Guess what?
There's this giant instrument that is played at weddings that looks sort of like a contrabass but is played like a humoungous guitar.
So, adventures are a-plenty. Here are a few:
I went to a Croatian wedding and ate my weight in gnocchi and some other stuff too, then danced for about 5 hours to songs ranging from "We are Family" (O hello, Sister Sledge) to traditional Croatian folklora to the Serbian version called cajke. If you ask me, it sounds like the baby of salsa music and a Bollywood hit, so obviously SO fun to dance to. Most Croatians agree, but you will never find one who admits it because apparently that labels you as a hick. Interesting. Anyway, the wedding was a great time. My host dad's sister kissed me about 18 times before inviting me to come stay with her and proclaiming that I have "hair like a fairytale." Needless to say, I like her a lot. Also, I feel slightly ashamed of the fact that I was the first one to crap out on my heels and go for flats by about 5 hours. Ouch.
My KUD (dancing doodad) had a competition in a nearby town where we placed second. *Applause*. Thank you, thank you. I didn't actually dance, I just watched from backstage because I didn't join in time to learn all the choreography or get a costume. A word on the costumes: getting into them is rather trying. I sat sipping orange juice and laughing hysterically as the girls tied on something like 4 skirts and pulled them so tight they couldn't breathe, and slipped into these adorable jackets. When I asked them if they could raise their arms at all in the jackets there was a resounding NO. Meanwhile, the boys were putting on pants, the tops of which are shaped kind of like flannel diapers (extra poofy) and wrapping themselves like mummies in embroidered cummerbunds. It was kind of like watching an 18th century woman put on a corset because they had to redo it over and over; it never got tight enough to give them the waist they wanted. I had bobby-pin duty. By the way, my KUD desperately need more boys because at this point we only have 3 male dancers and the musicians have to fill in. Someone had the idea of offering free beer to boys who show up to practice, but that plan had a few shortcomings. I can't imagine why all the boys around aren't flocking to wear the flannel diaper pants and pretty cummerbunds. I would.
Guess what?
I sat next to Mr. Croatia 2013 on a bus and blushed a lot whenever I peeked at him out of the corner of my eye.
The Croatian word for the diaphragm muscle is "ošit." The letter š makes a "sh" sound. (This is where I chortled.)
By the way: these songs have been absolutely stuck in my head all week because I hear them everywhere I go:
First, What Does the Fox Say by Ylvis http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jofNR_WkoCE. If you haven't heard it yet, you have no excuse now. Plus it was on Ellen.
Second, Zorica by Mejaši http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_9XzTzB2b4Q. Slightly better when you don't understand the lyrics.
Third, Kula od Stakla by Seyo Keydura http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AzPveIIqoE0. This is cajke. Maybe you'll agree with me about the salsa/Bollywood tone.
I feel like I should add a new section called "Funny/Occasionally Inappropriate Misunderstandings Due to a Language Barrier." Here are a few:
1. "stroke" turned into "brain fart"
2. "seeds" turned into "semen"
I feel like an American messiah of stupid things kids do: I taught my classmates to say "Uh oh Spaghetti-O's" and the "Happy llama sad llama" hand gesture thing. Woohoo.
And to close, a quote from the great grandmother of my friend from school which made me laugh.
"Let's breakfast some liquor"
--Lana's Great Grandma (who lived to be 94 apparently)
If you are interested in Croatian grandmas or various other things about the country from a rather more talented writer than me, I highly recommend this blog http://zablogreb.likecroatia.hr/. It's kind of my go-to Croatia encyclopedia.
Many pictures to come soon, hope this brightened your day!.
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