Café Americano

                    

It's an art form and I realize that it is....but it still makes ordering or making your own cup of coffee very difficult. Like most Americans you reach for a mug or the waitress sets down a mug and coffee is poured into it. Cream, sugar and you are done.

                            

That's far too easy for Europeans. There are countless descriptions of the exact type of coffee....kinda like going to Starbucks and trying to figure out what "Vente" and "Grande" have to do with small, medium or large. Anyway, I stopped at a cafe. It was situated so close to the Tram line that the "whoosh" of the tram could knock you over if you weren't prepared. Nevertheless...it was early, no one seemed to be waiting on anyone but the door was open. I walked to the counter and ordered.

The waiter seemed mortally offended that I had come in and not just set at a table and wait on him to wait on me. I apologized told him that I was American and we're used getting coffee quickly. He was unimpressed.

I ordered cafe Americano....supposedly espresso with added water. Sometimes it is...sometimes not. Sometimes it has milk...sometimes not. Asking for cream makes European waiters think that we are primma donnas....or that we think we're royalty. There doesn't seem to be anything like powered whitener....so I added sugar and braced for the trams. It's so much easier at Waffle House. 

But this is so civilized.

             

I like to walk through churches, cathedrals, any type of worship space. Usually this is not a challenge....people aren't exactly breaking down the doors of churches in Europe. I may have to alter that notion. 

I went into the cathedral the other night at 5 pm and a hundred people were there for mass. I thought I had missed a High Holy Day. So last night I was there at 7:30 pm and over a hundred were there for mass again! Communion, smoke, intonations and responsive readings. The whole nine yards (excuse the military reference).

Croatia has got it going on! Or at least the faithful in the historic district seem to be quite church oriented.

            

I was in the cathedral (above) at 8:30 am recently ....Cathedral of the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin. (I try to imagine the letterhead on their stationary.)

About 50 or so were there praying the rosary or just sitting. I took a pew and sat and watched the sun light up the vast cathedral through the stained glass windows. I sat for a half hour. One thing I thought curious and something I had never seen in a cathedral...people were going up past the altar and behind it. I kept watching, half expecting a deacon, priest or nun to rush down the aisle and leap at the offender screaming..."Nooooooo"....sort of in slow motion.

But no one did. I assume the priests were too busy trying to figure out what coffee to order and the nuns, of whom there were numerous present, seemed lost in their rosaries.

After 30 minutes I decided I could do the same and I did. There was a the coffin or remains or statuary in death-pose behind the altar. I assume it was a previous priest who was and is revered. Many lit candles or sat on special pews for a moment of silence.

Suddenly the Sacristy door opened and in walked three priests...and I was behind the altar.

Busted.

                 

But nobody seemed to mind. I just walked my most "man of the cloth who is moving to another part of the worship area and looking important - walk" and slipped into a pew near the action.

As the priest began....the cell phone of one of the faithful went off. The ringtone was an old Grand Funk Railroad song....and frankly they never sounded better. The cathedral enhanced Mark Farner's voice. Couldn't figure out why a 70 year old Croatian woman at mass would have such a ringtone but at least I could understand one thing in the liturgy.

They spoke in Croation and Latin, both of which are a bit rusty for me. I stood when the the faithful stood. I sat when they sat. I stayed silent when they responded. I stayed put when communion was served...even though my spiritual ancestor Martin Luther would insist I was worthy.

                              

First coffee....then communion.

Must it be so complicated?

   

                      

Time for more churches. St. Marks...(above)....is a gem. It sits in another part of the city which included a climb up and up through the streets and 90 degree heat. But it was worth it. The roof alone is worth the walk. Can you imagine the church council discussions on financing a re-roofing job for this one?

                    

Here's another first. I walked in the door and a young priest (?)...trainee (?)....anyway he was wearing a robe...sat by a collection plate indicating donations for the church. He seemed legit and was careful to check out his Facebook page on his cell phone when not scowling at tourists. I paid up....I had seen the roof from the outside....they needed it.

But the young man was friendly and said I could snap photos...I imagine I was the largest contributor all day....and I promised "no flash" but he didn't care. I took a seat on the side and decompressed from the heat.

Suddenly one tourist carrying a two liter bottle of water ventured to the altar and past it. I thought, "is there another body of a deceased priest back there too?"

I guess not....the young man in a robe sprang from the door and advised the offender to not go into the holy of holies. His girlfriend, who was dressed more for a day at the beach rather than a day in the church, punched him as if to say, "I told you so!"

                       

I'll make a few general assumptions about Croatians...or at least the folks in Zageb....or perhaps the folks in the historic area of Zagreb. They like their church services. They like their cafe culture. I have never seen so many cafes, restaurants and bars per square foot of city space. All have outdoor seating. All are crowded. All are quite wonderful.

                      

I saw several farmer's markets. They had a special food and drink festival (heavy emphasis on the latter) at which they had traditional singers and some modern trios doing some great renditions of 70's rock songs (though I noted a distinct lack of Grand Funk Railroad hits).

                  

I'm always trying to imagine places in the world where I would go and live...and stay there. I would put Zagreb in the mix. I doubt I'll ever return, but I like the place.

                        

Peace,  Bob