Saturday, July 19, 2008

Epi-blog
Well, it's been over a month since we've been home. I already feel like I've lost touch with Dubrovnik, now having to drive a car to get to the grocery store and work, swimming in a plastic pool, cooking my own meals (with nary a fresh octupus in sight).

We left Saturday morning (July 12), early. The night before we said goodbye to our landlords, Cristo and Maria; they gave us each a bag of figs to take home, a remembrance of our wonderful trip.

The taxi arrived at the base of personal hell at 6:00 a.m. Mr. Vincent bid us farewell as we took the 30-minute ride to the airport. As we entered the room to board, we saw Gene, one of the students from the program. He would be on the same flights as us, as far as London/Heathrow. It was wonderful to have another friendly, familiar face on our journey.

Cathy and I were fortunate enough to have business class seating on our flights from Dubrovnik to Zagreb and Zagreb to London. Not that the plane was huge, but we had real china and glassware, cloth napkins; a delicious cherry juice, a cheese blintz, pepper cookies. When we asked Gene what he had back in coach seating, he replied, "an olive and a piece of bread" (that still cracks me up as I write it... I think he was kidding... at least I hope he was.)
Arriving in London, we had a brief wait to catch our overseas flight to Philly. The terminal we were in was like a small shopping mall... so many stores and shops... World of Whiskies, Caviar Center, Harrods! I went into Harrods, not to purchase anything, but just so I could say I had been in there :)

We said our goodbyes to Gene, as his flight to Chicago left after ours. We boarded the plane, not realizing how much we would feel like sardines. I swear, two of the largest men on the entire flight sat in front of and behind me. Thank goodness for my daily dose of glucosamine! The flight was relatively uneventful; there was a young couple nearby with two small children. The mother and baby boy sat in one row, the father and toddler daughter in the row behind. During the entire flight the kids were awake and passed back and forth between their parents to entertain them. As fate would have it, they both fell asleep minutes before we landed in Philadelphia. I complimented the mother on her patience; she looked exhausted.

As the co-pilot came on the PA system to annouce that cell phones, PDA's, etc. should be turned off, he concluded his announcement with a quiet "Marty, where are you?". Puzzled, people smiled and looked at each other but thought little of it. The co-pilot came back on a few minutes later with the same announcement. This time he ended it with, "... and the crew would like Captain Marty to come up to the cockpit to fly the plane." We burst out laughing.

About one and one-half hours before we landed we saw the infamous Captain Marty make his way through the plane, chatting with passengers, asking about their travel plans, making general conversation. He got to Cathy's and my seats and asked us where we had been, what we had been doing. We explained we were captionists, we had been in Dubrovnik for five weeks supporting a student who was hard-of-hearing. He was interested and polite, but we got that kind of confused "I don't get it, but I'll smile and nod and pretend I do" look that people give when they're not really sure what you do, as much as you try explaining it in layperson's terms.

We approached the east coast and Captain Marty came on the PA system to point out landmarks; Martha's Vineyard (what the heck were we doing way up there?), the Jersey Shore (home to Bruce Springsteen and Jon Bon Jovi). We attempted to land in Philly, but there was a backup of planes, and so we flew around for an extra 15 minutes (I think that's when the little ones just started settling into sleep mode). With the exception of one poor girl who got sick during our second attempt at landing, it was relatively uneventful. As we were de-boarding (is that the right term?), Captain Marty congratulated the honeymooners, he wished a wonderful vacation to the little girl who was coming to the USA for the first time and he welcomed back to the States the "two educators who just spent five weeks in Croatia". Cathy and I looked at each other; ok, so we're not "educators" (then again, everyone is an educator and a disciple, right?), but we were tickled to be mentioned. Thanks, Captain Marty!

A short layover in Philly and we were on our way to Rochester, to the open arms of our family and to life as we left it in what seemed like ages ago.

Croatia was an amazing experience. Cathy and I both realize how blessed and lucky we were to have the opportunity to do what we love in a whole new environment. And we also realized how blessed we are to have families and co-workers and friends who kept us in their thoughts and prayers while we worked and played and traveled and climbed each and every one of those steps. Thank you for sharing our journey with us!

Mir... annette & Cathy

all good things...

yes.. you know how the saying goes..


Wednesday was our last day of classes. Our student leaves for home today to attend a family wedding, so this morning we will pack up our equipment, clean up our work areas and begin loading up our suitcases with clothes and trinkets and memories. To say this trip has been incredible is way beyond understatement.


To make myself feel better about leaving, I made this list of things I will NOT miss about Dubrovnik:


1) smoking in cafes and restaurants
2) lack of Dunkin Donuts
3) all those damned tourists


Yeah, I realize it's a short list. The list of why I would want to stay is much longer and more complex... the atmosphere, culture, history. The events and activities that begin today with the start of summer festival (fireworks, yippee!). The incredible foods, fresh in their simplicity. The people, as varied and diverse as any other country, but as special and unique as only Croatians can be. The music and squeaky toy birds, the view from the balcony, the daily walk through and around Old Town.

... the little treats our landlord has brought us; beautiful roses, plates of desserts, fresh picked lemons.


... my mornings and evenings on the balcony, watching the ships and boats in the harbor, seeing and hearing the goings-on in Old Town. Watching the sun peel back from Lokrum and then Old Town each morning, like a piece of dark saran wrap unveiling the town below. Laughing with Mrs. Cathy about silly things.


... the apple strudel and the sandwiches "as big as your head". The vegetable risotto at Fuego, the salmon salad at Restaurant Dubrovna, the dessert at Dolce Vita.


... swimming in the Adriatic, and the wonderful buoyancy of salt water.

... the odd and varied selections of items at Kerum and Tommy markets. The unusual bathrooms in all shapes, sizes and configurations.

... ordering bottled water "no gas".

... the lectures of Zoran and Professor Stasa and Professor Kate, learning so much about this history and people of this wonderful place.

I will even miss the pigeons, who I've come to co-exist in an odd "immersion therapy" sort of way.

This list is only partial; I'm sure as I settle back into Bloomfield, fleeting glimpses, memories of what I've seen or heard or experienced with push their way back into my mind. I only hope that happens for a long time to come, keeping my Croatian trip as fresh as possible.

Thank you to all for your comments, notes, prayers, good wishes and even your jealousy... I know you meant it in a loving way (you did, didn't you?!) :)

I will try to post again when home, adding any new pics as we will have a traditional Croatian lunch today "under the bell" and I'll want to share that with you as well. For now, I am grateful for all of you at home keeping me in your thoughts... and for the chance to share my adventures with you.

love and mir.. annette

departure depression

Well, Cathy and I are now counting off the days... "today is our last Monday here..." It's hard to believe we've been here a whole month and fly home in a matter of days. As much as I have missed, and will love seeing, my family and friends, being someplace familiar, having my Dunkin Donuts coffee, Dubrovnik has also become familiar to me. Saturday Cathy was not feeling well, so I made a solo trek to the grocery store, an hour's walk from our apartment. Despite my frustration in not being able to find peanut butter (but knowing enough to ask for kiki riki namaz, if I had decided to), I felt the most like a native since I had arrived here. I knew which yogurt to buy, I knew to have my zucchini weighed before I went to the checkout, I knew the difference between tissues and feminine products (don't laugh! without pictures on some of the packaging, god knows what I would be buying!). Purchases in hand, I waited (like a big girl :) for the bus to take me near to Upper Hell, for the 174 stairs up to 13 Bruna Busica, my Croatian home away from home.

Sunday Cathy and I headed to the Cathedral of the Assumption of Mary; one of the churches in Old Town. The Sunday before as I wandered about I heard the choir and decided I had to attend the service. Again a service completely in Croatian, but I could understand some of the parts of the mass from my Catholic upbringing. And the choir was wonderful; probably a dozen members but with the high vaulted ceilings and acoustics it sounded like 50.

We wandered through Old Town, stopped at the college and then hit Fuego for an early dinner. Maybe it was the heat of the day (or the heat accumulated from so many days) or the salmon pasta or just, as Mr. Vincent termed it "departure depression", but the trudge up the stairs that night was especially exhausting. A quick shower outside and I laid down at 6:30p, not to get up again until 6:00a.

The summer festival begins here Thursday. It's weeks and weeks of different events, music, dancing, fireworks (we will get to see those :)... and we realized we would be missing almost all of it. On one hand, it will be nice not having to jostle with the crowds of tourists unleashed on Old Town from the tour busses and cruise ships. On the other hand, I will miss the sounds of squeaky toy birds and the wonderfully fresh food and gelato and the pace of European living. This experience has been marvelous; to work and sightsee, sometimes simultaneously, is a pleasure very few people get to have to themselves. I do realize how lucky I am to have been given this opportunity.

But... all good things come to conclusion... and one should remember to smile because it happened, not cry because it's over (yeah, yeah, sappy cliches, but I can be like that :).

One or two more posts, then I'll be flying home... but with memories and pictures and the experience of being in a foreign land and absorbing all it has to offer.

Adio for now.. and mir.. annette

vineyards of Peljesac

Friday afternoon was our last class field trip. We loaded up into the vans at 9am and headed towards Ston and Peljesac (pela-sheck). After about an hour and a half, we arrived in Ston, only to glance upwards at the stone walkway and walls that loomed above us. It was hot.. it was sunny.. we were tired. Thankfully, Jackie decided not to make the journey up the hill so we enjoyed coffee in one of the cafes while we waited for rest of the group. I'm not ashamed to say I was relieved... I wish I could have done this trip 20 years ago! :)

There were shops, cafes and a fresh market nearby, as well as an abandoned church that was fenced in. I was able to get slip between some of the wooden slats to get a picture. There are also salt beds in this town where they mine salt, with small carts on rails to transport the carts.

Onward to the vineyards of Peljesac. We arrived at the vineyard and the vans parked and let us off near a long dark tunnel. It was actually quite pleasant, as it was cool inside, but I couldn't help hearing "Hi Ho, Hi Ho" in my head as we walked through. On the other side we came to a road and turned left and headed downhill. As with most of this area, one side was mountains and hills and the other, the sea.

Here, the grapes grow on the hills without trellises and they are grown without the use of pesticides or chemicals. The soil from the mountains and the sea below are sufficient in nutrients to grow the grapes. When they have to be harvested, workers attach themselves to the hillside and rappel down the mountain to pick the grapes; there are no tiers or footholds to stand on. In this region they also have a tradition during the harvest. Because there are so many vineyards and each family only has the means to harvest a portion of their crops, every family comes together to help each other pick the grapes and get them delivered for processing. Even if families have been arguing with each other through the year, they set aside their differences for the harvest and help each other out; the tradition is called "ponce" or "pride".

After our hike we were served lunch at the vineyard restaurant, a 500-year old dwelling with a 200-year old winepress (where they disquised the stereo/sound system inside). The fare was traditional: lentil soup, bread, anchovies with capers and lemon juice, prosciutto, cheeses and the best grilled vegetables ever. Of course, this was accompanied by wine-tasting; white, red, rose, deep red and a sweet dessert wine. The dessert wine was the most expensive, as they usually use 1 1/2 kgs. of grapes for a bottle of wine, they use 16-18 kgs. of grapes for the dessert wine.

Tired, hot but well fed and watered, we made our way home, again singing (even Professor Stasa joined us on the chorus of "American Pie") as we traveled the coast. Our hosts for all our trips have been wonderful, the meals were marvelous and the education, unparalleled.

Until next post.. mir.. annette

touring Old Town's churches

Wednesday afternoon we met Professor Kate at the Onofrio Fountain for a tour of some of the monasteries and museums in Old Town. Thankfully we were in shade or inside for part of the tour.

Our first stop was the Franciscan monastery with its cloisters flanked by Renaissance columns. Again, we are so lucky to have Professor Kate as a personal tourguide for all the history Old Town holds. There was an original painting, as well as a copy, in the musuem of what Old Town looked like before the earthquake of 1667. The original painting and many other treasures were inside a special room where no cameras were allowed, unfortunately.

Inside the special room were robes worn by the priests with intricate and magnificent embroidery. There were ornate chalices, relics, paintings and icons and jewelry... rows and rows of jewelry. Cathy was puzzled; why would Franciscan monks have earrings and rings with diamonds and pearls and precious stones? Well, many families donated their possessions to the church for favors or special prayers... mystery solved. The Franciscan monastery also currently houses a pharmacy; in the museum there were weights and scales and prescription 'recipes' displayed as well.

Onward to the Dominican monastery, which houses one of the more extensive collections of art and relics in Dubrovnik. The cloisters (hallways where the monks and friars walked and mediated and communed with nature) contain pillars with more of a Gothic influence. Within the cloisters was a small yard with a well head and a lemon tree that produces fruit the size of grapefruits, but none were available at that moment. The church itself was incredible, a high arch above a very simple altar, with a more ornate altar to the side.

Next stop was another church which was actually rebuilt twice; the original just discovered beneath the second and third rebuildings only recently. I walked past this church last Sunday during one of the services and heard the choir... so beautiful it brought tears to my eyes... guess where I'm going to church this Sunday? :)

Professor Kate said the history books will have to be rewritten to include these new findings. We weren't able to stay in the church very long, (and in many of the churches we could not take pictures because of the value of the artwork inside) because some of the students were not appropriately dressed. (not appropriate being defined as tank tops and shorts... they take their religion very seriously here). You can see on the side of the church where the mortars and bombs left their mark.

Onward to the last few stops; a fountain that was partially destroyed during the war and then restored thanks to contributions from a group of German people. Then onto the Jesuit church and college, with steps (oh no, more steps!)... St. Ignatius was amazing. I wish I could have taken pictures of the frescos painted around and over the altar; since I couldn't, I've attached a link which will show you, but it pales in comparison to the real thing. There is a college right next door, where students have a rigorous curriculum of Latin and other difficult subjects. http://www.triptouch.com/croatia/dubrovnik/photos/1113

Our last stop was the Rector's Palace and we were only able to walk in just a little way. It used to house the Rector who was elected for a one-month term during Roman times. They didn't want people getting too comfortable, or corrupt, during their tenure, so there was constant turnover. Within the palace is one bronze statue of a sea captain, considered unique for the time. Normally there were no statues recognizing citizens and such, but this sea captain had donated all of his wealth to the government and the statue was the town's way of showing their appreciation.

That concludes the tour of Old Town for today; stay tuned for our next adventure, touring the vineyards of Peljesac.

mir.. annette

the walls (and roofs) of the city

Monday afternoon the art class took a field trip walking along the city walls of Old Town. We made a circuit around the entire area and the new perspective and viewpoint was just as incredible as the view from our balcony. Pictures are attached.

Within the city walls there are Franciscan and Jesuit monasteries and a few Catholic churches. There is a bell tower that was hit in 1991 during the war, despite being labeled with a red cross and a UNESCO (United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organization) sign. The tower suffered 51 direct hits from the hills north of Dubrovnik.

There were other areas in Old Town that suffered damages; many incurred because the soldiers fighting were not as much experienced and determined to take out certain monuments but because the soldiers sent to fight and bomb Old Town were young and inexperienced. When people speak about the war here, it's almost matter-of-factly... they seem to have a resilience that is admirable and optimistic.

There are fortresses to the south and east of Old Town; designed to keep the harbors strong and secure. The roofs of the houses, all those lovely red tiles you see, are not necessarily the originals. The original tiles were different colors and were formed on a man's thighs, giving them the unique shape that protects the building's roofs from the elements.

There is a great deal of reconstruction and restoration continually going on in Old Town; preserving as much of the original structures (a mixture of Roman, Greek, Renaissance with a touch of Baroque) as possible. You see a old worn facade outside and once you enter, you see golden gilding and statues, icons and structures that have withstood hundreds of years of wear. It's really indescribable and pictures don't capture all the beauty and details you see in person.

Today's field trip is a tour of some of the museums and churches in Old Town, so my next post will include that...

until then.. mir.. annette

up the coast to Split

(I'm never quite sure how the pictures are going to view once I post the blog, so just know that the pics above are all from Split; most from Diocletian's Palace and the harborfront.)

Friday was our longest field trip day yet; a four-hour ride along the Dalmatian Coast to Split, the second largest city in Croatia. The ride was magnificent; the view of the coast was breathtaking... again, sea and islands to our left, mountains to our right. And what made the trip doubly pleasant was air conditioning!! The day before, island hopping, the temperature had to be in the 90s and it was sweltering, after awhile, we didn't even bother wiping off sweat. This day we rode along in climate-controlled comfort. I could barely contain my glee.

We arrived in Split before noon and took off for Diocletian's Palace. Built in 305AD, the structure still stands and is in use as living and commerce space. It's overwhelming to think of how many people have moved through this area.

Outside the palace was a huge statue of Grgur Ninski (Gregory of Nin), a tenth-century bishop who introduced Croatian language into the religious services of the time. The statue is almost 50 feet tall and legend has it if you rub his big toe, it will bring you good luck. Who am I to question legend? Of course I rubbed it... a handful of hot brass big toe!!

We wandered through the palace area and the picture with the pillars and tall archway is where we entered the underground market area (you see people walking into that dark rectangle with stairs on either side). Inside were vendors with souvenirs; marble, religious relics, jewelry. It is awe-inspiring to think how long ago these structures were built and that they still stand... and are in use. As we shopped and waited for everyone to assemble, two Roman soldiers strolled through the main aisle of the underground market. One was kind enough to pose so I could take his picture (and I used my best Croatian to ask: "Molim (moe-leem - please) and Hvala (vah-la - thank you); I imagined how hundreds and hundreds of years ago, he would have been much more authentic.

After a lunch, again in blessed air-conditioning, we headed to a modern shopping mall for a little retail therapy. For some reason, I wasn't too excited to be there; all this history surrounding us... I can go to Eastview anytime! Our next stop was a church nearby Split. There was a small cemetery in the adjoining yard and I was able to get a few pictures of family burial plots. Many of plots were family members, with their pictures on the gravestones.

One last stop to see the sports stadium and we were on our way back "home". This time, our trip began down a mountainous area rather than along the coast. Luisa and Tanya were singing songs in Spanish in the way back, and Cathy and I decided to show off our musical skills as well. That's when we were asked requests from the "O Brother, Where Art Thou" soundtrack. Gladly, Cathy and I performed "Some Glad Morning" and "Keep on The Sunny Side", in delightful harmony, I might add. Cathy whispered, "I wonder what we should prepare as an encore?" and I replied, "well, we haven't been asked yet".. lol

Cathy did perform a solo though, "Jesus Loves Me" as we began our drive down the mountain, the steep, winding, curvy mountain, with very few guardrails. How she managed to keep her voice from shaking, I don't know, as my hands were cemented over my eyes. I was never so happy to see the coast!

The ride home seemed shorter, even being four hours long. We came upon a car that had an accident; hit a tree along the windy coast road. Our driver, who knew a little English, uttered an expletive, then as we passed he said, "asta la vista, Mercedes". The car was toast, but it didn't look like the driver had been injured, thankfully. Also, as we neared Dubrovnik, about an hour or so away, we were treated to a magnificent lightening storm. The cracks of lightening illuminating the coast and the islands were amazing. The driver dropped the students off, then took Vincent, Mrs. Cathy and myself as far as Bikers Caffee. With the thunder in the background, we made our way up Upper Hell and Personal Hell just before the rains began. Of course, here, rain storms are fairly brief events, but it felt nice to be safe and sound in the apartment.

Our trip to Split was long but interesting and educational. I thought I would enjoy being back in the "big city" atmosphere, but in actuality, I missed our Old Town. I know I'll be looking forward to getting home and seeing my men, but I will miss my mornings and evenings on the balcony, overlooking the Dalmatian Coast and the Adriatic Sea, watching the sun peel back from the hills and islands, and finally Old Town.

Next adventure... touring Old Town and walking along the city walls; a new perspective of an "old place".

until then.. mir.. annette