Brand new adventure of sorts yesterday – we will call it ‘oh my god, I forgot my passport’.
After humming and ha-ing, I decided to take a mid afternoon bus to Dubrovnik to meet up with a friend. Initially this was an attractive proposition, but the reality of over three hours in a bus in the heat suddenly dawned on me mid morning – I tried to cancel the trip, but my friend was persuasive.
Anyway, last minute decision to go, threw some things into a bag and raced for the bus station. Worst nightmare was immediately apparent – yes, 35 degrees today and the air-con on the bus was not working. Picture me melting onto the seat. I pulled the blinds down (yes, second mistake, miscalculated and sat on the sunny side of the bus) – too bad about the tourists who want to take photos – and did the ‘Croatian’ thing where you sit in the isle seat looking out the window and no-one dares to ask if they can sit in the empty seat next to you (thank you for that instruction Diana..)
The bus picked up more passengers from Podgora, Drasnice and Igrane – now the bus is so crowded that people are standing. (Ok, yes I moved over and let someone sit next to me).
So, just before Drvenik, I suddenly realized that I DID NOT HAVE MY PASSPORT WITH ME!
For those who haven’t travelled this coast, there is a, maybe 15 kilometre part of the coast which is Bosnian. When the borders were being re-drawn, it was agreed that Bosnia should retain this access route to the sea. What happens is that you have to stop at the border of Bosnia (border patrol comes on the bus and checks everyone’s passports) you carry on to the end of the Bosnian territory and the Croatian border patrol come on board the bus and check the passports again. This is generally carried out efficiently and not normally with a smile. And there is a gun in the holster (I just mention that for Kiwis because we are not used to seeing guns.)
I’m freaking out which brings me out into a hot sweat, and I know, I just know that I must take affirmative action. I hurtle myself down the bus and admit to the 2nd driver that I have forgotten my passport. (Cringe.)
He looks at me and says that I should get off at Drvenik. The bus duly stops, I disembark with as much ‘I hate being the centre of attention’ as I can muster – the driver gets off too and asks if I have any other personal papers. I show him my NZ Driver’s Licence – he tells me to get back on the bus, it’s worth giving it a go. I get back onto the bus with as much ‘I hate being the centre of attention’ as I can muster. (I wonder if the other travellers think that I am an idiot and have somehow mistaken Drvenik for Dubrovnik..).
Still sweating I call Branka to ask her to text me my Croatian Passport number as a back up, and sit there practicing my speech (‘I have a Croatian Passport, I have left it in my apartment because I am an idiot, but this is the serial number if you want it, please don’t hold the whole bus up because of me because I hate being the centre of attention..’).
The Bosnian border person is a woman – I show her my driver’s licence and she asks if I have a passport – I admit that I have (imam, ali on je u moju stanu, zao mi je, ja sam glupost) and she says ‘moze’ – it’s ok. The Croatian border guy doesn’t even ask the question – and I am through my nightmare and on my way to Dubrovnik.
Which place never fails to let me down in the evenings – beautiful piano being played in one corner bar, a jazz band playing in another – the lighting and the atmosphere is romantic and … well… oh, just go there yourselves and spend an evening wandering the paved streets and you will understand!)
I was on the 10 o’clock bus for the return trip – mild concern about the passport thing, but again, no-one really cared. Which begs the question I suppose. And so of course, me being me ,I asked the question. And the answer that I was given was that the border passport patrol will have more relevance when Croatia is in the EU because Bosnia will be a real EU border for those 15 or so kilometers. Which doesn’t pay heed to the current role of the crew of people standing at each post.
But I don’t really care now. Oh, and I will never forget my passport again (and you will remember this situation when you find yourself in a bus or a car heading up the Croatian Coast).
Tuesday, 9 August 2011
Monday, 8 August 2011
True Religion
Here’s an interesting story that I was told the other day. Settle yourselves down and slusaj…(with a ‘sh’ on that second ‘s’).
Once upon a time (nekoc – with a ‘ch’) in a little village on Hvar, there was a lovely Catholic priest who ministered to his flock (as was required of him), going about his daily business diligently and properly.
After perhaps a little too much attention being paid to one particular young woman in the village, he found that he was about to become a father (in the true meaning of the word). He hitched up his cassock and went to visit his supervising spiritual senior to confess this mortal sin and to seek guidance.
The senior spiritual adviser saw that the young priest was as passionate about his work as he was about the young mother-to- be, saw that he was a good man, (and perhaps had experienced similar situations in his own life) and came up with a pragmatic solution.
‘Father’ he said (because he was, and he was) ‘the Greek Orthodox Church allows priests to marry. Consider this - you could convert to that religion, find twenty five people to be your congregation, and continue using the same church.’
And so it came to pass. To this day there remains a Greek Orthodox Church in the little village of Bogomolje on the island of Hvar. And know you know why.
Gotta love pragmatism. Don’t you love the history behind these little things?
Once upon a time (nekoc – with a ‘ch’) in a little village on Hvar, there was a lovely Catholic priest who ministered to his flock (as was required of him), going about his daily business diligently and properly.
After perhaps a little too much attention being paid to one particular young woman in the village, he found that he was about to become a father (in the true meaning of the word). He hitched up his cassock and went to visit his supervising spiritual senior to confess this mortal sin and to seek guidance.
The senior spiritual adviser saw that the young priest was as passionate about his work as he was about the young mother-to- be, saw that he was a good man, (and perhaps had experienced similar situations in his own life) and came up with a pragmatic solution.
‘Father’ he said (because he was, and he was) ‘the Greek Orthodox Church allows priests to marry. Consider this - you could convert to that religion, find twenty five people to be your congregation, and continue using the same church.’
And so it came to pass. To this day there remains a Greek Orthodox Church in the little village of Bogomolje on the island of Hvar. And know you know why.
Gotta love pragmatism. Don’t you love the history behind these little things?
Saturday, 6 August 2011
Public Holiday
Last night was an example of how a city should celebrate a public holiday! The street was closed to all traffic and the riva was swollen with meanderers and promenaders. And me. (How those young girls can promenade in those tiny skirts and high high shoes (visoka cipela) is beyond me, but they know how to turn heads! - guess that's why men sit in the front rows of the cafes..)
I missed any speeches that may have taken place at the beginning of the evening and although I am sure that the local political party would have been there boots and all- I wonder how many of the tourists realized what the party was for. Not that it made any difference.
A magnificent fire works display lit the whole night sky, resounding through the air, bouncing off Biokovo. The klapa group was wonderful (of course), and then a band from Zagreb played.
Stalls of all descriptions were displaying their wares (photos would have been fantastic, but I just didn’t feel like doing the tourist thing – just believe me - the colours, the smells….)
There were open fires cooking big wheels of blitvah pressed between bread and then fried pancake thin – tiny battered fish, octopus, large whole battered fish all cooked over hot coals, popcorn, candyfloss, a huge display of old fashioned lollies¸ and all sorts of rakija – cherry, walnut. Stalls selling beer, selling icecream, selling lavender, selling those annoying balls on a string that kids bang together… Even a puppet show with a crowd watching.
Babies asleep on shoulders, asleep in prams. Kids dragging their feet, trying to stay awake.
We stood and watched a couple of guys singing in the trg (square) where the night clubs are – fantastic guitar work, fantastic voices – people were singing and dancing. Another klapa group was singing on a big party boat anchored in the harbour and the songs were mingling with the sound of the songs from the Zagreb group. We sat in a café and ate limun gelato and drank strawberry Pago juice…
At the moment the harbour is filled with boats, all elegantly lit¸ with carousers of all nationalities looking for a party and a good time. And I am sure that they can find one in Makarska. I hear through the young travelers that this town is getting a bit of a reputation - we don’t want any more broken hand basins!
My staying power for Really Big Nights Out is waning. I wandered home at about 2 (thinking about my 7 o’clock rowing call) but heard people coming home just before I got up. Those young folk.
I missed any speeches that may have taken place at the beginning of the evening and although I am sure that the local political party would have been there boots and all- I wonder how many of the tourists realized what the party was for. Not that it made any difference.
A magnificent fire works display lit the whole night sky, resounding through the air, bouncing off Biokovo. The klapa group was wonderful (of course), and then a band from Zagreb played.
Stalls of all descriptions were displaying their wares (photos would have been fantastic, but I just didn’t feel like doing the tourist thing – just believe me - the colours, the smells….)
There were open fires cooking big wheels of blitvah pressed between bread and then fried pancake thin – tiny battered fish, octopus, large whole battered fish all cooked over hot coals, popcorn, candyfloss, a huge display of old fashioned lollies¸ and all sorts of rakija – cherry, walnut. Stalls selling beer, selling icecream, selling lavender, selling those annoying balls on a string that kids bang together… Even a puppet show with a crowd watching.
Babies asleep on shoulders, asleep in prams. Kids dragging their feet, trying to stay awake.
We stood and watched a couple of guys singing in the trg (square) where the night clubs are – fantastic guitar work, fantastic voices – people were singing and dancing. Another klapa group was singing on a big party boat anchored in the harbour and the songs were mingling with the sound of the songs from the Zagreb group. We sat in a café and ate limun gelato and drank strawberry Pago juice…
At the moment the harbour is filled with boats, all elegantly lit¸ with carousers of all nationalities looking for a party and a good time. And I am sure that they can find one in Makarska. I hear through the young travelers that this town is getting a bit of a reputation - we don’t want any more broken hand basins!
My staying power for Really Big Nights Out is waning. I wandered home at about 2 (thinking about my 7 o’clock rowing call) but heard people coming home just before I got up. Those young folk.
Friday, 5 August 2011
National Holiday
Today is a public holiday in Croatia – August the 5th – Officially it is called “Day of Victory & Homeland Gratitude, and the Day of Croatian Defenders’’. Wonderful.
What a treat, and even klapa singing and a band to celebrate the day down on the riva. I asked a couple of people what the reason behind the holiday was, but didn’t manage to get a satisfactory explanation – and maybe that was because of who I was asking.
Not one to be thwarted, I googled it (god bless google) and for you, dear reader, here is the explanation;
We will peel it back like an onion, layer upon layer, because as with so many things, things are not simple.
If you are over 20 you will be aware that there was a war fought in these parts in the years 1991 to 1995. From my understanding, the first squirmishes were in the Krajina area, where lies the town of Knin, and this area, although in Croatia, was populated by a majority of Serbians, who decided that the boundary should be redrawn to include the town as an independent Serbian state.
Next layer – to try and make this true, some 200,000.00 Croatians were, recimo, forceably removed, and 2000 Croatians were killed. Babic was the ‘President’ of the ‘independent’ state at the time and he has since admitted his guilt in the Hague War Trials. Subsequently he was found dead in his cell during another trial where he was acting as a witness in the Milosevic trial.
Next layer - Operation ‘Storm’ which was successfully completed 16 years ago to the day, was the military operation in which that area was re-taken by the Croatian forces. Peel that layer back, and you will recall the blog that featured the name Gotovina – he was one of the leaders of Operation Storm. And you will recall that he has been sentenced to 24 years as a war criminal for the atrocities relating to that area.
Yesterday, the president of Croatia, unveiled a monument called “Storm” in the town of Knin where all of this took place.
At the same time, the Serbian Orthodox Church held a memorial service in Belgrade for the victims of Operation Storm.
Oh, and I see that Serbia has issued a counterclaim against Croatia in the International Court of Justice, demanding that they remove this “Day of Victory & Homeland Gratitude, and Day of Croatian Defenders” from the list of National holidays. Immediately. Forthwith.
Goodness me, it’s a complicated issue isn’t it. Interestingly, Serbia is in the throes of its application to become a member of the EU, and Croatia is finalizing their application to also be a member. Guess these issues will all be ironed out at the EU family dinner table over a nice glass of something. Because, after waging a war to be separated from the Jugoslavia umbrella they are going to be joined at the hip under the EU umbrella. I trust it will be a big one.
So, enough already, I'm heading down to the riva to listen to the klapa group. You coming?
What a treat, and even klapa singing and a band to celebrate the day down on the riva. I asked a couple of people what the reason behind the holiday was, but didn’t manage to get a satisfactory explanation – and maybe that was because of who I was asking.
Not one to be thwarted, I googled it (god bless google) and for you, dear reader, here is the explanation;
We will peel it back like an onion, layer upon layer, because as with so many things, things are not simple.
If you are over 20 you will be aware that there was a war fought in these parts in the years 1991 to 1995. From my understanding, the first squirmishes were in the Krajina area, where lies the town of Knin, and this area, although in Croatia, was populated by a majority of Serbians, who decided that the boundary should be redrawn to include the town as an independent Serbian state.
Next layer – to try and make this true, some 200,000.00 Croatians were, recimo, forceably removed, and 2000 Croatians were killed. Babic was the ‘President’ of the ‘independent’ state at the time and he has since admitted his guilt in the Hague War Trials. Subsequently he was found dead in his cell during another trial where he was acting as a witness in the Milosevic trial.
Next layer - Operation ‘Storm’ which was successfully completed 16 years ago to the day, was the military operation in which that area was re-taken by the Croatian forces. Peel that layer back, and you will recall the blog that featured the name Gotovina – he was one of the leaders of Operation Storm. And you will recall that he has been sentenced to 24 years as a war criminal for the atrocities relating to that area.
Yesterday, the president of Croatia, unveiled a monument called “Storm” in the town of Knin where all of this took place.
At the same time, the Serbian Orthodox Church held a memorial service in Belgrade for the victims of Operation Storm.
Oh, and I see that Serbia has issued a counterclaim against Croatia in the International Court of Justice, demanding that they remove this “Day of Victory & Homeland Gratitude, and Day of Croatian Defenders” from the list of National holidays. Immediately. Forthwith.
Goodness me, it’s a complicated issue isn’t it. Interestingly, Serbia is in the throes of its application to become a member of the EU, and Croatia is finalizing their application to also be a member. Guess these issues will all be ironed out at the EU family dinner table over a nice glass of something. Because, after waging a war to be separated from the Jugoslavia umbrella they are going to be joined at the hip under the EU umbrella. I trust it will be a big one.
So, enough already, I'm heading down to the riva to listen to the klapa group. You coming?
Thursday, 4 August 2011
Taking Stock
When I walked to rowing this morning I spotted ripe figs in the trees – the seasons are changing.
The track between here and Tucepi has blackberries that are nearly ripe and I have an invitation to go and pick wild blueberries - late summer fruit! – and walking home from yoga tonight, I noticed that the sky is darkening as I leave the gym - so many signs that time is moving on quickly.
When I arrived in Makarska, this VW was dead but not buried – look at it now! Just four months of vines and it is nearly invisible (a wicked waste of a VW!).
And my beginners are all graduating - out of the double with me and into singles. My little Duje who refused to row for a month because he was too scared, insisted that he row on his own in a single this morning. I felt so proud of him because he really was fighting fear. When he got off the water he gave me a hug (he's 9)and instead of disappearing to avoid cleaning the boats, he helped to carry the single up to the shed and carefully washed and dried the boat. I said ‘to je tvoj brod’ and he grinned and said ‘da’. And it was his boat today, he was fantastic. The bigger kids shook his hand and said ‘odlicno’ (with a ‘ch’) – excellent!
I have two months left of this adventure – and next week I will go to France for the annual rallye , returning 12 days later. August (kolovoz) will nearly be finished! Today I feel as though I am taking stock – this morning at coffee, Lara said ‘you will really miss us when you go’. I am now an accepted fixture in Arbun, the ‘mens’’ café, in my rowing gear – look how far I have come!
I must tell you about Sara and Corina, the two girls who started rowing a couple of months ago. They are now happily rowing from the club to Krvavica in a double (4 ks there, 4 ks back).( I took a photo of them on Tuesday and sent it to Corina’s dad – he emailed back to say that he had immediately posted it on facebook because he is so proud of his daughter rowing..) Anyway… today they were out in the middle of the Adriatic, rowing along, when they spotted some dolphins… but the big boys in the quad told them that they were sharks….. they came in roaring with laughter because they said that they had never rowed so hard or fast in their lives! I am loving watching these gorgeous kids develop and grow on the water. Even Frane (who turned 12 today) had his first go in a single today. He is like a bouncing puppy – he calls me ‘Miss Alison’ and is desperate to do anything to help.
I guess where this is heading is that I am taking stock and weighing up my place in this community, the friends I have made and the niche I have carved, and am aware that October is looming.
The consolation is that before then, the weather will be cool enough to allow mountain climbing again, the tourists will go so everyone can come out to play again, and I have two more months to cram as many memories and as much language into my head as I can!
The track between here and Tucepi has blackberries that are nearly ripe and I have an invitation to go and pick wild blueberries - late summer fruit! – and walking home from yoga tonight, I noticed that the sky is darkening as I leave the gym - so many signs that time is moving on quickly.
When I arrived in Makarska, this VW was dead but not buried – look at it now! Just four months of vines and it is nearly invisible (a wicked waste of a VW!).
And my beginners are all graduating - out of the double with me and into singles. My little Duje who refused to row for a month because he was too scared, insisted that he row on his own in a single this morning. I felt so proud of him because he really was fighting fear. When he got off the water he gave me a hug (he's 9)and instead of disappearing to avoid cleaning the boats, he helped to carry the single up to the shed and carefully washed and dried the boat. I said ‘to je tvoj brod’ and he grinned and said ‘da’. And it was his boat today, he was fantastic. The bigger kids shook his hand and said ‘odlicno’ (with a ‘ch’) – excellent!
I have two months left of this adventure – and next week I will go to France for the annual rallye , returning 12 days later. August (kolovoz) will nearly be finished! Today I feel as though I am taking stock – this morning at coffee, Lara said ‘you will really miss us when you go’. I am now an accepted fixture in Arbun, the ‘mens’’ café, in my rowing gear – look how far I have come!
I must tell you about Sara and Corina, the two girls who started rowing a couple of months ago. They are now happily rowing from the club to Krvavica in a double (4 ks there, 4 ks back).( I took a photo of them on Tuesday and sent it to Corina’s dad – he emailed back to say that he had immediately posted it on facebook because he is so proud of his daughter rowing..) Anyway… today they were out in the middle of the Adriatic, rowing along, when they spotted some dolphins… but the big boys in the quad told them that they were sharks….. they came in roaring with laughter because they said that they had never rowed so hard or fast in their lives! I am loving watching these gorgeous kids develop and grow on the water. Even Frane (who turned 12 today) had his first go in a single today. He is like a bouncing puppy – he calls me ‘Miss Alison’ and is desperate to do anything to help.
I guess where this is heading is that I am taking stock and weighing up my place in this community, the friends I have made and the niche I have carved, and am aware that October is looming.
The consolation is that before then, the weather will be cool enough to allow mountain climbing again, the tourists will go so everyone can come out to play again, and I have two more months to cram as many memories and as much language into my head as I can!
Wednesday, 3 August 2011
Sram te bilo! (Shame on you!)
Hey, thanks so much to the three people who have emailed me checking to see whether my hand is healing ok…
NZ woman loses hand in Croatian yacht sex
This headline hit your shores a day or so after we heard about it here – does this tie in with my conversation a couple of months ago about New Zealand women being the most promiscuous in the world?… actually she didn’t lose her hand – it was carefully re-stitched by surgeons in Split, but who knows how much movement she will regain in it. New Zealand being the place that it is (you know, 2 degrees of separation instead of the standard 6 degrees), someone reading this may be able to say who the poor woman was – the visitors here from New Zealand were asking.
The other ‘scandal’ in the local paper is that of all of the towns toured by our lovely NZ cultural groups, Makarska was the only town that did not behave hospitably by providing food as is the norm in most cultures – and if you look carefully at the photo, you will see that it is our own ex mayor, Tony Covich from Waitakere City Council, the erstwhile ‘Super City’ (before the current even more ‘super’ city). He and his wife Ivica stated in the article (and I quote) ‘Sram me kao nikadu zivotu’ – literally, I am ashamed like never before in my life. Tony Covich says that this is the first time in 75 years he has been ashamed of Makarska. Serious sentiments but ones that were being bandied around by others before this article appeared.
The generosity of other individuals was limitless however – Mate Jujnovic – ex Croatian kiwi for 20 odd years – provided the transport for the whole tour, and from what I understand, no hotels required payment and they were fed and watered wherever they went.
The local paper is also filled with another conversation which, depending on who you are talking to needs to be in hushed tones – it is a conversation which is kind of incredulous from our (kiwi) perspective, but in this perspective has a different layer of meaning. I mentioned one day that there were bus loads of visitors who arrive in Makarska each day to take advantage of the lovely beaches here. The key word here for some people who have dared to say so out loud is ‘advantage’. The story goes that these people come for lovely day trips, they bring their picnics with them so that they don’t have to spend any money, they spend the day on the beach, have a shower at the end of the day, rinsing the soap and shampoo off under the lovely fresh water (which then runs into the sea), and then climb back on the bus with happy hearts from the day at the beach. Seems reasonable from the perspective of beach culture in New Zealand. But the comment that has escaped the lips of a journalist here goes as follows – these visitors are costing the town (in clean-up costs, rubbish removal etc) and are not contributing a cent to the economy. The flow on from that comment is ….oooohhhh, a hornet’s nest!
The rubbish on the beaches is an issue – I have mentioned in a skiting way about the beach that I wander to in the afternoons, which now has a huge pile of rubbish waiting for removal.
I for one can’t see why if you can carry full bottles of drink, food to eat for the day, together with beach mats, and lilos for the sea TO THE BEACH, that you then find yourself with broken arms that render it impossible to carry the same articles, lighter now that you have drunk the liquids and eaten the picnic, AWAY FROM THE BEACH.
I wonder what would happen if the rubbish bins on this remote beach were removed and a sign put up that simply says ‘leave nothing on the beach except your footprints’. (Apart from the fact that there is no sand, only pebbles, and footprints in the sand may not translate in this situation – but you get the point).
NZ woman loses hand in Croatian yacht sex
This headline hit your shores a day or so after we heard about it here – does this tie in with my conversation a couple of months ago about New Zealand women being the most promiscuous in the world?… actually she didn’t lose her hand – it was carefully re-stitched by surgeons in Split, but who knows how much movement she will regain in it. New Zealand being the place that it is (you know, 2 degrees of separation instead of the standard 6 degrees), someone reading this may be able to say who the poor woman was – the visitors here from New Zealand were asking.
The other ‘scandal’ in the local paper is that of all of the towns toured by our lovely NZ cultural groups, Makarska was the only town that did not behave hospitably by providing food as is the norm in most cultures – and if you look carefully at the photo, you will see that it is our own ex mayor, Tony Covich from Waitakere City Council, the erstwhile ‘Super City’ (before the current even more ‘super’ city). He and his wife Ivica stated in the article (and I quote) ‘Sram me kao nikadu zivotu’ – literally, I am ashamed like never before in my life. Tony Covich says that this is the first time in 75 years he has been ashamed of Makarska. Serious sentiments but ones that were being bandied around by others before this article appeared.
The generosity of other individuals was limitless however – Mate Jujnovic – ex Croatian kiwi for 20 odd years – provided the transport for the whole tour, and from what I understand, no hotels required payment and they were fed and watered wherever they went.
The local paper is also filled with another conversation which, depending on who you are talking to needs to be in hushed tones – it is a conversation which is kind of incredulous from our (kiwi) perspective, but in this perspective has a different layer of meaning. I mentioned one day that there were bus loads of visitors who arrive in Makarska each day to take advantage of the lovely beaches here. The key word here for some people who have dared to say so out loud is ‘advantage’. The story goes that these people come for lovely day trips, they bring their picnics with them so that they don’t have to spend any money, they spend the day on the beach, have a shower at the end of the day, rinsing the soap and shampoo off under the lovely fresh water (which then runs into the sea), and then climb back on the bus with happy hearts from the day at the beach. Seems reasonable from the perspective of beach culture in New Zealand. But the comment that has escaped the lips of a journalist here goes as follows – these visitors are costing the town (in clean-up costs, rubbish removal etc) and are not contributing a cent to the economy. The flow on from that comment is ….oooohhhh, a hornet’s nest!
The rubbish on the beaches is an issue – I have mentioned in a skiting way about the beach that I wander to in the afternoons, which now has a huge pile of rubbish waiting for removal.
I for one can’t see why if you can carry full bottles of drink, food to eat for the day, together with beach mats, and lilos for the sea TO THE BEACH, that you then find yourself with broken arms that render it impossible to carry the same articles, lighter now that you have drunk the liquids and eaten the picnic, AWAY FROM THE BEACH.
I wonder what would happen if the rubbish bins on this remote beach were removed and a sign put up that simply says ‘leave nothing on the beach except your footprints’. (Apart from the fact that there is no sand, only pebbles, and footprints in the sand may not translate in this situation – but you get the point).
Monday, 1 August 2011
Proud to be a Kiwi
Call me a groupie, call me what you will, but last night I went to Tucepi to watch the Kralj Tomislav and Wellington Maori Culture Group perform again. This time it was a beautiful mild night, plenty of stars and not a hint of rain.
A huge crowd gathered as soon as the first Maori item started – the whole of Tucepi must have heard the sound, and if they didn’t know that the performance was on before that moment, they had no reason to doubt it after that! More people gathered and the crowd was captured by the music from both groups. (As an aside, I have to say that there is a special skill to being in a crowd in Croatia – you really have to hold your ground because there are no rules about pushing in…).
These two groups have been travelling around the country performing nightly for nearly two weeks, and so obviously the rapport has built up, and the friendship and respect between the groups was apparent on the stage. The items flowed into each other – the initial song was Croatian and the Maori group had learnt the song and sang it with the Croatian group. After the Croatian group danced, there was a magnificent display of poi and haka.
The two Samoan guys sang klapa, and then one of the young men from the Maori group appeared between them and lead the klapa in the most beautiful voice. Gone was the pukana and fierceness, and there appeared the most beautiful smile and sound. The crowd loved it. Reading the paper, the leader of the music for the Croatian group said that the Maori group attended their practices and quickly picked up the songs, and this young man (18 year old) impressed them with his voice. Talk about teary-eyed! The article in the Slobodna Dalmacija (reporting about Saturday night’s performance, not last night’s) ‘vidio sam i suze u ocima’ (with a ‘ch’ on that ‘c’) – I saw eyes filled with tears…
Both groups (and the kiwi groupies) sang Pokarekare Ana with such beautiful harmony (my dad would have been thrilled!). (Quick digresson – our family lived in Wellington for a few years when I was a child, and my father, who is a wonderful singer, was the choir leader for Ngati Poneke Cultural Group in Wellington, so I have fond memories of Sunday evenings in the hall listening to the choir practice).
The ‘piece de resistance’ was the finale when the men from both groups joined in to perform a fierce haka which had the crowd enthralled. As it was the final performance for the tour, gifts were exchanged and the many generous people who had made the tour possible were acknowledged.
I guess those people who didn’t know the word ‘Maori’ before, or, as a friend of mine asked, wondered if they came from Australia, there will be no doubt in their minds now. Radio Makarska was even heard playing Tiki Taane’s song ‘Tangaroa!’(google it!) And I‘ve been looking for a shop which sells something like string so that I can make Ivana some pois. Maybe making a set of sticks from rolled up newspapers like we did in school would be easier…
I spoke to a couple of the young guys from each of the cultural groups afterwards, and they both acknowledged that they were sad that it is now all over, and that it has been the experience of a life time. Gorana Kacurova, the leader of Kralj Tomislav has been filming portions of the months leading up to this trip – hopefully with the footage from the last few weeks, this experience will emerge as a wonderful documentary for everyone to see. They did New Zealand proud!
A huge crowd gathered as soon as the first Maori item started – the whole of Tucepi must have heard the sound, and if they didn’t know that the performance was on before that moment, they had no reason to doubt it after that! More people gathered and the crowd was captured by the music from both groups. (As an aside, I have to say that there is a special skill to being in a crowd in Croatia – you really have to hold your ground because there are no rules about pushing in…).
These two groups have been travelling around the country performing nightly for nearly two weeks, and so obviously the rapport has built up, and the friendship and respect between the groups was apparent on the stage. The items flowed into each other – the initial song was Croatian and the Maori group had learnt the song and sang it with the Croatian group. After the Croatian group danced, there was a magnificent display of poi and haka.
The two Samoan guys sang klapa, and then one of the young men from the Maori group appeared between them and lead the klapa in the most beautiful voice. Gone was the pukana and fierceness, and there appeared the most beautiful smile and sound. The crowd loved it. Reading the paper, the leader of the music for the Croatian group said that the Maori group attended their practices and quickly picked up the songs, and this young man (18 year old) impressed them with his voice. Talk about teary-eyed! The article in the Slobodna Dalmacija (reporting about Saturday night’s performance, not last night’s) ‘vidio sam i suze u ocima’ (with a ‘ch’ on that ‘c’) – I saw eyes filled with tears…
Both groups (and the kiwi groupies) sang Pokarekare Ana with such beautiful harmony (my dad would have been thrilled!). (Quick digresson – our family lived in Wellington for a few years when I was a child, and my father, who is a wonderful singer, was the choir leader for Ngati Poneke Cultural Group in Wellington, so I have fond memories of Sunday evenings in the hall listening to the choir practice).
The ‘piece de resistance’ was the finale when the men from both groups joined in to perform a fierce haka which had the crowd enthralled. As it was the final performance for the tour, gifts were exchanged and the many generous people who had made the tour possible were acknowledged.
I guess those people who didn’t know the word ‘Maori’ before, or, as a friend of mine asked, wondered if they came from Australia, there will be no doubt in their minds now. Radio Makarska was even heard playing Tiki Taane’s song ‘Tangaroa!’(google it!) And I‘ve been looking for a shop which sells something like string so that I can make Ivana some pois. Maybe making a set of sticks from rolled up newspapers like we did in school would be easier…
I spoke to a couple of the young guys from each of the cultural groups afterwards, and they both acknowledged that they were sad that it is now all over, and that it has been the experience of a life time. Gorana Kacurova, the leader of Kralj Tomislav has been filming portions of the months leading up to this trip – hopefully with the footage from the last few weeks, this experience will emerge as a wonderful documentary for everyone to see. They did New Zealand proud!
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