Dubrovnik

May 14, 2005-Typical Story
(photos:Slavonian parade,
Dinner hosts,
New dances)

As group tours go, this is a great bunch of people. All forty are punctual, polite, and there is not a loudmouth or complainer.

Our city guide for Dubrovnik, Lydia, was small of stature and voice. She was competing against guides for the few thousand visitors from cruise ships that docked today. She managed to get her information across one way or another. I frequently had to ask others to repeat for me so I could take notes for the emails.

She told us that Dubrovnik has a population of 24,000 with 2,000 living in the old city. The main economy is tourism. There are three distinct districts: old city, port, and business. Property goes for about $6,000 per square meter or ten square feet. She said that the Irish were buying up the condos.

By now you know the drill. Greeks settled 132 mile away from here. Romans followed and called it Epidaurus. Romans were attacked by Slavs and Croats who moved the site of the town to Dubrovnik in 1272. They immediately built city walls that were completed by the 13th century. They had an extensive fleet and traded in salt, which they produced from the saltpans in the shallow waters of the Adriatic. As a republic whose churches were mostly Franciscan, Jesuits, favorites of the pope, were invited in by the rector. In gratitude the pope declared Dubrovnik off-limits from attack by other Catholic countries. After an earthquake in 1667 it took 100 years before the city was rebuilt. Instead of vertical walls, the new ones were sloped to more easily repel weapons using new technology: cannon balls and bullets. Most of what’s visible today is 18th century Baroque. The golden age of the independent republic of Dubrovnik lasted 200 years. It came to a close in 1806 with the arrival of Napoleon. Although his presence is still felt, his aqueducts weren’t as substantial as the Romans. None exist today. The Hapsburgs came on the scene and kept everyone in line until WWI.

UNESCO Preservation

I was awed by the state of preservation of this UNESCO World Heritage site. It seemed untouched by time and war. I did notice that its builders did have to use mortar to secure the walls, but they withstood mortar attacks in 1995. When we were told that after each disaster the site was rebuilt it wasn’t so impressive anymore.

It was smaller than I expected as we crossed the drawbridge over the moat in which orange trees now grow, entered the walls, and walked through the Pile Gate. The gate used to be locked at night and the key delivered to the palace of the rector. The original city had a hospital, covered sewers, orphanage, and a pharmacy. Mothers brought babies to the orphanage at night and anonymously put them in a turn-style so the nuns could take them in. Orphans were cared for until age six when they were given to masters as servants. The pharmacy is still operating in the same spot in the monastery.

The Rector's Palace was rebuilt after sustaining damage in the 1979 earthquake. The ground floor housed a prison and the upper floor held the residence and offices. Rectors were elected monthly by the senate and served only a month. They moved into the palace and weren’t permitted to leave the building during their term. Their families didn’t join them. Diplomacy was dicey in those days. Lydia told us that two diplomats were assigned to Istanbul. When their time was served two more were sent. Those in Istanbul weren’t allowed to leave until their replacements came. One time the replacements were late and the diplomats in place were beheaded by order of the sultan.

The minute David entered the old city he said he felt as if he was at Disney World: Epcot to be specific. There were hoards of people blindly following guides who carried numbers or umbrellas. He said he fully expected a parade at noon. It came at 11:00 when dancers and singers in Slavonian native dress marched to the square for some festivities.

We were directed to the synagogue so we could see it during free time. There are forty-five Jews left in Dubrovnik. Services are only held when the rabbi comes from Zagreb. Jews arrived in the 15th century motivated by Spain and the Inquisition. We sat in the oldest Sephardic synagogue that has been in continuous use and said a spontaneous sh’heceyanu with other Jewish tourists. The museum contained several Torah scrolls. One was from 13th century Spain brought during the Inquisition. Although accepted as full citizens when they came, by 1540, Jews were ordered to move into a small area and wear badges that distinguished them from Christians. Hitler didn’t have an original thought. But during WWII the Jews of Dubrovnik gave their treasures to a few Christian families for safekeeping. Those cherished pieces eventually returned to the Jewish community. They were taken to the U.S. for exhibit by a member of the Jewish community who decided to stay there with them. It took ten years and lots of lawsuits to get them back. We ate pizza, shopped, and were unconcerned that we missed our tour bus to the hotel. We caught a city bus and it was an easy 15-minute ride back.

Hospitality

Dinner was home hospitality. Our tour bus of forty people drove forty minutes and descended on the village of Gromaca where four homes were open to us for dinner. The village numbers one hundred thirty and most are related. That’s the condensed version. What actually happened was that our bus had to traverse a single-lane winding uphill road and weave around, between, and practically over vehicles in our way. At one point we had to back down a portion of the hill so a semi could back into a vacant lot and we could proceed.

Our hosts lived in a newer house surrounded by very old outbuildings, farmland and orchards. They host dinners for Grand Circle twice a week. We were greeted with grappa and dried figs. Everything we ate was grown and made at their home. We visited the smokehouse where ham was curing and the winery. Dinner started with proscuitto, two kinds of homemade cheese, and pickled vegetables. Carafes of wine and baskets of bread were plentiful and accompanied our meal of grilled pork, sausage, and chicken. Dessert was apple strudel. Remember, this was all homegrown including the pigs and chickens that gave their lives for us.

The 18-year-old daughter was our translator. She told us she was graduating from high school in Dubrovnik then going to university for four years to become an elementary teacher. She wants to return to the area to teach. We all had a good laugh when she helped us pronounce “prijestolonasljednica” the word Viki will offer a reward for if said correctly. Then we told her about “antidisestablishmentarianism.”

She told us that during the war most of her village was shelled. She was only five when she and her mother fled to Istria and stayed in one of the hotels open to refugees. Her father fought in the Croatian army as a partisan. Serbs and Montenegrins occupied their home while they were gone and burned it before they left. Others in the village put out the flames, but her grandfather was devastated when he returned and saw the damage done to the house he built. He didn’t get out of bed for years and never recognized anyone in the family again. She was philosophical and said that now they have an even better house.

After dinner we went to another house where we were treated to demonstrations of local dances accompanied by music played on an old fiddle-like instrument. We made music of our own as we rolled down the hills toward the hotel. I think Viki wanted to take our minds off the treacherous road so she asked us to sing songs from our country. We started with America, went to Dixie, and ended with mildly sophomoric dirty bar ditties. By the time we entered the lobby of the hotel we were doing the chicken dance, electric slide, and Macarena.

Tomorrow we have a long day trip to Montenegro. I’m not sure they have stopped fighting there.

Toby