Basically, it was Woodrow Wilson’s fault

I am in constant awe of this place’s history. For so long I have studied development mostly focused on Latin America. For the past two years I have been learning about IMF/WB intrusion on economies, capitalism as the evil doer, cultural survival, anti privatization, corporate scum, the big bad globalization force, hegemony and homogeneity and hierarchy, partiarchical structures, social structures, economic structures, theory and theology and ideology and partisanship and corruption and values and exploitation…

Now I am hearing about the ex-Yugoslavia, specific to Croatia (for now), and how their economy, their government, and their society has been transforming since independence in 1990. The HDZ (The Croatian Democratic Union, the “right” Christian democratic party which won in 1990 under the leadership of Dr. Franjo Tudjman) is pro-family (but in their minds pro family is a mother-father lead family, giving no rights to the single mother or the lesbian couple or the gay couple, simply mother-father lead families), “the family comes first!”, where all the members are devout Catholics who attend Church and who are very involved in looking towards the future of Croatia. They are for a speedy transition into the European Union (they want it by 2009), they love the legacy of Tudjman and what he (and the HDZ) did for Croatia, they are for liberalization of the market, privatization, they want to reduce unemployment and get more of the youth into tertiary education. I only know all of this because we met with the leaders of the MHDZ (the Croatian Democratic Union Youth Organization, the biggest party affiliated Youth organization in Croatia). If you ask me, Croats and United Statesians are very different breeds. I caught myself gasping at some of their thoughts. But it was cool to listen to them, to hear their side of things.
But was has caught me the most (as we’ve begun digging deeper into the economic development of the area), is their move from socialism to capitalism and how it has been doing wonders for the economy. How they WANT privatization, Europeanization, Westernization, Globalization, Homogenization (seemingly). It’s just a mind screw for me. People really think this way here.

And I think it’s interesting to think of the demographics here in comparison with the demographics in the US. We have so many more ideologies, so many more religions, so many more languages and backgrounds and POPULATION (Croatia has half the population size of Manhattan), that macroeconomic policy, macropoltiical policy, is very hard to create while at the same time making people happy. Here, it’s just a lot more mono-everything. Sure there are still a few jews, a few Serbs (they are the biggest minority and I think they are 4% or something), Italians, Albanians, Greeks, Hungarians, Bulgarians, etc). By think of it regionally: most of those people are from Eastern/Southeastern Europe. Think of the States – people are coming from everywhere in the globe. How can we make things that fit everyone’s needs?

But there is definite dissent in this region as well. When people think back on the ‘90s in the Balkans, they think of how crazy Milosovic was and the Serbian nationalists. But what was covered up in all of that were the thousands of people set against the war, against nationalism, against conquering of land and people. These were the activists, the women, the teenagers, the men—who wanted to preserve their ties with their brothers and coexist peacefully.

And when people think back on the Croats, they think of how crazy those people were to elect Franjo Tudjman—the man who lead the slaughtering of so many Serbs during the 90s. But what they don’t hear are the stories of why the people chose to elect him and the HDZ—because if you wanted independence, you went with the HDZ, if you wanted to keep communism, you went with the Communist party. People didn’t elect Tudjman, they elected democracy and independence, they needed jobs and to lower the 1000% inflation in their country, they needed international recognition and respect. They needed to be seen.

And as I look back on what I just wrote I think I have learned a lot. Maybe this program is working out (and it’s only been a month). Maybe my ideas can get me somewhere here. Maybe I am learning the people and the language.

Oh—and today we met with a professor of Political Science at the University of Zagreb, and he said this: It’s a common misconception that Serbs and Croats have always hated eachother. Basically it happened in 1918 when US President Woodrow Wilson announced the Kingdom of the Serbs, Croats, and Slovenes, and put all of those people together for the first time. They had never had major tension before, so basically, it was all Wilson’s fault.

The end. For now.

Hrvatska Sabor and a lot of tea

(Tito and the girls)

(Ksenia, Sandro, Katarina, Grace, Me, Becca, Petra, Dora, and Bepo--family and extended family)

Some people think Tudjman was good, but my host dad (well the man who is separated from my host mom but who sometimes comes into the house to drop off food/money etc), says he doesn’t like Tudjman. Jako loshe (very bad). He said that a lot of people who didn’t have a lot of money during Tito’s time like Tudjman because they have a lot (people in the country). But those who did have good jobs and money during socialism were and still are very unhappy with Tudjman. Right now, the president of Croatia is Mesic, and my host dad says that he doesn’t play such a big role in the decisions. Parliament is more important because they make the decisions, Mesic is just the international figurehead for Croatia, not very important, he says.

We talked about economics and his bar over some homemade Dalmatian wine and proscuitto. He isn’t such a bad guy, he tried to make conversation and he shared his thoughts and food with me. I do think it’s significant that he comes when Irena (my host mom) is not home. I wonder what the real issue is between them.

Today we visited the Croatian Parliament. Our tour guide was a Member of Parliament, the youngest Parliament member, AND she is a WOMAN. There are 152 members of parliament, with 21 females in all. She is the youngest and is very witty and humble (seemingly). In Croatia there are 10 electoral districts. IN each district there are 14 elected members, there are also, separate from the districts, 8 elected minorities (Serbian, Hungarian, Czech, Italian, Russian etc, who are guaranteed representation), and 4 members who are elected by Croatians living abroad.

There are more than 20 committees in Parliament which don’t play a big role in the decisions/legislation passed. This is very interesting because the woman who toured us said that it used to play more of a role but now is limited, people don’t shw up for the meetings, the meetings are general, etc. I wonder why this is.

Croatia is applying for membership to the EU. There are EU flags next to every Croatian flag on government buildings. A lot of legislation has been made to follow the guildlines of EU structure, which is very interesting indeed.

She was 21 when she was elected to Parliament. She had to work very hard for respect and attention from the other members of parliament. For a while, they would all walk out of the meetings to smoke a cigarette or have a drink when she talked, now some of them listen, soon more of them will listen. I admire her a lot. She represents, as much as she can, the voices of many of the youth of Croatia. She keeps a blog of her thoughts, gives out her cell phone number to citizens, visits people, writes her speeches, works for herself entirely (unlike US politicians), and is very motivated. I was impressed.

But she isn’t a feminist. It was surprising that she said it so straight forward in front of us all. I can’t imagine being in her position and not being a feminist. She said she believed in equal opportunity for women and men, but didn’t believe in equality for all people because “all people are different”, which sort of makes sense but doesn’t at the same time. A few of us got into a conversation afterwards over some espresso and popcorn, talking about how feminism is different here in Croatia compared to the US. Here, there aren’t many differences between people. Ethnically, there are minorities from the region (probably the furthest is Turkey). There are hardly any black people here (I think I’ve counted 6 so far). In the US, feminism is divided according to many different things, but mostly black feminists are very different than white feminists (I don’t even know if “waves” of feminism exist here, possibly a very interesting subject to research….hmm).

But speaking of research, I’ve been thinking a lot about what I should do during my Independent Research time in the area. I think I might end up traveling around, rather than sticking to one place, and researching how people, mainly teenagers/youth, understand the region’s past, specific to the wars and political changes (socialism to capitalism). I want to better understand how collective memories are created here, and how it might be different according to ethnicity/nationalism (Serb, Croat, Bosnian, Muslim, etc). What do you think?

I discovered this website… http://www.nansen-dialog.net/
. This with the combination of my interest in Dialogue back at Clark, could make for a very interesting research plan…

Your thoughts?

Love, Erica

Another year older

"here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows
higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart

i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)"

- ee cummings

It is hard for me to understand my existence here in Zagreb. Maybe it’s because nobody, and I mean nobody believes that I am from the US studying in Zagreb. They all think I am lying. They laugh, they mutter something in Croatian under their lips.

Yesterday was my 21^st birthday. I wish birthdays didn’t make me feel so vulnerable, but they do, and as I was taking my two tests, one in Croatian and one about the history of Yugoslavia (as if it is pie to understand), I almost had a breakdown. I feel very happy here, and I’m glad I’ve been kept busy so much. But a little piece of me is poking my side reminding me that it’s not all here. This isn’t the place that sparks the fire inside of me. It became very very obvious one day a week ago or so, when I started talking about Mexico and the Zapatistas. I got excited, words were spilling out before I could say them, the warm sun and hot tortillas were fresh on my mind, the people, the mountains, the language…

I don’t feel too academically motivated here. I don’t know what I want to research, I don’t know how to talk to the people around me about certain issues, and I don’t know how to bring it to that next level.

But this doesn’t mean that Croatia, Yugoslav past, current movements, are not interesting. I have seen a lot of anthropologists very heavily embedded in one area of the world. It’s their place, where they have “settled down” as much as anthropologists can do that. I always wonder to myself how they found that place, how it got them, why, if they looked anywhere else. I don’t know if Mexico is my place, but it sure gets me going.

After the two tests yesterday, the entire SIT group surprised me with beautiful pink roses and a delicious, humungous cake. We are all getting sick, so it like this heavy blanket of stress from the tests was lifted off our shoulders and made into delectable goodness in our mouths. And all we had to look forward to was the night ahead – a night of dancing, celebration, and being together. That’s all I really wanted, to be with them. And we were, and it was good. But now I don’t have a voice really, the cold has settled in for good and I think today should be considered as “recovery”.

Don’t worry mom and dad, I didn’t get TOO drunk. I am happy because now, after all of the times of staying behind, I can finally go out to the bars with friends and talk, I don’t have to get kicked out or hop over fences, not be able to listen to my friend’s music because its 21+, and I can finally, FINALLY go out with my BROTHERS! I am very happy about that.

And now I can’t stop crying! Because a bunch of people sent me emails wishing me a happy birthday, and of course writing such nice things and bringing me that much closer to missing everything so much.

the group

Out of body?

Okay, so I have been here for almost two weeks and I still can't stop the international exhileration (to be away, to have everything look somewhat similar but unrecognizable, to start over, to build on what you have, to explore complete cultural phenomena, etc). It's been wonderful.

Today I met the "Dad"...funny enough the word for Dad is "tata" and the word for brother is "brat", both amazingly hysterical when thought of in English. The Dad of the family I live with is very...how can I say this without passing an enormous amount of judgement...I can't...an asshole. He didn't do anything to me, so breathe in deep Mom and Dad. He just, is an asshole. He is one of those big beefy guys who has a scratchy low voice, who is very good with his little girls but who you know, you just know, has anger issues and smacks his wife because he is 'the man of the family'. Today he brought me, Petra, and Dora to the brand new Mall that just opened up down the road and to buy groceries for the house. Except, he acted as an obligatory father figure and it really turned me off.

Irena, my mom, is so so so sweet and I can't imagine her putting up with such a person for so long. I have never been able to understand the pain and difficulty of living in a home where the parents are separeted or divorced, which I am so thankful for (Mom, Dad, keep pulling through! Let mom use the laptop!). But today I got a taste of the bitter taste Petra and Dora feel when with their Dad, knowing he once lived with them but treated Mama poorly and so now he doesn't live here anymore. It must be so hard.

And I am truley falling in love with my little Croatian sisters. It feels good to have so many women around! It's also quite different for me, I've always gotten along much better with the males of the world. But I think this is really healthy, and they are so beautiful and fun and goofy. We play the hand clap games a lot and it's fun to do with Dora (the 6 year old) because she can't keep the rhythm and forgets the pattern easily, sometimes hitting her face instead of my hand, so I pretend to hit my face too and she likes that, hehe.

The academics have been going well, although not too strenuous yet. I've been getting a bit stressed about the ISP (Independent Study Project). I have to start thinking of that more, but I have been having a bit of trouble relating my interests to this area. I don't think it should be hard but, it has been. This is what I'm thinking of:
- The female body, how it is viewed here by males and females, how it has evolved -- this could bring in a number of things such as war time abuse, to sexual education, to the media and consumerism/capitalism changing the social consciousness of women, etc. The women in Black movement, and other movements such as the Vagina Monologues, the suitcase etc which gives voice to many women.
- The creation of collective consciousness. This has really been interesting for me to hear about, especially with my experience in the Difficult Dialogue creation at Clark. How is history taught? How is it taught differently in the region? How do people remember things, how do people silence them? And how does it effect the current relationship between Croats, Slovenes, Serbs, Montenegrins, Albanians, Muslims, Macedonians, etc?
- Autonomous regions (Vojvodina i Kosovo) and their progress, the women's movements attached to it all.

More later, all my love.

family pictures

How to get drunk off of 15 kuna (less than 3 dollars). TOMISLAV BEER!

























Petra, Me, Dora! Sisters!














Irena (Mommy!) and me

A Hrvatske New Year - new people, new places, and a lot of history

My days can be summed up as so: 7:45 wake up, wash up, eat some bread with sunflower seed butter and jam, drink some coffee, and maybe a little yogurt with a side of broken English-Croatian with my host mom. I leave and walk 15 minutes (I have the shortest commute out of everyone in the group) to the center square, Trg Jelačića where the SIT office is. I climb up 5 flights of stairs and sit for Croatian language class for 2 hours. Then we get in between 1.5-2.5 hours for lunch, depending on the day. Then we get lectured by Dr. Saša Borić for 2 hours, a professor from some University in Western Croatia who has an English accent and too much ego. We have been learning about the history of the region for the past four days and it gets more complicated with each step. We are all, more or less, new to this region's history, and its really hard to grasp.

What has interested me most is the split with the USSR in the late 50's (Split from the Cominform)
and the "new" kind of communism -- Self-regulated socialism, where the working class has rights and power over all things produced. The federalized Yugoslavia (which was one entity with 6 republics and the two autonomous regions of Vojavodina and Kosovo in the south and north of present day Serbia) was completely liberalized, socially and economically, and in the 60's the Yugoslav passport was coveted.

After the 2 hours of lecturing, where we all basically feel bad about not knowing more, we get the rest of the day off. Usually for lunch I visit the big open market a few blocks from the office called Dolac. There I buy a lot of fresh fruit! Mainly fresh figs, which all of you know I LOVE. Today I bought a kilogram *2.2 lbs* of fresh figs for 4 dollars (I think something like 8 fresh figs at a health food store back home costs 6 or so dollars). The peaches are amazing. Right now, eggplant and red peppers are in season and they make this spread called Ivar, which consists of finely cut eggplant and red peppers, with garlic. Its the most delicious creation in the entire world. I am making fig spread when I get home.

At home, I feel completely comfortable. My family is really chill--the mother is really relaxed but busy and the daughters like to have fun. the other day I made pancakes with the New Hampshire maple syrup I bought and they made their Croatian pancakes (basically crepes with nutella) and we switched. They liked the pancakes a lot, the syrup was a bit strong for Petra (the 11 year old). But we dance, we sing, we played CROATIAN MONOPOLY the other day, and they are just really fun and warm. Exactly what I wanted from a family.

Have I told you there is a food not bombs group here in Zagreb? Well there is, and I went to the meeting the other day with another girl Lindsay (whose name is coincidentally Lindsay Weber, like my cousin, except not my cousin). We met a bunch of activists who we befriended. They cook every other Saturday, completely vegan (which is very hard to come by in this country). I cant go this Saturday because my family is going to a big family party/celebration in Cisak but I want to go soon. I think we will meet up with them on Saturday for some live Reggae music in Zagreb. They are all very nice people.

I wanted to tell you all about my phone here. I won a free cell phone (left from a previous student on the program). It is super expensive to call the States, but if YOU want to call ME (which will still be expensive, but you don't have to go out and buy phone cards all the time), you should! The number is 3850919531058. call anytime between 10 am and 6 pm your time (4 pm to 12 am my time).

Also, keep your skype accounts on!!! Thats the BEST way to hear my voice.

And lastly, I wish a happy and sweet new year to everyone celebrating. We ate apples and honey today but am very nostalgic of the New Year on the Mountain in Lyndeboro.

You are all in my heart. Pictures of the family to come soon.

Food Not Bombs in Zagreb

While in Zagreb for less than a week, I was starting to feel a little nostalgia of the activist community back home at school. It is a community where personal image disappears, when every day details such as homework and my personal academic future doesn’t matter as much, and when what matters most is the strength and cooperation of a group of people gathered together to attain a common goal. I missed it already. I needed to feel that support, comradeship, and solidarity with people and wondered if I could find it in such a foreign city.

While sipping strong espresso, a social commonplace in most Southeastern European countries, my friend Lindsay invited me to a Food Not Bombs meeting in Zagreb. Food Not Bombs is an international movement where people cook local food bought or donated to give out to those less fortunate, or anyone who wants some grub before continuing their days. In Worcester, where I go to school, there is an expansive population of poor people, a lot of unemployment, and because of this cultural richness is usually lost in the gloomy nature of the developing city streets. It was exciting to find a similar community of people thousands of miles away from my own home. I needed it.

We headed to the street where the activist webpage told us the meeting would be. Through a small opening between buildings we walked down the small alleyway to what we thought was the place and waited for a while. Nobody was around. On the buildings was graffiti, illustrating the kinds of stories these people were trying to show symbolically. What stood out most were the words “I am not his story”, showing possible feminist ideals and the subject of silencing the past these people had once experienced during the wars. Within the walls around me screamed experiences completely unimaginable to my mind but similar to my own people’s history. It was comforting.

Soon a young man peddled through the alleyway on his bike, with his head mostly shaved except for a spot on the top where long hair flowed out. He dressed in dark clothes, locking his bike up to a post and lighting up a cigarette. His clothes were symbolically universal to anarchism and activism in general—dark clothes, the interesting hair do, the cigarette, the bike, the patches found on his clothes. A taste of my familiar family of activists from home.

“Bog”, I said walking up to him. “Govorite li engleski?”

“Malo”, he replied, sitting down on the sidewalk looking up at me.

“Is there a meeting for Food Not Bombs?”

“Da, yes, at seven o’clock”.

I introduced myself, and he to I, and then Lindsay as well. He is from Rijeke, a small town southwest of Zagreb. He has been living in the city for a while, making tofu and volunteering. We chatted for a while as others biked in, all with the symbolical clothes and hair unique to this particular community found internationally. We introduced ourselves to everyone, and at quarter past 7 we started the meeting—completely in Croatian.

A woman sitting to the right of me, Dora, asked us where we were from and was surprised, assuming we were German from the way we spoke Croatian. We laughed, silently wishing that we were, in fact, not from America, a bit weary of our country’s appearance to the rest of the world. We sat, attempting to listen to the conversation as it unfolded. Alas, we got nothing, but my new friend Dora explained that they were setting a time to cook this Saturday and a place to hand out the food. We passed around a bottle of Macedonian liquor, similar to Greek Ouzo, our new friends urging us to drink because we came to their meeting!

Time went on and cigarettes were lit and devoured, the bottle of Ouzo slowly reaching its end. I realized that the meeting was long over and they were just sitting chatting with one another. Once they realized we hardly spoke any Croatian, they began weaving in their broken English into the conversation, asking where we were from and why we were there. They were happy to hear that Food Not Bombs was practicing in so many other places in the world. Certainly this would be a community I could go to in my free time, to socialize, to meet the local community around me and to get a better grasp of the stories behind the words and images plastered to each clean slab of stone. I walked away early, hoping to get home with enough time to chat with my family and finish my homework. Dora looked at me before I left and said, “Don’t get too drunk on Friday night; you must come help us help others”. She is from Belgrade, squatting here in Zagreb helping out to help others. I noticed here, similarly to what I was used to, was the combination of socializing, having fun, and doing good things all at the same time. We must be happy if we are to work happily. We must know each other personally and professionally. And of course, good people are everywhere, even if they are stuck behind an alleyway in Zagreb, Croatia far away from your usual stomping ground. They will always invite you into their circle as we are all part of the same tribe. It was good to be reminded of that.