week in Arena. Here, the cast is literally hanging out before the show.
Ship-building is Pula's other claim-to-fame. Neda's mom used to work here, and her uncle and many other relatives still do
Golden Gates (or the Triumphal Arch of the Sergi) is another notable landmark in Pula
I've been to Pula many times in the past, but most of the time, it was to visit family. Now that we're here for a longer period of time, Neda is able to properly show me all the places that she used to roam around when she was a kid. We are in the middle of the European summer vacations, so the town is over-run with tourists from Italy, Slovenia, Germany, and all over Europe. Tourism is Pula's other main industry, and the town's narrow streets are inundated with foot and vehicle traffic that will all but disappear by the beginning of September.
Shadows of tourists walk past the buildings in the old historic centre of Pula
While Neda is happy to share her hometown with me, she is also excited that I'll document Pula properly on the blog. She's very proud of this place that holds so many memories for her. I hope I do this very pretty place justice. One thing she doesn't like are all the crowds. Everywhere we go, she shakes her head at the congestion clogging up her city streets.
Pulankan Biker
This guy came out to talk to us when he spied us gawking at his motorcycle. Our bikes are going to be quite a long time arriving in Europe, and we are starting to miss having easy transportation with us. It's fortunate that we are staying in Neda's mom's apartment close to the city centre so almost everything is within walking distance.
Tourist central - old historic Pula
Bikes are allowed to park anywhere in the old city.
When we get our bikes, we're going to ride the 400 meters to the historic centre, park there and watch people gawk at our motos!
After two long weeks apart, I joined Neda in Croatia. She's very happy that she's able to see her mom every day during visiting hours at the hospital, and now that I'm here, her support system is complete. We missed our 10th wedding anniversary while I was in Peru.
Re-united!
Pula is Neda's hometown in the Istrian peninsula of Croatia. The town is over 3,000 years old having been a part of the Roman Empire, the Italian Ostrogoths, the Germanic tribe of the Franks, the Venicians, then became part of the Austro-Hungarian Empire and then united with the Republic of Yugoslavia in 1947. All the signage in Pula is in both Croatian and Italian to reflect its roots, and also to cater to the large number of Italian tourists that visit the peninsula every summer. Neda learnt Italian by watching TV programs that leaked across the airwaves of the Adriatic sea, which is how she was able to pick up Spanish so easily while we were in Latin America. At least that's my excuse...
View of Arena from the Pula Marina
Pula's claim to fame is the Roman-built Arena, which rivals the Coliseum in Rome for size and history. While gladiators fought orcs and minotaurs in the olden days, now big stars like Sting and Norah Jones come into town to hold concerts here. This summer, Joss Stone and Lauryn Hill are slated to play here. Neda showed me all the places along the wall of Arena where she and her friends used to hop over the fence and sneak in to avoid paying the entrance fee.
View of Pula Harbor through the walls of Arena
Every summer, there is a Gladiator show twice a week in Arena. Here, the cast is literally hanging out before the show.
Ship-building is Pula's other claim-to-fame. Neda's mom used to work here, and her uncle and many other relatives still do
Golden Gates (or the Triumphal Arch of the Sergi) is another notable landmark in Pula
I've been to Pula many times in the past, but most of the time, it was to visit family. Now that we're here for a longer period of time, Neda is able to properly show me all the places that she used to roam around when she was a kid. We are in the middle of the European summer vacations, so the town is over-run with tourists from Italy, Slovenia, Germany, and all over Europe. Tourism is Pula's other main industry, and the town's narrow streets are inundated with foot and vehicle traffic that will all but disappear by the beginning of September.
Shadows of tourists walk past the buildings in the old historic centre of Pula
While Neda is happy to share her hometown with me, she is also excited that I'll document Pula properly on the blog. She's very proud of this place that holds so many memories for her. I hope I do this very pretty place justice. One thing she doesn't like are all the crowds. Everywhere we go, she shakes her head at the congestion clogging up her city streets.
Pulankan Biker
This guy came out to talk to us when he spied us gawking at his motorcycle. Our bikes are going to be quite a long time arriving in Europe, and we are starting to miss having easy transportation with us. It's fortunate that we are staying in Neda's mom's apartment close to the city centre so almost everything is within walking distance.
Tourist central - old historic Pula
Bikes are allowed to park anywhere in the old city.
When we get our bikes, we're going to ride the 400 meters to the historic centre, park there and watch people gawk at our motos!
lightcycle
Nomad
As is tradition, I always try to find an indigenous person to take a picture of when I go out with my camera
Arts and crafts for sale in the tourist centre of Pula
I ask Neda why she doesn't poke around the little curio stores in town, and she replies angrily, "That's what tourists do! I'm not a tourist!" The funny thing is these are *exactly* the same kinds of places that she loves going to when we're traveling. Like... EXACTLY! I stared hard at my new surroundings: the fresh paint on old buildings, new and expensive restaurants, bars and stores in the shells of Corinthian-styled edifices, the UNESCO-type-attraction of Arena that draws all the cameras and wallets out...
I told Neda, "Pula is a total GringoTrail town!" Her eyes widened, "OMG, I never realized it!"
Walking the city streets
Settling into Pula - I stake out my Man-Cave (Man-Corner)
It feels good to have a permanent place where we can settle down again. Neda is happy that there is a kitchen that she can use to cook, and we eat all of her favorite Croatian dishes now that the ingredients are all close at hand. The fridge is pretty much empty as she goes to the market every morning to get fresh groceries before visiting her mom in the hospital. One of Neda's friends is a musician and she lent me her guitar while we're here, which was really nice. Neda's old high-school friends are so compassionate and warm, taking us out almost every evening to keep us company and to keep Neda's thoughts and her mood positive while she attends to her mom.
More indigenous food, handed down from generation to generation - stuffed peppers
IndigeNeda takes me to all "The Best" places in town. This is "The Best" place in Pula for Burek, a traditional Bosnian cheese pastry
Bust of one of the National Heroes of Yugoslavia
Near the hospital where Neda visits Neda's mom is this interesting-looking building from the communist era. It used to be a military base for the Yugoslavian Army. When the former republic fell apart, the building fell into disuse and was set up as a refugee centre during the war in the mid 90s. Today it is being used as a very funky community centre, with many of its rooms being used by musicians, artists and various other clubs.
Courtyard of the community centre - still has a lot of the old-world communist feel to it
Karlo Rojc Community Centre
Pula hosts quite a lot of festivals and special events each summer. The most well known is the Pula Film Festival, which is mainly an outdoor event held at various locations in the city, including Arena. Unfortunately, Neda and I brought the RideDOT.com rains to Croatia, and it has been unseasonably wet and cold this summer. We attended a couple of films during the festival and one of them got rained out.
Pula Rain Festival
Arena is all lit up for a drier night at the Pula Film Festival
Fireworks over the city kick off the Pula Film Festival
Smoke from the lengthy fireworks display floats past the lights of the Arena,
making it look like a cool flying saucer
Cranes above the shipyard are lit up every night in the summer for the tourists, just like a GringoTrail town
JohnIndenver
New member
3 years later, I love your respectful photography-appreciation of people different from me, laughter factor, world view approach to travel and your unique understanding of EXPEDITION. In particular, the section on travel to Cuba, in Cuba and from Cuba was totally new to this Norte de Americano. What's next? Don't answer that question, surprise us.
lightcycle
Nomad
Thanks guys, really appreciate the kind words and the encouragement!
lightcycle
Nomad
Updated from http://www.RideDOT.com/rtw/167.html
I've been in Croatia for nearly three weeks now, Neda for over a month. We've really settled into some semblance of stability, all centred around Neda's daily visit to her mom. She is still waiting for a surgery date, and the family is getting anxious for her because she can't move at all in the hospital bed.
We've cocooned ourselves in the company of the extended family and friends. They've all rallied around us, spending almost every day with us, giving Neda the love and support to help her cope with the situation.
Goga, Neda's sister, serves us lunch. We are at her husband Mladen's parent's place
Mladen's parents are really taking good care of us, having us over often so the sisters can be together. They don't speak English, so I spend most of my time playing with our niece, Tea. I've noticed that most people in Pula under 40 know English, it's the older generation that only speaks Croatian and Italian, which is the de facto second language in Istra. Having been away from English-speaking countries for over a year and half now made me really reflect on the nature of new languages, especially now that I could see people trying to communicate with me in English, which may be their third or fourth language.
Tea shows me the pet turtles in her grandparent's house
Tea is growing up in a multi-lingual household. Living in Italy, her native language is Italian, but her parents and all her relatives speak Croatian to her. It's so interesting seeing how she relates to her English-speaking uncle. She calls Neda, "Teta Neda", using the Croatian word for Aunt but calls me "Zio Gene", the Italian word for Uncle, instinctively applying the non-Croatian term for me. I find it so familiar how she prioritizes her languages, similar to how Spanish is now my default whenever I try to speak non-English.
She is super-smart and quick as a whip in remembering things. She asked if I knew any Chinese words, so I recited the only thing I knew: counting from 1 to 10 in Mandarin. Chinese is a really difficult language to master because you have to not only get the pronunciation right, but also the intonation, otherwise the meaning changes completely. To all our astonishment, Tea recited all the numbers back to me perfectly, including the intonation, on her first try! She is going to be a natural with languages, just like her Teta Neda.
Tea is getting fed up with me and my Andre Agassi forehand roofing all the shuttlecocks...
After the hospital visits, we frequently go to the beach together
The pebbly beaches of Pula are a popular draw for tourists all over Europe. We have to search awhile to find an empty spot to lay our towels down.
Briscola is the name of the game, table talk is how you play the game...
Briscola is a popular Mediterranean card game, very similar to Euchre. However, unlike Euchre, table talk is totally allowed! IwuzlikeWHA?!? Each team can develop their own signals (like tugging your left ear, or scratching your chin) to communicate to each other how many trump cards they have and what kind of card to put down next. Just like Spanish and Croatian, I wasn't learning the signals fast enough and once again found myself Euchred in the communications game...
I'm good at this.
And I like taking pictures.
Neda welcomes Nera into her new home with a brand new toy
Oh yeah, almost forgot: we got a dog!
Finally after months of Neda trying to kidnap every single canine we've met on the road, we have a four-legged buddy we can call our own - if only temporarily. Neda has joined a volunteer organization called Ruka Sapi. They rescue stray dogs and cats from the streets of Pula. Since they don't have an official shelter, they house all the animals themselves in their own homes until they can find a new family for them.
My first little doggie ever!
Nera is a beautiful Croatian Sheepdog. She was found in the streets a few months ago with a broken leg after being hit by a car. The organization patched her up, and was keeping her in a homeless shelter (for people) but she had to be moved out to make space for other animals that required more medical attention. So we've offered to put Nera up with us until she can find a permanent home.
This is the first dog I've ever owned. Neda's had a few when she was living here. Nera came to us already housebroken, she was obviously abandoned by a previous owner. Very friendly, but a bit timid because she hasn't felt like she belonged anywhere for a while. It didn't take long for her to make herself at home with us. I was blown away by Nera's ability to communicate what she wanted whether she needed to go out for a pee (very important), hungry, or was itching to go for a walk. Such a smart girl! Even a dog can communicate better than I can and she can't even talk!
Finally, Neda has a little buddy!
Statistics indicate that black dogs are the least adopted dogs. They say that there is a stigma with black dogs, that they're perceived to be more aggressive and they point to the "evil black dog" stereotype in movies and TV shows. This is so far from the truth, Nera is such a gentle and affectionate girl! They also say that black dogs are difficult to photograph, so they don't look good in adoption ads. This is very true. Looking through all the pictures I've taken of Nera, the camera always seems to focus on a table or a nearby foot, anything but the evil black dog...
The post office where we pick up our parcels. Funky looking building!
We're really taking advantage of having a shipping address that we can send stuff to. Being on the road for so long, there are a lot of things that have piled up in my parent's mailbox in Canada that can't be faxed, scanned or sent electronically. I've got about 2 years of Loblaws flyers to catch up on! We also take the opportunity to refresh some of the motorcycle gear that has worn down or needs replacing.
Nona and Neda
This is Neda's mom's mom. Everytime we visit Croatia, we pay a visit to nona and then she feeds us. She loves feeding people! She doesn't speak any English at all, but that doesn't stop her from talking to me in Croatian non-stop as if I understood every single word. That was refreshing because normally when people try to communicate with me here, they do it through Neda, only turning to look at me once Neda starts translating. Nona doesn't even ask Neda to translate, she just looks me in the eye, gives me some sage advice (or compliments me on my full head of hair, or tells me what her secret ingredient in her Burek is, I don't really know), and then flashes me a knowing smile. I like the feeling of being part of natural conversation, instead of waiting for the UN interpreter's delayed translation.
Earlier on, there was a big cultural misunderstanding between nona and I. You see, in the Asian culture, when someone puts a plate of food in front of you, it's considered a sign of respect to finish every last morsel on that plate. However, to nona, that was a signal that you wanted more food. I kept cleaning the plate and she kept piling it on, no matter how much I objected that I was already full! It was like a race to see how much food she could move from the stove to my belly.
I suspect that I am one of nona's favorite visitors. There is no higher compliment you can pay to a Croatian grandmother than to clean out her fridge and pantry. In fact, I'm going back there again tonight, whether she's there or not.
Spy King.
Every Wednesday, Neda's group of friends rents a volleyball court for a couple of hours down by the beaches. They're all ex-jocks from high school so the level of play is competitive. Unfortunately, one week during a game, Neda slipped a disc, and not in the fun-frisbee kind of way. I make fun of her because during this trip, the only time she gets injured is at home and when she is off the bike. While in Toronto, last year she almost severed a tendon in her finger while wrestling a can opener. Couldn't ride for two months. And now here she can't ride for another few weeks because of her lower back.
Volleyball is kind of special sport for Neda and I. 19 years ago (almost to the day actually), a pretty, young girl showed up to the YMCA where I regularly played recreational volleyball. She went around to every person in the gym before we started, shook their hand and introduced herself very formally. That was quite unusual, because in Toronto, a brief, cold look and then avoiding eye contact is fairly standard when meeting strangers.
She spoke virtually no English. My chances at impressing HotImmigrantGirl shot up exponentially...
I met Neda shortly thereafter.
Neda and Iva after volleyball
Iva is one of Neda's few non-jock friends. While the rest of her crew are all ex-handball or volleyball players, Iva likes art instead. She jokingly tells me how Neda and her jock friends used to tease her about her pink unitards in gym class, since the standard uniform was all black. I'm learning all sorts of new things about my bride. I asked Iva if Neda also threw slushies in every one's faces in the hallways at school...
Iva and I would have gotten along well in high school. Because Neda would have pushed both of us into a locker and locked us inside!
Karin is one of Neda's oldest and closest friends
In between work, Karin still finds time to regularly pack up her two little kids into her car, drive in from out of town just to give Neda some GirlCompany. I really admire that. She must have super powers or something. On this particular visit, I asked how she was and she replied, "I was a little bit sick yesterday, was throwing up and felt really bad, but I'm feeling a little better today". Yeah, I guess Kryptonite will do that to you...
We regularly get together with all of Neda's friends at each others houses and have pot luck dinners. Eating out in restaurants is super-expensive because all the businesses have jacked up their prices for the tourists, and Croatia is an expensive country to live in to begin with. Besides, everyone here says the tourist restaurants serve crap anyway. The homecooked food tastes much better! So if you're visiting Pula, make friends with a local and invite yourself over. I'll give you nona's address.
Oh, Tajo!
Tajana (pronounced Tie-Anna) is one of our social co-ordinators in Pula. She organizes all of our social gatherings as well as extra-curricular activities like visits to the neighbouring villages and towns. She works for a historical society, so she knows everything there is to know about Istria. Tajana's English is not as good, but it's waaay better than my non-existent Croatian. When Neda translates what Tajo is saying, I'm bowled over as to how funny she is, something that doesn't come across when she's trying to speak English to me. That struck such a chord in me, because I know *EXACTLY* how it feels to not have your true personality come across in the words you speak.
Tajo also told Neda, "I'd like to speak to Gene more, but my ego prevents me from sounding like a 5-year-old". OMG. That one line totally articulates the way I felt the last 18 months about my hesitancy to even try speaking Spanish. She totally hit the nail on the head.
"beep beeep beeeeep beep beeep!"
Tina is Tajana's niece. Even at 3-years old, she's picked up on the fact that I don't speak or understand Croatian, so she communicates by beep-ing to me. After a bit of time, I've begun to understand what she's saying. For instance in the picture above, she's saying:
"I'm going to strangle you when the grown-ups aren't looking!"
We are in Pula, Croatia, and it looks like we're going to be here for awhile. But we're surrounded by lots of good people that are itching to take care of Neda and I. They wrap around us like a warm blanket and I'm so very grateful for that. Hvala vam!
I've been in Croatia for nearly three weeks now, Neda for over a month. We've really settled into some semblance of stability, all centred around Neda's daily visit to her mom. She is still waiting for a surgery date, and the family is getting anxious for her because she can't move at all in the hospital bed.
We've cocooned ourselves in the company of the extended family and friends. They've all rallied around us, spending almost every day with us, giving Neda the love and support to help her cope with the situation.
Goga, Neda's sister, serves us lunch. We are at her husband Mladen's parent's place
Mladen's parents are really taking good care of us, having us over often so the sisters can be together. They don't speak English, so I spend most of my time playing with our niece, Tea. I've noticed that most people in Pula under 40 know English, it's the older generation that only speaks Croatian and Italian, which is the de facto second language in Istra. Having been away from English-speaking countries for over a year and half now made me really reflect on the nature of new languages, especially now that I could see people trying to communicate with me in English, which may be their third or fourth language.
Tea shows me the pet turtles in her grandparent's house
Tea is growing up in a multi-lingual household. Living in Italy, her native language is Italian, but her parents and all her relatives speak Croatian to her. It's so interesting seeing how she relates to her English-speaking uncle. She calls Neda, "Teta Neda", using the Croatian word for Aunt but calls me "Zio Gene", the Italian word for Uncle, instinctively applying the non-Croatian term for me. I find it so familiar how she prioritizes her languages, similar to how Spanish is now my default whenever I try to speak non-English.
She is super-smart and quick as a whip in remembering things. She asked if I knew any Chinese words, so I recited the only thing I knew: counting from 1 to 10 in Mandarin. Chinese is a really difficult language to master because you have to not only get the pronunciation right, but also the intonation, otherwise the meaning changes completely. To all our astonishment, Tea recited all the numbers back to me perfectly, including the intonation, on her first try! She is going to be a natural with languages, just like her Teta Neda.
Tea is getting fed up with me and my Andre Agassi forehand roofing all the shuttlecocks...
After the hospital visits, we frequently go to the beach together
The pebbly beaches of Pula are a popular draw for tourists all over Europe. We have to search awhile to find an empty spot to lay our towels down.
Briscola is the name of the game, table talk is how you play the game...
Briscola is a popular Mediterranean card game, very similar to Euchre. However, unlike Euchre, table talk is totally allowed! IwuzlikeWHA?!? Each team can develop their own signals (like tugging your left ear, or scratching your chin) to communicate to each other how many trump cards they have and what kind of card to put down next. Just like Spanish and Croatian, I wasn't learning the signals fast enough and once again found myself Euchred in the communications game...
I'm good at this.
And I like taking pictures.
Neda welcomes Nera into her new home with a brand new toy
Oh yeah, almost forgot: we got a dog!
Finally after months of Neda trying to kidnap every single canine we've met on the road, we have a four-legged buddy we can call our own - if only temporarily. Neda has joined a volunteer organization called Ruka Sapi. They rescue stray dogs and cats from the streets of Pula. Since they don't have an official shelter, they house all the animals themselves in their own homes until they can find a new family for them.
My first little doggie ever!
Nera is a beautiful Croatian Sheepdog. She was found in the streets a few months ago with a broken leg after being hit by a car. The organization patched her up, and was keeping her in a homeless shelter (for people) but she had to be moved out to make space for other animals that required more medical attention. So we've offered to put Nera up with us until she can find a permanent home.
This is the first dog I've ever owned. Neda's had a few when she was living here. Nera came to us already housebroken, she was obviously abandoned by a previous owner. Very friendly, but a bit timid because she hasn't felt like she belonged anywhere for a while. It didn't take long for her to make herself at home with us. I was blown away by Nera's ability to communicate what she wanted whether she needed to go out for a pee (very important), hungry, or was itching to go for a walk. Such a smart girl! Even a dog can communicate better than I can and she can't even talk!
Finally, Neda has a little buddy!
Statistics indicate that black dogs are the least adopted dogs. They say that there is a stigma with black dogs, that they're perceived to be more aggressive and they point to the "evil black dog" stereotype in movies and TV shows. This is so far from the truth, Nera is such a gentle and affectionate girl! They also say that black dogs are difficult to photograph, so they don't look good in adoption ads. This is very true. Looking through all the pictures I've taken of Nera, the camera always seems to focus on a table or a nearby foot, anything but the evil black dog...
The post office where we pick up our parcels. Funky looking building!
We're really taking advantage of having a shipping address that we can send stuff to. Being on the road for so long, there are a lot of things that have piled up in my parent's mailbox in Canada that can't be faxed, scanned or sent electronically. I've got about 2 years of Loblaws flyers to catch up on! We also take the opportunity to refresh some of the motorcycle gear that has worn down or needs replacing.
Nona and Neda
This is Neda's mom's mom. Everytime we visit Croatia, we pay a visit to nona and then she feeds us. She loves feeding people! She doesn't speak any English at all, but that doesn't stop her from talking to me in Croatian non-stop as if I understood every single word. That was refreshing because normally when people try to communicate with me here, they do it through Neda, only turning to look at me once Neda starts translating. Nona doesn't even ask Neda to translate, she just looks me in the eye, gives me some sage advice (or compliments me on my full head of hair, or tells me what her secret ingredient in her Burek is, I don't really know), and then flashes me a knowing smile. I like the feeling of being part of natural conversation, instead of waiting for the UN interpreter's delayed translation.
Earlier on, there was a big cultural misunderstanding between nona and I. You see, in the Asian culture, when someone puts a plate of food in front of you, it's considered a sign of respect to finish every last morsel on that plate. However, to nona, that was a signal that you wanted more food. I kept cleaning the plate and she kept piling it on, no matter how much I objected that I was already full! It was like a race to see how much food she could move from the stove to my belly.
I suspect that I am one of nona's favorite visitors. There is no higher compliment you can pay to a Croatian grandmother than to clean out her fridge and pantry. In fact, I'm going back there again tonight, whether she's there or not.
Spy King.
Every Wednesday, Neda's group of friends rents a volleyball court for a couple of hours down by the beaches. They're all ex-jocks from high school so the level of play is competitive. Unfortunately, one week during a game, Neda slipped a disc, and not in the fun-frisbee kind of way. I make fun of her because during this trip, the only time she gets injured is at home and when she is off the bike. While in Toronto, last year she almost severed a tendon in her finger while wrestling a can opener. Couldn't ride for two months. And now here she can't ride for another few weeks because of her lower back.
Volleyball is kind of special sport for Neda and I. 19 years ago (almost to the day actually), a pretty, young girl showed up to the YMCA where I regularly played recreational volleyball. She went around to every person in the gym before we started, shook their hand and introduced herself very formally. That was quite unusual, because in Toronto, a brief, cold look and then avoiding eye contact is fairly standard when meeting strangers.
She spoke virtually no English. My chances at impressing HotImmigrantGirl shot up exponentially...
I met Neda shortly thereafter.
Neda and Iva after volleyball
Iva is one of Neda's few non-jock friends. While the rest of her crew are all ex-handball or volleyball players, Iva likes art instead. She jokingly tells me how Neda and her jock friends used to tease her about her pink unitards in gym class, since the standard uniform was all black. I'm learning all sorts of new things about my bride. I asked Iva if Neda also threw slushies in every one's faces in the hallways at school...
Iva and I would have gotten along well in high school. Because Neda would have pushed both of us into a locker and locked us inside!
Karin is one of Neda's oldest and closest friends
In between work, Karin still finds time to regularly pack up her two little kids into her car, drive in from out of town just to give Neda some GirlCompany. I really admire that. She must have super powers or something. On this particular visit, I asked how she was and she replied, "I was a little bit sick yesterday, was throwing up and felt really bad, but I'm feeling a little better today". Yeah, I guess Kryptonite will do that to you...
We regularly get together with all of Neda's friends at each others houses and have pot luck dinners. Eating out in restaurants is super-expensive because all the businesses have jacked up their prices for the tourists, and Croatia is an expensive country to live in to begin with. Besides, everyone here says the tourist restaurants serve crap anyway. The homecooked food tastes much better! So if you're visiting Pula, make friends with a local and invite yourself over. I'll give you nona's address.
Oh, Tajo!
Tajana (pronounced Tie-Anna) is one of our social co-ordinators in Pula. She organizes all of our social gatherings as well as extra-curricular activities like visits to the neighbouring villages and towns. She works for a historical society, so she knows everything there is to know about Istria. Tajana's English is not as good, but it's waaay better than my non-existent Croatian. When Neda translates what Tajo is saying, I'm bowled over as to how funny she is, something that doesn't come across when she's trying to speak English to me. That struck such a chord in me, because I know *EXACTLY* how it feels to not have your true personality come across in the words you speak.
Tajo also told Neda, "I'd like to speak to Gene more, but my ego prevents me from sounding like a 5-year-old". OMG. That one line totally articulates the way I felt the last 18 months about my hesitancy to even try speaking Spanish. She totally hit the nail on the head.
"beep beeep beeeeep beep beeep!"
Tina is Tajana's niece. Even at 3-years old, she's picked up on the fact that I don't speak or understand Croatian, so she communicates by beep-ing to me. After a bit of time, I've begun to understand what she's saying. For instance in the picture above, she's saying:
"I'm going to strangle you when the grown-ups aren't looking!"
We are in Pula, Croatia, and it looks like we're going to be here for awhile. But we're surrounded by lots of good people that are itching to take care of Neda and I. They wrap around us like a warm blanket and I'm so very grateful for that. Hvala vam!
G Beasley
sawzall surgeon
This had me laughing loud enough that my wife had to come to read over my shoulder , thanks for the laugh this morning.