Zagreb

The real journey begins in Zagreb. With a population around 800,000, Zagreb is both the capital of Croatia and its largest city. Because of my appalling level of ignorance, I had no idea what to expect, but I admit that it was not the vibrant, modern city that met me on the first afternoon. Our hotel was located in the city center, which made observing its vitality even easier. It is a beautiful city, a product of several centuries of history that is hard to capture here. As with many European cities, the mixture of modern conveniences and historical buildings provide an interesting juxtaposition. Clearly, Zagreb is a city that enjoys a rich heritage while it still makes room for its future.

City Center -- Looks fairly empty here, but I promise, there were people everywhere!

The flurry of activity was a bit overwhelming. It was a bit disconcerting to watch as cars, trams, bikes, and pedestrians use the same paths, and it took a while to adjust to walking around as if I knew what I was doing. I did my best approximation of the locals and adopted a state of (seeming) oblivion to the very real risk of getting mowed down and just started walking. 

King Tomislav -- first king of Croatia

I have found that the best way to overcome nerves in a situation like this is to immerse oneself in exploration. Armed with the information given provided by Davor on our drive into the city, I struck out on my own. The cathedral was my first destination, partially because it was impossible to miss, and partially because I have a strange obsession with churches.  Currently, the cathedral is being restored, each stone being meticulously removed, cleaned, and replaced. While scaffolding mars the exterior, the beauty inside remains untouched.

Inside the Cathedral of the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary (yes, that is its official name)

From the cathedral, I began following the signs for other tourist destinations. I believe that I managed to hit all the major stops on my first trek about town (at least saw the exteriors--many of the museums were closed because it was Monday), including several more churches and a few other notable sites. (I made sure to walk in circles several times to ensure I didn't miss anything...or because I tend to get a bit turned around at times. I am not sure.)

For all the activity swirling around me, I noticed there was ample opportunity to slow down and enjoy life, too. The streets were lined with tables, where several people had stopped to chat over a cup of kava (coffee) at the outdoor cafes. I passed several people ranging from the very young to the very old with ice cream cones in hand. And at the parks, I witnessed friends laughing, families playing, and lovers walking hand in hand. It all struck me as amazing, sweet, and yet familiar. The universal attraction of being outdoors on a lovely day in the presence of those you love is something we all can appreciate and enjoy. It was these green spaces to which I felt drawn, and so, in spite of the other attractions, I spent my time watching others enjoying life. And as I watched (not as a voyeur, I promise! Just a curious observer), I realized that I had been missing this level enjoyment in my own life as of late. Too much time focused on work, family, obligations, and the like had clouded my vision so much that it took over 20 hours of travel time to find something to wake me from the sleepwalking of the past several months.

The ideal summer afternoon

The adventures that followed these first couple of days in Zagreb were a welcome reminder that I can be someone more than the narrowly defined roles I find myself inhabiting every day in the 'real' world--roles I recognize I tend to impose on myself, but ones that others have come to rely on as well. I can be someone who explores, challenges, learns, teaches, trusts, shares, and, most importantly, laughs.

In the Dirt

I got to play in the mud today, and it felt great. Having tackled the windows last weekend (I washed over twenty  in a little under two hours! Hurray for productivity), I was looking for another task to help out with the spring cleaning. Something that required little thought but plenty of activity. That is how I found myself crawling on the ground this morning, pulling up this pervasive ground cover that will not die. Its infinite tendrils had long since overtaken the garden bed where my grandma has a mix of flowers and ornamental shrubs, and I, in my naive hubris, sought to conquer it once and for all. Um, yeah, complete domination is probably still a couple mornings away, but I made great progress, I promise!

While I was tackling this ungainly foe, I couldn't help but wonder why it is I enjoyed working in the dirt. Usually, most people tend to shy away from getting their hands caked in mud, the legs of their pants stained with grass. On most days, I am one of them. Yet, today, as I was kneeling down, following the vines to their roots, freeing them from the grip of the soft earth, I relished the sensation of working the soil in my hands, not caring that my hands were caked in gray by the time I had finished. I appreciated the fact that I could do something so physical, so active without hesitance or difficulty. And not to get to esoteric or anything, but it really felt like this is what my body is made to do.

So often, in our world of cars and computers, it is easy to forget that in many ways, our bodies were designed to be active. I do my best to remain so, but I admit that sometimes it is so much easier to stay glued to my chair at night than to get up and do anything that requires movement. While our minds have come up with so many brilliant ideas to make our lives easier, the convenience of these inventions leaves something to be desired. I am not giving up my computer, my car, or my indoor plumbing just yet. But I am trying to be more aware of what goes into what I consume, and I would like to be more active in the creation process. As I fought the vines, I decided that this is something I would like to do more often (the gardening part of it all that is). In that vein, I hope to cultivate a small part of the yard and ready it to plant some seeds to grow a few of my favorite vegetables. This is something we did every year growing up, and I miss going out and searching for that night's side dish. Let's hope this year, I will be successful enough to do the same.

When I finally retreated for the day, I stood back a moment to see what I had been able to do. Where there was once a group of flowers choked by an alien being, now they stood out free to grow and breathe to their fullest ability. (Well, the ones that survived the removal process...I try to be careful, but graceful and delicate are not exactly my strengths...) Oftentimes, I feel as if much of what I do at work disappears into an abyss, and it is something I truly struggle with. I like to see results. And at least with this, I was able to.  Sure, I came out a little worse for wear, but what are a few scratches on the arms, sticks in the hair, and errant streaks of mud when you can feel as if you spent a few hours doing something that made a difference? Perhaps tomorrow, I will once again take up my clippers and forge ahead with the next round.