18 The Table

Sunday is the Lord’s Day. We hopped on the tourist bus at the lobby of Hotel Croatia for a 10-mile air-conditioned ride to Cilipi to attend mass, enjoy a folk dance, and bask in the hospitality of the Bronzan’s 85 year old cousins. Riko Bjelanovic a former math professor at Zagreb University and his wife Marija are David’s second cousins. Each time David and Donna travel to Croatia they spend time with the Bjelaovic’s and usually return with too much grappa (moonshine) to carry on the plane. The Bjelanovic’s live in the 200 year old family home just opposite the square from the Catholic Church. On their property in the square sits an ancient 8-foot round stone table. In the Homeland War, the Church statues were desecrated and just about every building in Cilipi was destroyed save for the Bjelanovic home and their table. The square between their home and the church now serves as a dance floor where each Sunday (in season) local musicians and dancers perform the traditional Folklore Dances before throngs of bussed tourists. Led by the church’s music minister, the live music and dance show lasts about 30 minutes. They end the show by grabbing audience members to dance with them. In our crowd, a batch of Italian women (perhaps) didn’t wait to be asked. They jumped in, grabbed a male dancer and started twirling.

Donna began to introduce me to Marija but before Donna could state my position, her boss, Marija assumed I was Curtis so she embraced me with a two-cheek hug. When Donna quickly clarified that I was not Curtis but her boss, Marija's eyes rolled and threw her arms back dismissively ... it was priceless. I took no offense, Donna and I laughed. Marija was a jewel.

Mass was packed with crowds filling the back foyer and side areas. It was standing room only ... though I did find a seat in the front. It was easy to worship God in this setting. I didn't understand the song lyrics nor would I be able to pronounce them even if I did but the music was familiar. It was a spiritual shot in the arm.

Before and after mass, we dined at the Bjelanovic table. The beautiful spread was complete with fresh cut prosciutto, Swiss cheese, fresh bread, pickles and local wine. Following mass we savored a large slice of delicate pudding cake. On one could refuse a second plate of food for the broken-hearted reply from Marija was always, "Why not?" The eight of us along with Rajko and Luca (a translator friend) filled the room. Marija hovered in the kitchen with her sister.

I enjoyed family chatter, stories of the past, Curtis sharing his wife with Rajko and revealing their “new beginning.” Before we returned to Cavtat, I got a chance to sit side-by-side with Rajko and help him purchase Skype Dollars. It was awesome tutoring an 85 year old man as he nimbly navigated his way around the Internet, pulled out his Visa Platinum, and scored some Skype money for future Internet calls. He even showed off his new headphones complete with boom mic.

Since the tour buses didn’t stay for lunch we needed to secure our own transportation back to Cavtat. The plan was to call a couple of taxis but Rajko’s generous hospitality would have none of it. He whisked away and soon returned in a bright orange 1972 Fiat sedan. The engine whined to a high pitch as he searched for the reverse gear then backed his coach up next to the outdoor table. Luca offered to drive us in two shifts. We climbed in, strapped in, and held on. It was scary. Reaching for 3rd gear, Luca took her hand off the wheel and we filled both sides of the road. We got back safely as did the 2nd wave, though they compared it to Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride.