Kristian's application for a tourist visa was denied....we aren't sure why. They guy at his embassy interview just said he had to apply for a marriage visa. Evidently, if you're a foreigner married to an American, you can basically forget about visiting your spouse's country. You've got to either move there or just be happy parking your butt in your poverty-stricken former-communist homeland!
Well, that's our Christmas plans down the drain, plus the $140 visa application fee and the 300-euro cancellation fee for our plane tickets. In true American fashion, I consoled myself and my husband by going to the mall and buying him some pants.
On the plus side, when I contacted the embassy about his immigrant visa, I discovered that the process is
highly streamlined for us because we can apply at the embassy instead of USCIS. The woman at the embassy seemed to think that Kristian's visa would be approved by this summer--far better than the 18 months to two years my book about marriage visas had led me to believe. Applying at the embassy bypasses a lot of mail and a lot of bureaucracy: my initial petition for his application will be hand-delivered to the embassy and approved that same day instead of being mailed to USCIS and languishing there for up to a year.
Friday
It is not easy to get into the USA
My job situation is plodding along nicely--I'm working as an adjunct for two online schools now, so even if one school reduced my course load, we'd still be able to make ends meet. So, we decided to take the plunge and plan to return to Texas for Christmas. My grandparents are getting very old, and if Kristian is ever going to meet them, it's probably unwise to wait until after his immigration paperwork goes through (we haven't actually done more than gather papers for that process: he won't be allowed to enter the US at all while it's being processed, and we wanted him to make one visit before we started with immigration).
Many people don't know this, but the US requires people from many countries to get an actual visa just to visit the country. We Americans can enter almost any country in the world on the strength of our passports: I could actually go LIVE in Serbia--for example--indefinitely with only my passport. Croatians are not so lucky. They need a visa just to visit the States.
So, we put in his application--it's online, but it's long. One amusing question asked if the applicant intends to enter the country as part of a terrorist organization. I'd like to know if anyone ever clicks "Yes."
Then we scheduled an appointment for him to interview at the embassy. Then we gathered paperwork: a letter from his boss, mainly, and a form from my parents promising to pay for his support while he's in the country. We have to go to the bank today to pay the $140 application fee (yes, that's right: more than it costs to apply to Stanford's PhD program). Then, on Tuesday, we travel to Zagreb and he goes in for the interview. I hope all goes well. He dreams of firing guns and visiting the Nike outlet and Red Lobster...I just want the experience of being with my husband in my home country. That is a weird thing to realize: my spouse has never set foot in my homeland.
Many people don't know this, but the US requires people from many countries to get an actual visa just to visit the country. We Americans can enter almost any country in the world on the strength of our passports: I could actually go LIVE in Serbia--for example--indefinitely with only my passport. Croatians are not so lucky. They need a visa just to visit the States.
So, we put in his application--it's online, but it's long. One amusing question asked if the applicant intends to enter the country as part of a terrorist organization. I'd like to know if anyone ever clicks "Yes."
Then we scheduled an appointment for him to interview at the embassy. Then we gathered paperwork: a letter from his boss, mainly, and a form from my parents promising to pay for his support while he's in the country. We have to go to the bank today to pay the $140 application fee (yes, that's right: more than it costs to apply to Stanford's PhD program). Then, on Tuesday, we travel to Zagreb and he goes in for the interview. I hope all goes well. He dreams of firing guns and visiting the Nike outlet and Red Lobster...I just want the experience of being with my husband in my home country. That is a weird thing to realize: my spouse has never set foot in my homeland.
Wednesday
Green onions: who knew?
A few weeks ago, I read in the clueless cook's handbook about something interesting you can do with green onions after you've chopped up the green parts: replant the bulbs and watch them grow! I've had trouble finding good green onions in the stores here. If I can find them, they're often brown and wilted, so I jumped at the prospect of a continual harvest of green onions. I stuck the bulbs down in a pot, gave them a little water, and went to Osijek for the weekend with Kristian. When we got back, here's what I had:
I think tonight, it's time for a stir-fry!
Pretty cool, huh? Three or four weeks later, they've grown into this:
Saturday
What I've been reading
One of the great things about being a homemaker/online-education drone is that I have tons of time to read. I wish we had a good bookstore handy, but--and I apologize in advance to the Luddites--but my Kindle is a thing of beauty. You can get so many books for free! I do prefer reading the old-school paper-based kind, if I have the choice, but the other day I came across a reference to a novel called Lady Into Fox that I had never heard of. Allegedly, that novel had sparked the 1920's subgenre of "fantastic" novels like Harriet Hume, Lolly Willows, and Orlando. Anyway, I just went online to Amazon, found Lady Into Fox for Kindle--for free--and nabbed it. Of course, there are about 30 other unread books on my Kindle, but at least I'm well-prepared for the next tedious train ride!
Anyway, here's what I've read in the past few weeks since getting back from our honeymoon:
Anyway, here's what I've read in the past few weeks since getting back from our honeymoon:
The Lake by George Moore
The most remarkable aspect of this book--to me-- is its sense of place. The scenery, weather, and people of County Mayo are so vivid and visual. If this book had been written by a woman, it would be called "regionalist." As it is, it's called a tour de force.
The Fountain Overflows and This Real Night Rebecca West
These are the first two novels in a semi-autobiographical trilogy about the lives of the four Aubrey children in fin de siecle, Edwardian and WWI England. The first book was the only one published during West's lifetime: the second book doesn't come across as a draft, but allegedly the third is only eight chapters and an outline. I don't know what this trilogy is about, exactly, but its exploration of the family dynamic from the perspective of a creative child-then-famous-concert pianist is fascinating. This is one clever family whose dinner party you WOULD NOT MISS, e.g., the narrator's description of her older sister's behavior the morning after she confessed to being engaged: "She was still meek, but her meekness was pretentious. Though she was a lamb, it was one which had got itself embroidered on a church banner."
The Monk Matthew Lewis
Possibly THE 18th century gothic novel, The Monk is about a wicked monk, incest, sorcery, ghosts, murder, sepulchers, portents, the Inquisition....you get the picture. It's a ludicrous good time.
Drama in Muslin George Moore
Drama in Muslin is a comic send-up of the 19th-century Dublin marriage market. It's insightful and funny, and the characters are almost Austenian. But it was the fourth book by Moore I read this summer, and you know, I don't think I like George Moore. He's just OH such a man of the world and so kindly condescending to notice lowly females and the deluded religious.
A Doll’s House Ibsen
I reread this play after I read Moore's critique of it in his introduction to Drama in Muslin, and I'll be darned if that bastard isn't right: Nora's sudden transformation just strains one's credulity too far.
I reread this play after I read Moore's critique of it in his introduction to Drama in Muslin, and I'll be darned if that bastard isn't right: Nora's sudden transformation just strains one's credulity too far.
Kushiel’s Dart Jacqueline Carey
Look, every eight books or so I need a cheap fantasy novel. This one's set in an alternative Renaissance/medieval Europe and the main character is a polyglot of a courtesan (*snort snort*) who works as a spy for her guardian before being capture by Vikings, visiting the Welsh court...etc. This book's not bad...one of the more woman-friendly fantasy novels I've ever read.
Look, every eight books or so I need a cheap fantasy novel. This one's set in an alternative Renaissance/medieval Europe and the main character is a polyglot of a courtesan (*snort snort*) who works as a spy for her guardian before being capture by Vikings, visiting the Welsh court...etc. This book's not bad...one of the more woman-friendly fantasy novels I've ever read.
Harriet Hume Rebecca West
Why is West only on the margins of the canon? Harriet Hume is her foray into high modernism: it's one of those 1920's "fantastic" novels, and this one asserts the necessity of respectful exchange between the sexes by allowing the boundaries between one mind and another, this world and the next, fantasy and reality, to become fluid.
Why is West only on the margins of the canon? Harriet Hume is her foray into high modernism: it's one of those 1920's "fantastic" novels, and this one asserts the necessity of respectful exchange between the sexes by allowing the boundaries between one mind and another, this world and the next, fantasy and reality, to become fluid.
Sylvia Townsend Warner: A Biography Claire Harman
Warner's another female modernist that deserves a more central place in the canon, but I found this biography to be unsatisfactory. A literary biography is a strange beast: you can get an encyclopedia like Forster's Yeats: A Life; you can get a sort interpretive dance, like Lyndall Gordon's T. S. Eliot: An Imperfect Life; or you can get a rather dry chronology without any sense of a narrative arc, like this bio of Warner. "Sylvia did this, Sylvia wrote that. Then she died." Plus, there's a dearth of pictures in this book, which in my opinion is the death knell of a biography. Of course, it's not like you have any options: as far as I can tell, this is the only bio of Warner.
Warner's another female modernist that deserves a more central place in the canon, but I found this biography to be unsatisfactory. A literary biography is a strange beast: you can get an encyclopedia like Forster's Yeats: A Life; you can get a sort interpretive dance, like Lyndall Gordon's T. S. Eliot: An Imperfect Life; or you can get a rather dry chronology without any sense of a narrative arc, like this bio of Warner. "Sylvia did this, Sylvia wrote that. Then she died." Plus, there's a dearth of pictures in this book, which in my opinion is the death knell of a biography. Of course, it's not like you have any options: as far as I can tell, this is the only bio of Warner.
Thursday
The weather is beautiful for doing laundry
Comparitively few people here in Croatia have clothes dryers, instead, the normal thing is clotheslines and old-fashioned metal clothes-horses. I happen to love the smell of clean laundry off the line, sun-warmed and breeze -scented: who doesn't? Plus, using a clothes line instead of a dryer is economical and environmentally sound.
But there is one problem. In the summer, days when it's sunny and at least somewhat warm are not too rare, even in this Central European, sub-alpine climate we have here in northern Croatia. In the winter, we have these nice steam-heated radiators before which to position the clothes-horse. But autumn weather here is not conducive to laundry-drying...at ALL. It's rainy and cool...high temperatures in the 70's IF we're lucky! It's too warm to turn the heat on and too cold to dry the clothes outside, and a few weeks ago when I tried to dry clothes inside on the horse, they didn't dry for two days and got a gross musty smell in the meantime, so I had to wash them again anyway. No kidding, I don't think we've had more than three hours of sun in a row since we got back from the honeymoon a week and a half ago.
If anyone has any words of wisdom for how to dry clothes when it's chilly and damp, I'd like to hear! I keep telling myself that people didn't have electric drying machines for most of human history, and somehow women dried those enormous dresses. But at the moment I'm a bit stumped: I wash tiny loads of clothes so they don't crowd on the clothes-horse and get musty.
And, of course, my first reaction this morning when Kristian said, "it looks like it might clear up a bit today," was to rush inside and start a load of towels!
Wednesday
You say potato...
One of the things about Croatia that I love is the more relaxed attitude toward work. Kristian works 30-hour weeks, and that's considered full-time. People take long breaks for coffee. It's probably written in the Croatian constitution that everyone gets at least week at the seaside every year. Of course, salaries are small and people are poor. But working AS MANY HOURS AS YOU POSSIBLY CAN is not the cultural virtue that it is in the U.S. People here like to slow down and spend time with friends and family. If you "drop in" to a Croatian's house, even if she's a stranger and you're making a business call, she will drop whatever she's doing to make coffee and serve cookies...and you better not say you aren't hungry or thirsty!!
Of course, this easy-going, relaxed attitude is very annoying when you want something done. We have been without internet at home for two weeks. The tenant before us had the same kind of internet, and a guy came out to set up the modem and router. But at the main office, they can't be bothered to switch on our service. All they have to do is TURN ON THE DSL. It's guaranteed to be on within 30 days of us requesting service. Thirty days!! To make matters worse, they don't quit sending you a bill, whether or not you actually have internet. So we could be billed for a whole month of internet service that they didn't give us.
Since Kristian does freelance web design on the side, and I teach online, we both require internet for our jobs, and it's really a hardship not to have it. Croatia isn't like the US in that there's free wireless at every coffee shop, gas station, and fast food joint. There are a couple coffee shops in town that MIGHT have internet, but it's down as often as not.
Oh well, the 30 days will be up by the time we're back from the sea--we're leaving tomorrow--so at least the annoyance is almost over. But I was just thinking today....it takes about 1 day of no-internet-at-home for me to quit thinking "Croatians have such a healthy, balanced attitude toward work" and start thinking, "Croatians are so damned lazy!!!!" :D
Of course, this easy-going, relaxed attitude is very annoying when you want something done. We have been without internet at home for two weeks. The tenant before us had the same kind of internet, and a guy came out to set up the modem and router. But at the main office, they can't be bothered to switch on our service. All they have to do is TURN ON THE DSL. It's guaranteed to be on within 30 days of us requesting service. Thirty days!! To make matters worse, they don't quit sending you a bill, whether or not you actually have internet. So we could be billed for a whole month of internet service that they didn't give us.
Since Kristian does freelance web design on the side, and I teach online, we both require internet for our jobs, and it's really a hardship not to have it. Croatia isn't like the US in that there's free wireless at every coffee shop, gas station, and fast food joint. There are a couple coffee shops in town that MIGHT have internet, but it's down as often as not.
Oh well, the 30 days will be up by the time we're back from the sea--we're leaving tomorrow--so at least the annoyance is almost over. But I was just thinking today....it takes about 1 day of no-internet-at-home for me to quit thinking "Croatians have such a healthy, balanced attitude toward work" and start thinking, "Croatians are so damned lazy!!!!" :D
Sunday
Eclipse happened here, too!
Plus, the tickets cost only 15 kuna--less than $3--so I was thinking, "we should go to the movies more often!" In a Croatian theater, you get a reserved seat with your movie ticket, so you can buy your ticket early and waltz into the theater at the last minute without having to worry about getting a bad seat.
Well, we sat on the last row, which, in retrospect, wasn't a good decision. The theater was full of young teenagers, about half of whom were intoxicated, and the back row smelled of vomit and other bodily fluids that you might expect to find on the back row of a cheap movie theater attended mostly by teenagers. Ewwwwww!!!! The theater did have some of those cool features I was hoping for: a balcony, a stage, and box seats in the back. It's a great old building, but the sound system was simply a stack of stereo speakers on the stage, under the screen. Honestly, I had trouble hearing the dialog. Yes, yes, all the expected jokes about how Twilight movies don't have any unmissable dialog. I don't care: that series is one of my guilty pleasures, and I want to eat up every line of teenage-melodrama-fraught dialog!
All in all, it was a fun evening, especially when Edward finally proposed to Bella, the teenage girls in the audience cheered and clapped, and Kristian slapped his hand over his face and groaned. It really was a heroic sacrifice for him to go to that movie with me! But, as much as I wanted to be charmed by the historic theater, I think that when the fourth movie comes out I'm going to drag Kristian with me to Zagreb to the fancy multiplex.
Tuesday
I have bought the mansion of a love but not possessed it; or, Good news comes in threes!!
The two big clouds on my Croatian horizon have been this hateful apartment and my inability to find a job, and it looks like they're both dissipating...but on both fronts I'm in that tenuous phase when the step has been taken but the results haven't come through.
1. We are currently paying rent on this adorable cottage:
I could not be more in love with it! It looks bigger than it is: the attic is unfinished, so we just have the bottom floor: bedroom, living room, little kitchen and 1.5 bath. But, more importantly, a rose garden
3. Best of all, three week from today I'll be on the island of Vis on my honeymoon!! Kristian and I are married, legally, but it doesn't feel like we are because there wasn't a religious ceremony and our parents weren't there. I don't feel any more or less committed to him than I did before we signed the papers. (after all, I sold my car and moved to the sardine can for him, and as distasteful as those things were, I'd still rather be here with him than in the U.S: comfortable but lonely!) But on August 23rd we're having the ceremony with our parents on one island, and then hopping a ferry to our honeymoon on another one! It is going to be really nice to put on a white dress and stand in front of our parents and say our vows for real.
1. We are currently paying rent on this adorable cottage:
I could not be more in love with it! It looks bigger than it is: the attic is unfinished, so we just have the bottom floor: bedroom, living room, little kitchen and 1.5 bath. But, more importantly, a rose garden
And over the garden walls, a castle view!
Okay, it's only sort of a castle view, if you peer real hard over the neighbor's shrubbery. But I LIVE NEXT DOOR TO A CASTLE!
Kinda. But we are still staying in this dump of a Jugoslavian sardine can. Why? We're waiting for them to switch the internet service from the apartment to the house, and, like a good telecommuter, I follow the internet. We could, in theory, go ahead and move, but then I'd have to come back to the apartment every day to work. I'm not sure what could make grading more unappealing than it already is besides walking 20 minutes and climbing 5 flights of stairs to a stinky gross cave where there is no longer a coffee pot.
2. It looks like I may have gotten a new online teaching job! I got an email yesterday from Rasmussen college saying they wanted to tentatively schedule me to teach starting in October, pending of course the requisite phone interview, paperwork, training, etc. No word about how many classes or what it pays, but still, I'm so happy: if I do get this job and it pays about like my current online job, we can get a car!! Plus, I'll actually be working something closer to a normal workweek instead of finishing my work at 9:30 and then twiddling my thumbs for the rest of the day (i.e. playing video games). However, this job is not a done deal by a long shot,
so it could all come to naught. But in the meantime, I'm going to just hope for the best and enjoy my dreams of car ownership!3. Best of all, three week from today I'll be on the island of Vis on my honeymoon!! Kristian and I are married, legally, but it doesn't feel like we are because there wasn't a religious ceremony and our parents weren't there. I don't feel any more or less committed to him than I did before we signed the papers. (after all, I sold my car and moved to the sardine can for him, and as distasteful as those things were, I'd still rather be here with him than in the U.S: comfortable but lonely!) But on August 23rd we're having the ceremony with our parents on one island, and then hopping a ferry to our honeymoon on another one! It is going to be really nice to put on a white dress and stand in front of our parents and say our vows for real.
Sunday
Let us all bask in television's warm glowing warming glow
I was never much of TV-lover back home. I'd have a few shows I'd watch, plus college football, and other than that--and The Weather Channel--I could take it or leave it. I eventually gave up on LOST because it was too much of a commitment. Our new house has a 30-year-old TV with 6 channels, and I think of those 6 channels as an unbelievable luxury: I can't wait to watch bad american sitcoms (The Nanny), bad Spanish soap operas (My Sin/Moj Grijeh/ Mi Pecado), and Croatian versions of American reality TV (Hrvatska Trazi Zvijezda: Croatia Seeks a Star, AKA American Idol), all with helpful Croatian subtitles!!
As gleeful as I am about my precious six channels, I'm still grieving my inability to watch the premier of Mad Men, Season 4 tonight and of Season 8 of Project Runway later this week. I've loved PR for years, but I just started watching Mad Men this summer on the website SurftheChannel , and I absolutely fell in love. I dislike the main character--if Don Draper really IS the main character--but for me the show is about the female characters: the sexy husband-hunting managing secretary, the depressed housewife, the career girl fighting for respect and equality in a misogynist 1960's working world. The show explores all three roles with sympathy and sophistication, and that's what I watch for. Well, that and the clothes.
Hulu doesn't work overseas, and neither do Lifetime's online episodes. Both Mad Men and Project Runway will eventually be posted on SurfTheChannel--which, FYI, is 100% legal as far as I can find out and has partnered with the Discovery Channel, so I feel like it would be shut down if it were illegal...it's no secret. What drives me crazy is that the first episode of Man Men, Season 4 will be playing in Times Square tonight, and I WILL BE MISSING IT!! I'll have to wait two or three days at least to watch it here.
I can always comfort myself with a book or a video game--my preferred forms of entertainment--or, you know, go for a walk in the beautiful city I live in and visit the castle or cathedral or other marvels of medieval or baroque architecture less than five minutes from my apartment....but Mad Men, readers, MAD MEN!!!!
Well, if you're watching it tonight, think of me and enjoy it extra for my impatient sake ^_^
As gleeful as I am about my precious six channels, I'm still grieving my inability to watch the premier of Mad Men, Season 4 tonight and of Season 8 of Project Runway later this week. I've loved PR for years, but I just started watching Mad Men this summer on the website SurftheChannel , and I absolutely fell in love. I dislike the main character--if Don Draper really IS the main character--but for me the show is about the female characters: the sexy husband-hunting managing secretary, the depressed housewife, the career girl fighting for respect and equality in a misogynist 1960's working world. The show explores all three roles with sympathy and sophistication, and that's what I watch for. Well, that and the clothes.
Hulu doesn't work overseas, and neither do Lifetime's online episodes. Both Mad Men and Project Runway will eventually be posted on SurfTheChannel--which, FYI, is 100% legal as far as I can find out and has partnered with the Discovery Channel, so I feel like it would be shut down if it were illegal...it's no secret. What drives me crazy is that the first episode of Man Men, Season 4 will be playing in Times Square tonight, and I WILL BE MISSING IT!! I'll have to wait two or three days at least to watch it here.
I can always comfort myself with a book or a video game--my preferred forms of entertainment--or, you know, go for a walk in the beautiful city I live in and visit the castle or cathedral or other marvels of medieval or baroque architecture less than five minutes from my apartment....but Mad Men, readers, MAD MEN!!!!
Well, if you're watching it tonight, think of me and enjoy it extra for my impatient sake ^_^
Saturday
Falling down in the dumps and getting out
I got married on Saturday, and I really need to write about it on here: it's a surreal experience getting married in a strange country in a language you don't understand that well! But for the past couple of weeks I've been feeling so down in the dumps that I haven't felt like trying to write about a joyous occasion. I've been feeling incredibly anxious and worried and stressed out.
I think it's normal to have these down periods when you're adjusting to so many changes in your life. Kristian and I are are gathering papers together for both our visa applications: mine for here, and his for the U.S. It's very expensive, and it's incredibly stressful to have your future with your spouse hung up in paperwork in government offices.
Plus, I got a pay cut. As many of you know, I teach English online, and I get paid by the class. For the past six or eight terms, I've gotten five classes or even more, but this time I only got four. It's a manageable pay cut, and I don't mind less grading. But it's worrisome because if I lose another class next term, or two classes, we will start being in trouble, and if my salary drops below $18,000, then I can't sponsor Kristian's entry into the U.S. That would mean that I would have to enter the US alone and find a job before we could really even get his paperwork underway...which could be a year or more of separation. That, or getting my parents to sponsor his entry, which they probably would do, but neither he nor I (nor they, I'm sure!!!) want to involve the government in their financial status. It's better for us to handle it ourselves. So, I've been looking for additional online jobs for the past month or so, and NOTHING. I got one interview with the first job I applied for...and it was cancelled two days after it was scheduled because all positions were filled already. That was crushing. I've gotten no other feedback except for form emails saying my CV was received...then silence.
Finally, I hate our apartment, and I can't imagine many things worse than working from home in a home you loathe. It's dirty, old, dank, cramped, and stuffy. The bathroom has a constant stench wafting up from the 50-year-old Yugoslavian drains. The refrigerator doesn't get cold enough, so our food spoils almost instantly, and two weeks ago I spent three days with a very unpleasant stomach ailment probably garnered from something I ate. Kristian had it for a day as well.
I've let this stuff get to me. It's a mental and spiritual battle, really. I've never been one of those head-in-the sand Christians who suggest that trusting in God means things stop sucking, and I've noticed that it's usually rich people or the highly medicated who express that sentiment. Maybe I'd be a cheerier person if I could embrace that viewpoint, but I'd feel like I was lying to myself and everyone around me. A thin veneer of cheerfulness has little or nothing to do with a real faith in God, and I challenge anybody to think that it does after they spend some time in the book of Job!
What DOES have to do with a real faith in God is being willing to leave the future to God and live in the here and now. I've always loved that verse in the Sermon on the Mount that goes "Therefore, do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own" (Matt 6: 34). What really gets me down is not all the little manageable issues today, but fears for an insecure future and potential disasters like Kristian and I being apart for months or years because of financial problems and immigration issues. But there is no point in worrying about that future...let it worry about itself. Today we're together, we have work, and we have food to eat and a place to live.
AND today we get the keys to our new place! I'll write more and post pictures of its amazing perfections ASAP. It's tiny to the point that I bet most American newlyweds would be horrified...maybe....but it's bright and airy and sunny AND....well, I won't give away its best features until I get some good pictures!! ^_^ Point is, we're about to move into the little European cottage of my dreams. That still leaves us with the job issue, and the immigration issue. But there is no sense in ruining today because I'm worried about tomorrow.
I think it's normal to have these down periods when you're adjusting to so many changes in your life. Kristian and I are are gathering papers together for both our visa applications: mine for here, and his for the U.S. It's very expensive, and it's incredibly stressful to have your future with your spouse hung up in paperwork in government offices.
Plus, I got a pay cut. As many of you know, I teach English online, and I get paid by the class. For the past six or eight terms, I've gotten five classes or even more, but this time I only got four. It's a manageable pay cut, and I don't mind less grading. But it's worrisome because if I lose another class next term, or two classes, we will start being in trouble, and if my salary drops below $18,000, then I can't sponsor Kristian's entry into the U.S. That would mean that I would have to enter the US alone and find a job before we could really even get his paperwork underway...which could be a year or more of separation. That, or getting my parents to sponsor his entry, which they probably would do, but neither he nor I (nor they, I'm sure!!!) want to involve the government in their financial status. It's better for us to handle it ourselves. So, I've been looking for additional online jobs for the past month or so, and NOTHING. I got one interview with the first job I applied for...and it was cancelled two days after it was scheduled because all positions were filled already. That was crushing. I've gotten no other feedback except for form emails saying my CV was received...then silence.
Finally, I hate our apartment, and I can't imagine many things worse than working from home in a home you loathe. It's dirty, old, dank, cramped, and stuffy. The bathroom has a constant stench wafting up from the 50-year-old Yugoslavian drains. The refrigerator doesn't get cold enough, so our food spoils almost instantly, and two weeks ago I spent three days with a very unpleasant stomach ailment probably garnered from something I ate. Kristian had it for a day as well.
I've let this stuff get to me. It's a mental and spiritual battle, really. I've never been one of those head-in-the sand Christians who suggest that trusting in God means things stop sucking, and I've noticed that it's usually rich people or the highly medicated who express that sentiment. Maybe I'd be a cheerier person if I could embrace that viewpoint, but I'd feel like I was lying to myself and everyone around me. A thin veneer of cheerfulness has little or nothing to do with a real faith in God, and I challenge anybody to think that it does after they spend some time in the book of Job!
What DOES have to do with a real faith in God is being willing to leave the future to God and live in the here and now. I've always loved that verse in the Sermon on the Mount that goes "Therefore, do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own" (Matt 6: 34). What really gets me down is not all the little manageable issues today, but fears for an insecure future and potential disasters like Kristian and I being apart for months or years because of financial problems and immigration issues. But there is no point in worrying about that future...let it worry about itself. Today we're together, we have work, and we have food to eat and a place to live.
AND today we get the keys to our new place! I'll write more and post pictures of its amazing perfections ASAP. It's tiny to the point that I bet most American newlyweds would be horrified...maybe....but it's bright and airy and sunny AND....well, I won't give away its best features until I get some good pictures!! ^_^ Point is, we're about to move into the little European cottage of my dreams. That still leaves us with the job issue, and the immigration issue. But there is no sense in ruining today because I'm worried about tomorrow.
Friday
How's my Croatian? It depends....
Yesterday was a good day for me, language-wise: I got three compliments on my Croatian! One of them was especially exciting because it came from the woman who translates the documents for my visa, so she's fluent in several languages and knows what she's talking about.
But when people back home would ask "How's your Croatian?" or "Do you speak the language there?" I'm not sure how to answer. I really struggle to put sentences together. The words are hard to pronounce: too many consonants. Like the word for "luggage": prtljaga. or "patient": "strpljiv." I know exactly what those words mean when I hear, read, or write them, but speaking them is another matter altogether! Plus the case endings are hard to get straight at a normal conversation speed. On a test, I could write out the proper case ending for a noun after the number "four," but saying it...I'm still a bit too slow! :)
Sometimes I understand exactly what someone is saying. Yesterday our new landlady was telling Kristian about how our little house had belonged to her parents, but then her father died in 2000. The real estate agent had estimated the value of the house at 350,000 euros. (No, it's no mansion. it's more like maybe the size of a tool shed behind a mansion. But it has a huge yard in a desirable location, so the land itself is valuable).
I understood all that, but I also heard her talking about dogs, and I figured she was saying something about pets in the house, but I didn't understand any of the words. Turns out she was telling Kristian that she and her husband own a metal factory that went through a huge boom for a while because they were making ID tags for dogs. Then the government started requiring dogs to have microchips, so no one was buying ID tags, and their business really suffered. My vocabulary is pretty minimal as it is, and "microchip implantation" has not really ever come up before, so I was lost.
My language abilities, then, are pretty hit-or-miss...but I am getting there! I can't even imagine what it will be like to be fluent, but I look forward to that day!
But when people back home would ask "How's your Croatian?" or "Do you speak the language there?" I'm not sure how to answer. I really struggle to put sentences together. The words are hard to pronounce: too many consonants. Like the word for "luggage": prtljaga. or "patient": "strpljiv." I know exactly what those words mean when I hear, read, or write them, but speaking them is another matter altogether! Plus the case endings are hard to get straight at a normal conversation speed. On a test, I could write out the proper case ending for a noun after the number "four," but saying it...I'm still a bit too slow! :)
Sometimes I understand exactly what someone is saying. Yesterday our new landlady was telling Kristian about how our little house had belonged to her parents, but then her father died in 2000. The real estate agent had estimated the value of the house at 350,000 euros. (No, it's no mansion. it's more like maybe the size of a tool shed behind a mansion. But it has a huge yard in a desirable location, so the land itself is valuable).
I understood all that, but I also heard her talking about dogs, and I figured she was saying something about pets in the house, but I didn't understand any of the words. Turns out she was telling Kristian that she and her husband own a metal factory that went through a huge boom for a while because they were making ID tags for dogs. Then the government started requiring dogs to have microchips, so no one was buying ID tags, and their business really suffered. My vocabulary is pretty minimal as it is, and "microchip implantation" has not really ever come up before, so I was lost.
My language abilities, then, are pretty hit-or-miss...but I am getting there! I can't even imagine what it will be like to be fluent, but I look forward to that day!
What did people do without the internet: cooking edition.
I bet every single person reading this has wondered how things were DONE before the internet or has thought back wonderingly to the days when people did still use typewriters, card catalogs, and so forth.
Living in another country only intensifies that feeling. I've written about my cooking woes on here, but thanks to some practice I've adjusted: I finally found the darned cornstarch, my thoughtful mother is mailing me measuring implements, and I've found quite a few recipes on allrecipes.com that I can manage. What would I have done if there weren't such a thing as allrecipes.com? Wedged a few heavy cookbooks in my already overweight two suitcases? Troubled my mom or others to mail me recipes? Bought a Croatian-language cookbook and muddled through? (I am looking forward to being able to buy a Croatian cookbook and use it, but it is going to be SLOW going.)
But even allrecipes isn't perfect: maybe I just can't sort effectively, but it seems like most of what's on that site requires too many expensive ingredients. It seemed like I was spending 70-100 kuna ($14-$20) every time I made dinner. Fortunately, a quick Google search took me to the very-economical-looking website, Frugal Recipes. It ain't pretty, but I'm trying an inexpensive green bean recipe from there tonight.
Through some other mysterious channels of the internet (I followed a chain of links about keeping your maiden name), I came upon the Unintended Housewife, a blog with a title I can relate to. She posted a recipe for stuffed peppers, which Kristian and I love but which I have only made unsuccessfully, stuffed with leftover barbecue from a recipe posted by the author of the blog Thrift at Home.
I'm making that barbecue tonight and planning stuffed peppers (punjene paprike in Croatian) for tomorrow. Now I'm all set with frugal-cooking resources. My only remaining cooking woe is that it's around 90 degrees and there is no air-conditioning in the kitchen or even much airflow. Let me tell you, cooking over a gas stovetop in July is no swell time. That woe will soon be over too, though, because on Saturday we get the keys to our new place!
When reason and cultural conditioning collide...
Kristian and I have been shopping for wedding rings. We found one yesterday that I really love: it's white gold with three lines etched into it that terminate in different points in a round, clear sparkly stone. I love it because it has that simple, graphic quality that I love in modernist abstract art. But in Croatia, those clear sparkly stones you find in jewelers are virtually NEVER diamonds: they're "zircons" (which sounds only slightly better than "cubic zirconia"). But, since all rings are made-to-order, Kristian asked how much it would be for diamonds, and it would be only 50 euro a diamond more. Feeling flush, Kristian avowed that his woman should have whichever she wants.
But I don't know WHAT I want. Ethically and economically, the zircons make more sense. It seems frivolous to spend even 150 euro (that's more than a months' rent) just to have stones that came out of the ground instead of a lab. (I say that not because I'm trying to pose ad being not materialistic--unfortunately, I am--but because my materialism tends away from jewelry toward clothes and travel). Moreover, diamonds are frequently mined using slave labor. In the States, you can get diamonds certified to have been mined by paid laborers, but the methods for obtaining those certifications are notoriously corrupt even there, and here.....well, let's just say the government doesn't even regulate the well-being of the Roma within its own borders, so how much less the well-being of slaves in other countries? A few months ago, Jessie sent me this amusing Onion article satirizing the diamond trade: she sent it to me at the time to make me feel smug about my diamond-free engagement ring, but if I get a wedding ring with diamonds, I sort of deserve it for a different reason.
Ethics and economics aside, sitcoms and movies I've seen since childhood have ingrained the idea into my mind that a wedding ring with zircons instead of diamonds reflects the cheap and artificial nature of the relationship. Think about it: diamonds are forever....zircons are for scrubs and old ladies watching the Jewelry channel. Yes, it's silly, but one thing that living overseas teaches you is that, silly or not, cultural prejudices aren't erased easily. How many readers of this blog spent years paying for a diamond ring that has to be insured? How many men dream of buying expensive, sparkly presents for their wives or girlfriends? (not that I want to discourage that.....) Why? Why does love, for so many Americans, need an expensive symbol that wastes money and contributes to the sum total of suffering in the world?
Well....it sounds like I've talked myself out of getting diamonds in my ring. But I won't be able to talk myself out of feeling slightly embarrassed about TELLING people my ring has cubic zirconia in it. Oh, well. One step at a time...
But I don't know WHAT I want. Ethically and economically, the zircons make more sense. It seems frivolous to spend even 150 euro (that's more than a months' rent) just to have stones that came out of the ground instead of a lab. (I say that not because I'm trying to pose ad being not materialistic--unfortunately, I am--but because my materialism tends away from jewelry toward clothes and travel). Moreover, diamonds are frequently mined using slave labor. In the States, you can get diamonds certified to have been mined by paid laborers, but the methods for obtaining those certifications are notoriously corrupt even there, and here.....well, let's just say the government doesn't even regulate the well-being of the Roma within its own borders, so how much less the well-being of slaves in other countries? A few months ago, Jessie sent me this amusing Onion article satirizing the diamond trade: she sent it to me at the time to make me feel smug about my diamond-free engagement ring, but if I get a wedding ring with diamonds, I sort of deserve it for a different reason.
Ethics and economics aside, sitcoms and movies I've seen since childhood have ingrained the idea into my mind that a wedding ring with zircons instead of diamonds reflects the cheap and artificial nature of the relationship. Think about it: diamonds are forever....zircons are for scrubs and old ladies watching the Jewelry channel. Yes, it's silly, but one thing that living overseas teaches you is that, silly or not, cultural prejudices aren't erased easily. How many readers of this blog spent years paying for a diamond ring that has to be insured? How many men dream of buying expensive, sparkly presents for their wives or girlfriends? (not that I want to discourage that.....) Why? Why does love, for so many Americans, need an expensive symbol that wastes money and contributes to the sum total of suffering in the world?
Well....it sounds like I've talked myself out of getting diamonds in my ring. But I won't be able to talk myself out of feeling slightly embarrassed about TELLING people my ring has cubic zirconia in it. Oh, well. One step at a time...
Wednesday
Shopping in Croatia
I spent the day today in Zagreb shopping with my future sister-in-law. In typical Croatian fashion, we didn't buy anything :D Well, I bought nail polish and cheap sunglasses.
But it was interesting to see the prices of products that I buy--or dream of buying--in the US.
Prada flats: $300 (same flats in the US: $600)
Lancome mascara: $70 (this is what I wear: I pay $22 for it at Dillards)
So, I draw two conclusions from this:
1) I can buy Prada shoes for the price of 4.27 tubes of Lancome mascara (According to today's exchange rate, those shoes might be purchased in the US by 27 tubes of Lancome mascara).
2) I need someone to start mailing me Lancome Definicils mascara in black.
But it was interesting to see the prices of products that I buy--or dream of buying--in the US.
Prada flats: $300 (same flats in the US: $600)
Lancome mascara: $70 (this is what I wear: I pay $22 for it at Dillards)
So, I draw two conclusions from this:
1) I can buy Prada shoes for the price of 4.27 tubes of Lancome mascara (According to today's exchange rate, those shoes might be purchased in the US by 27 tubes of Lancome mascara).
2) I need someone to start mailing me Lancome Definicils mascara in black.
Monday
An All-American 4th of July!
We started off the holiday early by going to hear a local blues-rock band that was playing in the park, the Voodoo Lizards. The lead singer looked like he was trying to mimic Stevie Ray Vaughan:
Sure enough, they sang "Texas Flood." Unsatisfactorily, IMO, but an expat Texan is hard to please when it comes to a Stevie Ray Vaughan cover. Their own songs were a lot better than their covers, definitely worth a listen.
The actual 4th was awesome. We did go to church first thing, but we went by the store on the way home to buy chips and candy. Then when we got home, we turned on the air conditioner, which we don't normally use. Then I made chicken salad and we gorged ourselves on chips and salad while watching Season 4 of The Simpsons. Then Kristian fell asleep. I polished off the chips, candy, and Season 4. ("I call the big one Bitey!")
Needless to say, by bedtime I had a seriously upset stomach. But it was worth it.
Sure enough, they sang "Texas Flood." Unsatisfactorily, IMO, but an expat Texan is hard to please when it comes to a Stevie Ray Vaughan cover. Their own songs were a lot better than their covers, definitely worth a listen.
The actual 4th was awesome. We did go to church first thing, but we went by the store on the way home to buy chips and candy. Then when we got home, we turned on the air conditioner, which we don't normally use. Then I made chicken salad and we gorged ourselves on chips and salad while watching Season 4 of The Simpsons. Then Kristian fell asleep. I polished off the chips, candy, and Season 4. ("I call the big one Bitey!")
Needless to say, by bedtime I had a seriously upset stomach. But it was worth it.
Saturday
The sounds of summer
Kristian worked today, even though it's Saturday, because he has to earn some vacation time for our honeymoon. Around mid-afternoon, about the time he's supposed to be walking home, I heard this huge racket of car horns. It sounded like dozens of car alarms were going off all at once.
My first thought was "I wonder what could have caused that traffic jam?" so I rushed to the balcony to look. My second thought was "I hope Kristian didn't get run over or hit by a train!!!!" So I grabbed my cell phone to call him and make sure he's still alive, when I noticed the sound of car horns was getting closer. Finally I saw one car after another driving by, many of them decorated with Croatian flags and/or flowers. Every driver was joyfully hammering away at the car horn. And then I remembered: of course, it's a Saturday in July. It's a wedding!!
After the wedding ceremony at the church, the guest form a big caravan to drive to the reception hall, honking their horns all the way. It's pretty endearing in the same way noisy children are endearing: the guests express their overflow of high spirits by making a lot of noise. Fortunately, unlike noisy children, the cars go by before the noise wears out its welcome.
It makes me wonder what people did back in the days of horse and buggy.
My first thought was "I wonder what could have caused that traffic jam?" so I rushed to the balcony to look. My second thought was "I hope Kristian didn't get run over or hit by a train!!!!" So I grabbed my cell phone to call him and make sure he's still alive, when I noticed the sound of car horns was getting closer. Finally I saw one car after another driving by, many of them decorated with Croatian flags and/or flowers. Every driver was joyfully hammering away at the car horn. And then I remembered: of course, it's a Saturday in July. It's a wedding!!
After the wedding ceremony at the church, the guest form a big caravan to drive to the reception hall, honking their horns all the way. It's pretty endearing in the same way noisy children are endearing: the guests express their overflow of high spirits by making a lot of noise. Fortunately, unlike noisy children, the cars go by before the noise wears out its welcome.
It makes me wonder what people did back in the days of horse and buggy.
Friday
What to do for an expat 4th of July?
You know what's great about the 4th of July holiday? Everyone else is celebrating, so you can go out into a big crowd of people, watch fireworks, gorge yourself on hot dogs and pasta salad and snow cones or whatever, listen to (usually cheesy) patriotic music, and go home feeling like you're really part of your little corner of the world. The last 4th of July that I spend in Knoxville, I went with my friends to World's Fair Park and did all of the above, and it was great.
This year, I have to get creative. Somehow, it seems appropriate to celebrate, even though I haven't even seen another American for weeks and my partner in crime here (metaphorically speaking) has never even been to the States. Maybe because of those things.
I was thinking maybe we could take a picnic lunch to the castle grounds....but most of you know that I love hotdogs, and I'm not sure hotdogs will pack very well :D Unfortunately, we don't have access to a grill. We could make hotdogs at home and then watch some movie about Middle America, something that could further Kristian's cultural education! (Not that he hasn't seen a million American movies, probably more than I have). But I'm not sure WHAT movie encapsulates "america."
So, any suggestions? How do two grill-less people celebrate the fourth, just the two of them?
This year, I have to get creative. Somehow, it seems appropriate to celebrate, even though I haven't even seen another American for weeks and my partner in crime here (metaphorically speaking) has never even been to the States. Maybe because of those things.
I was thinking maybe we could take a picnic lunch to the castle grounds....but most of you know that I love hotdogs, and I'm not sure hotdogs will pack very well :D Unfortunately, we don't have access to a grill. We could make hotdogs at home and then watch some movie about Middle America, something that could further Kristian's cultural education! (Not that he hasn't seen a million American movies, probably more than I have). But I'm not sure WHAT movie encapsulates "america."
So, any suggestions? How do two grill-less people celebrate the fourth, just the two of them?
Tuesday
What would Julia do?
I really enjoyed the movie Julie and Julia, about a New York blogger working her way through every recipe in Julia Child's Mastering the Art of French Cooking. I don't know anything about Julia Child's life except what was in the movie, but the scenes of her triumphing over the chauvenists at her cooking school by determindly chopping PILES of onions were really memorable. If you haven't seen the movie and you have any interest in blogging, cooking, or adjusting to a foreign country--which you must, or you wouldn't be here!--go watch it.
My own experiences of cooking in a foreign country have not yet achieved any measure of success. Last night I made a disgustingly runny, salty stir-fry. It's too bad, too, because stir-fry is a favorite dish for me. I dug in as soon as I slapped it onto the table, only to be quite disappointed.
Part of the problem IS that I'm a measurer: I know the basics of cooking, but I've never had that feel for it that lets people add a little of this and a little of that and produce something delicious. True, I can probably count on both hands the number of meals I've ever cooked, so I'm expecting to some day make up in skill what I lack in instinct. But, in the process, my lack of measuring cups and spoons has made for some disatrous meals! You might ask, why don't you just go buy some? Because we don't have measuring cups and teaspoons in, well, cups and teaspoons. Convert, you say? Unfortunately, cups and teaspoons are a volumne measurement and grams are a weight, so the conversion process is not foolproof. And believe me, at this point I need something foolproof. The saltiness of my failed stir-fry was a direct result of a person who's craving east Asian food adding soy sauce ˝to taste.˝ I'm surprised we didn't both have isntant strokes from the sodium!
The translation process isn't foolproof, either. To make the stir-fry sauce, I needed cornstarch. I asked Kristian what cornstarch is called here, and he said škrob. Before I went to the store, I checked the online dictionary for alternate translations, which has saved me at the grocery store in the past, like when I was shopping for chicken broth and couldn't find any in the can. One alternate for škrob was kukuruzno brašno. So I went to the store, inspected the baking aisles closely, and no škrob. But Huzzah! There was kukuruzno brašno, which translates literally into corn flour. On the same aisle they had polenta and cornmeal, though (Croatians love their corn), so I figured that kukuruzno brašno must actually be different from those things. When I got it home, it was yellowish, which did not seem right, but hey, americans overprocess and overrefine everything, so I tested some in water, and it thickened into a kind of paste, so I figured it does work as a thickener, but I had used too much.
When I made the stir-fry, though, it wouldn't thicken. So I mixed a bit more of the brašno in a little cold water and added it. I did that twice. No dice. Evidently kukuruzno brašno can be used for making a grit-like paste, but not to thicken stir-fry sauce. Oh well, live and learn. There's got to be some store in this town that has škrob.
But tonight I'm going to just buy a jar of pasta sauce. Which, incidentally, is called ˝Salsa˝ here.
My own experiences of cooking in a foreign country have not yet achieved any measure of success. Last night I made a disgustingly runny, salty stir-fry. It's too bad, too, because stir-fry is a favorite dish for me. I dug in as soon as I slapped it onto the table, only to be quite disappointed.
Part of the problem IS that I'm a measurer: I know the basics of cooking, but I've never had that feel for it that lets people add a little of this and a little of that and produce something delicious. True, I can probably count on both hands the number of meals I've ever cooked, so I'm expecting to some day make up in skill what I lack in instinct. But, in the process, my lack of measuring cups and spoons has made for some disatrous meals! You might ask, why don't you just go buy some? Because we don't have measuring cups and teaspoons in, well, cups and teaspoons. Convert, you say? Unfortunately, cups and teaspoons are a volumne measurement and grams are a weight, so the conversion process is not foolproof. And believe me, at this point I need something foolproof. The saltiness of my failed stir-fry was a direct result of a person who's craving east Asian food adding soy sauce ˝to taste.˝ I'm surprised we didn't both have isntant strokes from the sodium!
The translation process isn't foolproof, either. To make the stir-fry sauce, I needed cornstarch. I asked Kristian what cornstarch is called here, and he said škrob. Before I went to the store, I checked the online dictionary for alternate translations, which has saved me at the grocery store in the past, like when I was shopping for chicken broth and couldn't find any in the can. One alternate for škrob was kukuruzno brašno. So I went to the store, inspected the baking aisles closely, and no škrob. But Huzzah! There was kukuruzno brašno, which translates literally into corn flour. On the same aisle they had polenta and cornmeal, though (Croatians love their corn), so I figured that kukuruzno brašno must actually be different from those things. When I got it home, it was yellowish, which did not seem right, but hey, americans overprocess and overrefine everything, so I tested some in water, and it thickened into a kind of paste, so I figured it does work as a thickener, but I had used too much.
When I made the stir-fry, though, it wouldn't thicken. So I mixed a bit more of the brašno in a little cold water and added it. I did that twice. No dice. Evidently kukuruzno brašno can be used for making a grit-like paste, but not to thicken stir-fry sauce. Oh well, live and learn. There's got to be some store in this town that has škrob.
But tonight I'm going to just buy a jar of pasta sauce. Which, incidentally, is called ˝Salsa˝ here.
Monday
Beware of old men riding bikes!
Today is such a beautiful day that I decided to walk to Kristian's job at lunchtime so we could have coffee. There's this nice wide sidewalk, and, like a good American, I was keeping to the right-hand side when some old guy on a bike rode by, turned his head and gave me a death look, and said something grouchily to me.
Unfortunately, there's no chance my Croatian is good enough for me to understand what a Croatian-speaker says as he rides by me on a bike with his head half-turned and lunchtime traffic going by. So, over coffee, I asked Kristian about the situation.
He said, "You were probably walking in the bike lane."
I said, "Bike lane?"
The sidewalk IS divided into lanes with a solid yellow line between them. Without even considering what that might mean in Croatia, I just automatically behaved as though the sidewalk was a two-way street and you should walk on the right-hand lane.
Incidentally, here two-way streets have solid WHITE lines dividing the lanes. It's funny how the meaning of something as abstract as a painted yellow line would be so deeply ingrained in my understanding of how the world functions that even in a foreign country I didn't really question if it meant something different here. But at the same time, it's hard to be constantly alert to the implications of every little detail of your surroundings. If you think about it, you learn how to function in your home country so gradually as you grow up. You grocery-shop with your mom when you're small, you wash your first load of clothes probably as an adolescent, you take driver's ed as a teenager, you learn how much of a tip to leave at a restaurant somewhere along the way. Then you move to another country, and all at once all of those things are carried out a little bit differently, but you're already an adult, so you're just supposed to know.
The only thing to be done, really, is to be able to laugh at yourself. Frequently.
The only thing to be done, really, is to be able to laugh at yourself. Frequently.
Thursday
The smell of tomato vines is one of the best things ever
One of the big challenges of cooking in Croatia is also one of its biggest virtues: produce is available based on the season. Now, at the end of June, asparagus can't be had for love or money, and strawberries disappeared from the stores about a week and a half ago. Of course, a few things are imported, but you do have to plan your menus around what produce is in season, which for a n00b cook is challenging.
Obviously, though, that means that what you do find in the store is FRESH, not some waxy item picked in a greenhouse three weeks ago. I bought grape tomatoes at the supermarket today, and the vines left that peppery, pungent smell on my hands. When I sliced into the tomatoes a little while ago, I just chomped into one of the slices, and it actually tasted like tomato. I am pretty much a snob about tomatoes--one of my favorite foods--but I can't remember the last time I had a good tomato from a supermarket in the States. Not even from Earth Fare. They're usually pale, bland, and mushy.
So I made this Tomato zucchini salad (http://allrecipes.com/Recipe/Roasted-Tomato-and-Zucchini-Salad/Detail.aspx), but when Kristian got home from work, he wasn't hungry, so I ate it ALL.
Obviously, though, that means that what you do find in the store is FRESH, not some waxy item picked in a greenhouse three weeks ago. I bought grape tomatoes at the supermarket today, and the vines left that peppery, pungent smell on my hands. When I sliced into the tomatoes a little while ago, I just chomped into one of the slices, and it actually tasted like tomato. I am pretty much a snob about tomatoes--one of my favorite foods--but I can't remember the last time I had a good tomato from a supermarket in the States. Not even from Earth Fare. They're usually pale, bland, and mushy.
So I made this Tomato zucchini salad (http://allrecipes.com/Recipe/Roasted-Tomato-and-Zucchini-Salad/Detail.aspx), but when Kristian got home from work, he wasn't hungry, so I ate it ALL.
Monday
Home-cookin'
Last night I was innocently watching a scene from the first season of Mad Men (a show I've become addicted to since I moved here) showing Rachel and a friend dining out, when I was suddenly overcome by an uncontrollable desire for something that is entirely beyond my reach:
.jpg)
Sweet 'n sour shrimp (I think that picture is actually chicken, but it really doesn't matter).
Look at that glossy shine, those whimsically sliced carrots. Imagine the won-ton soup, the chopsticks, the spring roll, the lemoned-cardboard tang of a fortune cookie. I WANT CHINESE FOOD!!!!!!
There are a few Chinese restaurants in Croatia--although I don't think Varazdin has one--but they're run by Chinese immigrants who for some crazy reason have never heard of a fortune cookie!*** Imagine!!
I doubt Croatian-Chinese food is any more authentic than American-Chinese food, but it is very different: less saucy, different flavors, not deep-fried (at least that's true of the two places I've been). I wonder how much of the difference is simply because of the availability of ingredients and how much stems from what version of "Chinese" cuisine would appeal to the host culture. Or maybe the differences arise from the region of China that the restaurateurs are from. I'd be interested to read something about how a restaurant owner tailors her or his home cuisine to suit the predilections of the host culture. Like most people, I'm aware that the "Italian," "Mexican," and "Chinese" foods that we get in the United States are not what you would get in those countries, but who masterminds those changes, and why? Who invented fortune cookies?
Mostly, however, I just want a plate of steamed rice and sweet 'n sour shrimp.
*** this website assures us that, "Unequivocally not Chinese, the fortune cookie may in fact not even be Chinese American." Nobody knows for sure who invented the little delicacies, though.
.jpg)
Sweet 'n sour shrimp (I think that picture is actually chicken, but it really doesn't matter).
Look at that glossy shine, those whimsically sliced carrots. Imagine the won-ton soup, the chopsticks, the spring roll, the lemoned-cardboard tang of a fortune cookie. I WANT CHINESE FOOD!!!!!!
There are a few Chinese restaurants in Croatia--although I don't think Varazdin has one--but they're run by Chinese immigrants who for some crazy reason have never heard of a fortune cookie!*** Imagine!!
I doubt Croatian-Chinese food is any more authentic than American-Chinese food, but it is very different: less saucy, different flavors, not deep-fried (at least that's true of the two places I've been). I wonder how much of the difference is simply because of the availability of ingredients and how much stems from what version of "Chinese" cuisine would appeal to the host culture. Or maybe the differences arise from the region of China that the restaurateurs are from. I'd be interested to read something about how a restaurant owner tailors her or his home cuisine to suit the predilections of the host culture. Like most people, I'm aware that the "Italian," "Mexican," and "Chinese" foods that we get in the United States are not what you would get in those countries, but who masterminds those changes, and why? Who invented fortune cookies?
Mostly, however, I just want a plate of steamed rice and sweet 'n sour shrimp.
*** this website assures us that, "Unequivocally not Chinese, the fortune cookie may in fact not even be Chinese American." Nobody knows for sure who invented the little delicacies, though.
Summertime, and the living is.....Freezing!
I've always hated cold weather, but there's just something about cold weather in Croatia....it seems appropriate. Today is June 21st, and the high temperature is 57 F. For the past three or four days, it's been windy, rainy, and in the 50's. Of course, for about ten days before that it was around 90 without a cloud in the sky.
This isn't a fluke, either: last year when I left Croatia on August 4th, it was raining and I had to wear a fleece jacket. Last June, when First Baptist's youth group came here, I had planned for us to spend a charming sunny afternoon wandering around Varazdin's town center eating ice cream, shopping, looking at the castle, etc. I was such a n00b. It rained, and it was cold. Instead of having a delightful outing soaking up the Old World surroundings, those poor kids soaked up cold rain water. We went to McDonald's for consolation.
You would think I'd be miserable in these temperatures, but I don't really mind that much. Of course, in Texas, it was pretty much hot for nine months. You didn't really have seasons, and even at Christmastime my fireside laziness ran the risk of being interrupted by 80-degree days. Here, though, we have four seasons, and even summer has some weeks of relief. Having one or two weeks a month with cold rain really makes the hot sunshine a pleasure instead of the long, protracted unpleasantness it is in the South.
This isn't a fluke, either: last year when I left Croatia on August 4th, it was raining and I had to wear a fleece jacket. Last June, when First Baptist's youth group came here, I had planned for us to spend a charming sunny afternoon wandering around Varazdin's town center eating ice cream, shopping, looking at the castle, etc. I was such a n00b. It rained, and it was cold. Instead of having a delightful outing soaking up the Old World surroundings, those poor kids soaked up cold rain water. We went to McDonald's for consolation.
You would think I'd be miserable in these temperatures, but I don't really mind that much. Of course, in Texas, it was pretty much hot for nine months. You didn't really have seasons, and even at Christmastime my fireside laziness ran the risk of being interrupted by 80-degree days. Here, though, we have four seasons, and even summer has some weeks of relief. Having one or two weeks a month with cold rain really makes the hot sunshine a pleasure instead of the long, protracted unpleasantness it is in the South.
Friday
The Ballad of Kristian and Elaine
Today we went and registered for our official wedding! I say "official" because, in Croatia, a foreigner cannot be legally married in a church; the couple must go to the county seat, which in Varaždinis this violently pink Baroque palace. (I got this picture from http://www.twip.org/image-europe-croatia-varazdin-downtown-zgrada-zupanije-en-17321-16260.html, where there are some really nice pictures of Varaždin's wonderful town center). So, we will have the official wedding in the Pink Palace, and then, on August 23rd, the church (or possibly beach) wedding on the island.
For someone who fears official paperwork (like me), an international marriage looms in the imagination like a nightmare of Boschian proportions. The paper trail began in Knoxville, where I got a criminal history report (JUST so you know, there's nothing on it!! :D) that it turns out I don't actually need to get married but I WILL need for my visa. Then Austin, where I had to get a new copy of my birth certificate from the state records office (on 44th street or something) and then get an apostille on that document at the Texas Secretary of State downtown. And I admit without shame that I shed an expatriate tear as I walked past our capitol building flying the Lone Star!
The fun paper was the one I had to get at the American Embassy, though. This was one of those cases when not having a car WAS a bit inconvenient. I took the early train to Zagreb, which is a two-hour trip but put me there early enough to do a little strolling around and window shopping. Then I boarded the bus to the embassy and asked the driver in halting Croatian (but correct, consarn it!) which stop I needed, and he answered, "Do you want to know in English or Croatian?" Turns out he used to live in Canada, singing in a klapa group--traditional Dalmatian music, Of which I THINK this is an example: . He even met his Croatian wife in Canada: they grew up ten minutes apart but had to go to another continent to meet....which just goes to show that there are a lot of crazy "how we met" stories out there.
So anyway, I got to the embassy, signed a paper saying I was single, got it notarized....and discovered that I had to register that paper at the Croatian Ministry of Foreign affairs, located at a square in the center of Zagreb, but no one really knew where that square was! So I boarded the bus, rode back to the center, phoned the Ministry, discovered they closed at three, hung up and checked the time on my phone: 2:30!!!!! I rushed out of the station, hailed a taxi, was told by the taxi driver that HE didn't know where that square is, got another taxi.....and got there just in time (the kind people at the ministry stayed 15 minutes late to finish registering me). It's interesting: in Croatia you pay for official documents by buying a certain kind of stamp (looks like a postage stamp) at a newspaper kiosk.
So, papers in order.....except that my birth certificate is obviously in English, so we went to the official county translator's office. $200!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! That really hurt! Then we had to schedule a time with the interpretor to come to the marriage office when we register ($30 an hour for her). Croatia has a law that when a foreigner is married an official state interpreter must be present for everything to be sure that the foreigner knows exactly what's happening (or, more likely, in the event of any later breakup of the marriage, to prevent the foreigner from trying to claim that s/he didn't understand what s/he was doing). Anyway, we got to state that we were getting married voluntarily and that we are not related (that got a good laugh from everyone in the office).
All in all, the whole thing was pretty painless, except for the bleeding of kuna and the panicky few minutes in Zagreb. You never know in Croatia if you're going to show up and need "one more paper," but happily this time everything was in order. So, our official wedding is scheduled for July 17th (a Saturday, for which we must pay a weekend wage to the interpreter: $60 an hour!!!)
Kristian's mom thinks there's something wrong with me for not getting excited about the ceremonies. ^_^ For me, the real, public, before-God commitment to Kristian really happened when I said goodbye to my friends and family and boarded a plane in Austin.
Thursday
Home Sweet Fourth-floor Walk-up
Any kind of transatlantic comparison is complicated. I've been asked a number of times how the cost of living in Croatia compares to the U.S., and I can't think of a good way to answer that question because any estimate of "the cost of living" contains some hidden assumptions about what you need to live. Living in the U. S., an average middle-class person has certain expectations: you have a spacious home, you own your own furniture, you own one car per adult and drive everywhere, you eat out frequently, you have an Ipod, an Iphone, a flatscreen TV, etc etc. Your average middle-class Croatian can't afford to live like that. The same product here usually costs much more than in the US: a tube of maybelleine mascara is about $20; a bottle of ReNu contact solution is almost that much; a base-model Mazda 3 starts out at about $23,000.
However, in Croatia it is much easier to live comfortably on less. We don't own a car,and although that is occasionally inconvenient, it isn't a hardship. Also, housing is significantly cheaper. My apartment costs 1200 kn a month, which, according to today's exchange rate, is $205. What would you get for that kind of rent in the States? In most places, nothing! My first apartment more than ten years ago cost $250 a month, and it was an unfurnished efficiency in the ghetto (a dead body was found in the street in front of my apartment while I was living there) in very-inexpensive Lubbock, Texas. So what does $205 a months get you in Croatia?
The apartment is in a large, square externally-charmless communist-era building, of which there are MANY in my neighborhood, with more going up all the time. I took these pictures from my balcony:
To my American eyes, this looks at first glance a bit like a slum. But this is a respectable part of town near a number of parks where hoards of children play unsupervised. All kinds of people live here: students, families, elderly couples. The apartment is fully-furnished, and it's a ten-minute walk to the baroque town center, on the tentative list to become a UNESCO World Heritage site. There's a balcony and a washing machine. It has an air conditioner, which is not the norm in Croatia. Right in front of the building are recycling bins for paper, plastic, and glass, and both the balcony and bathroom have places to hang clothes to dry, so I'm living quite a bit greener. I can walk to the grocery story in five minutes, Kristian's job in seven or eight minutes, and the castle or cathedral in ten.
All that I am adjusting to pretty quickly: the weather's cool; I remember to avoid the corner on the table; I double-check that I have everything BEFORE running down the stairs. Seriously. Two of my neighbors here on the 4th floor are elderly ladies. They walk up and down those same stairs.
But the bathroom is the deal-breaker for me. I'm going to just have to let all my frustration out, so bear with me: there's no sink in the bathroom, which of course means that the only sink is in the kitchen. The bathroom is TINY, with the toilet wedged in between the washer and a little "table" consisting of a board sitting on the boiler's gas tank. I'm telling you, I do not have child-bearing hips, but when I sit down on that toilet one hip or the other bumps the washing machine or knocks the board off the "table." And that toilet has no flushing power, and by that I mean you're going to see even toilet paper for a second or third flush.
But the bathroom is the deal-breaker for me. I'm going to just have to let all my frustration out, so bear with me: there's no sink in the bathroom, which of course means that the only sink is in the kitchen. The bathroom is TINY, with the toilet wedged in between the washer and a little "table" consisting of a board sitting on the boiler's gas tank. I'm telling you, I do not have child-bearing hips, but when I sit down on that toilet one hip or the other bumps the washing machine or knocks the board off the "table." And that toilet has no flushing power, and by that I mean you're going to see even toilet paper for a second or third flush.
I'm SLOWLY getting used to the "shower." It's a tiny, cramped tub ( maybe 2.5 feet long) with a little step that you're supposed to sit on. The removable "shower" head is affixed about thigh-high if you're standing, but the mounting rotates against the wall, so if you leave the shower head attached instead of holding it in your hand, it will sooner or later twist around and squirt water off in some random direction. Imagine washing long, thick hair while you either hold the shower head in one hand or try and set it somewhere where the water won't squirt out of that tiny tub. Plus, the boiler is hanging up at one end of the tub, so, if you stand and shower, your face is three inches from it.
I don't hate this apartment (except for the bathroom). Except for the bathroom woes, it's comfortable, and the cheapness and "greenness" of the lifestyle make up for a lot. And yet, I'm getting out of this kind of apartment as soon as we get married in favor of something newer and more spacious. Thanks to Kristian's job (he's a web-designer for a firm and does freelance work), and my blessed American salary (I earn what a lawyer or doctor makes here), we have a lot of choices. However, if we both earned average Croatian salaries (which we very well might at some point), we would have to make do with this kind of apartment. Well, I would have to make do....he doesn't have the same objections I do to this place. He will object to spending money on rent that could be used to purchase Iphones and a $1000 camera, things that seem like extravagances to me but seem to him to be luxuries on par with spending 2200 Kn every month on rent when you could spend 1200.
Anyway, in this apartment I'd survive and be happy, and I'd learn that a person doesn't HAVE to have a living space that is everything she dreams. So much of what we think we NEED to live is actually a luxury, a luxury that we've come to believe is a necessity because we've almost always had access to it.
Anyway, in this apartment I'd survive and be happy, and I'd learn that a person doesn't HAVE to have a living space that is everything she dreams. So much of what we think we NEED to live is actually a luxury, a luxury that we've come to believe is a necessity because we've almost always had access to it.
Moralizing aside, since we can afford options--for now--I'm shopping for another place.
Friday
YOU'RE the foreigner now!
As you probably know if you're reading this blog, I recently moved to a smallish city in Northern Croatia called Varaždin. Here it is, in all its Central-European glory:
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Settling in to a new country is a challenge. Skills you take for granted--being able to read labels in the grocery store, knowing the procedure for getting your internet turned on, understanding the symbols on the buttons on the washing machine--are totally defamiliarized, which makes every day an adventure in.....well, dailiness! There are times when it's an exhilarating victory to successfully buy a loaf of bread, and times when I feel like a helpless child who can't even figure out how to ask which bus stops at the American Embassy. Don't get me wrong, my affianced is wonderful: he's worth any hardship associated with moving, and he helps me with things I can't handle on my own. But he does have a job, and even if he did have time to assist me with every little thing.....how lame would that be? I've got to learn to stand on my own two feet, and that means practicing my Croatian, using strange appliances, and going out on the town alone.
Something especially defamiliarizing happened the other day. In fact, something downright shocking. I was walking to meet Kristian for lunch, and I stopped at the street corner to wait for the light to change. Two women and a man were standing nearby, chatting quietly. It suddenly occurred to me that, for the first time in nearly two weeks, I understood every word a bystander was saying. I said, joyfully, "Yall are american!"
Right after I greeted my compatriots is when the really astonishing thing happened: the three americans weren't surprised to be greeted by a Texan on a street in the non-touristy part of what used to be Yugoslavia. They just kinda said, "Yeah." No follow-up question. No evidence in their expressions that they hadn't been greeted by five random americans that day.
As it turns out, they were there on a mission trip, but although I asked plenty of questions while we were crossing the street, when we reached the other side, they didn't seem interested in prolonging our acquaintance, so we went our separate ways. Maybe they were in a hurry, or jet-lagged. Obviously they aren't suffering from the same shortage of English-speaking friends as I am.
But the difference that stands out the most to me, after a few days of thinking about it, is that they didn't feel foreign; otherwise, wouldn't they have been surprised to meet a Texan where no Texan usually is? Had there been a Texan working at the bakery that morning? At the currency exchange office? Texans among the children they came here to teach? Had they not yet realized that most of the people around them aren't American?
I'm not sure that an American on a brief trip to another country ever feels foreign. I don't think I did. In my memories of past short-term trips--"mission" or otherwise--to Mexico, Ireland, Croatia before I had ever lived here, I seem to remember walking around within a pleasant sphere of Americanness at all times. I don't know how long I lived in Croatia the first time before the sense of my own foreignness really burst my bubble, but it was a few months.
But you know what, irritating, terrifying, or lonely as it sometimes is, I've come to the conclusion that feeling foreign is good for you. It changes you, as I think, for the better. I'm not sure yet how to elaborate on exactly what that feeling of foreignness is, but I'll leave that up to future posts.
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