“The Bitter War” – end of January 2004

“The Bitter War” – end of January 2004

After leaving Vukovar behind in a white cloud of fog and snow, we continued on towards Serbia. We stopped not far from the border, where we spent the evening in the company of Ivka, her 17-year old son Ante, her 24-year old daughter Josipa, her sister Paula, and her nephew Nikola. The family was friendly, eager to talk. We had more of the omnipresent Croatian saucisse and found out that every family in this part of the country makes their own.

We watched a wedding video of the eldest son’s marriage last year to Valentina. It was interesting in the way the marriages differ from those we are used to at home. The bride and groom each have separate celebrations starting at noon. Then, at 3:00, the groom makes his way to the bride and asks her hand in marriage. If she consents, the two parties combine and go to the church together, where the ceremony lasts for an hour and the bride and groom exchange wedding vows and rings, then sign a legal contract. Around 6:00 PM, the party starts with guests from both the bride and groom’s sides. It continues until about 6:00 AM the following morning. There are Croatian flags and dances at the wedding, and the whole affair is very patriotic (especially coming as it did not long after the war with Serbia). The entire town is invited, and family members and neighbors help with making food starting the week before the wedding. It is not uncommon to have upwards of 700 or 1000 guests at a wedding.

After watching the wedding cassette, Josipa took us upstairs to her room, where she engaged us in a long discussion on the war. Her family, like every family in the region, had their own story. Like Stevo and Edita’s family, her family had been forced from their home for many years. No one had really believed the war would happen. The family had fled the day before the soldiers arrived, with the exception of the father and the eldest son, then a 14-year old boy. When the army arrived, the father was imprisoned for a period of four months, during which time he suffered severed head injuries, and for which he is still under medication. The grandfather, who lived in the same town, fled with the son and rejoined the rest of the family. It is the first memory of Ante, who was at the time a four-year old boy. The children spent their childhood as refugees in fear. One cousin is missing, another lost a limb.

It is obvious that the recent war is still very much on their minds, day in and day out. Josipa says that people are still afraid of another Serbian aggression, of another war starting. Milosevic is up for re-election in Serbia, and tensions run high in the operating room at the hospital where she works, where Serbian and Croatian doctors and nurses work side by side. Croats and Serbs live in different neighborhoods, go to different schools, work in different businesses, and frequent different restaurants, bars, and clubs. According to Josipa, the way to tell the difference between Croats and Serbs is in their dress: Serbs wear mini-skirts, high heels, make-up and long nails, and their men wear sports clothing but not sneakers; Croats wear blue jeans.

The decoration on the kitchen wall of Ivka’s house seemed symbolic of the values of the young Croatian nation: a framed photo of the country’s first President, Dr. Franjo Tudjman; a symbol of the nation; a cross; and a photo of Ivka’s eldest son Thomasina with the Pope (he was a bodyguard for the Pope during his visit to Croatia). Every object was religious or patriotic in nature.

One thing that kept coming up over and over in conversation: Be careful in Serbia!