Zagreb

Okay so here's what I have to say: Zagreb is by far the weirdest city I have ever visited in my 21 years of life. No doubt. And the worst part is? In trying to describe to you why it is so weird, well I just can't put my finger on it. It's like some weird cross between every place outside of the USA I've ever been. Where am I? I'm in the capital of Croatia. There was war here in these peoples life time. They witnessed the threat of death everyday. That, or they threatened death. It's the ugly side we don't often think about. You think oh old war territory how sad, until you meet the children of war criminals who laugh as they tell you their parents were war criminals. The fact that genocide happened in this region in the last 25 years makes one a little concerned when meeting the children of war criminals. Though, I try not to judge any one based off of one aspect of their lives. As I told my family the other night, if Tutsis work everyday alongside Hutus in Rwanda to forgive them for the massacre of their families well then, I can sit across the dinner table from the children of war criminals in Croatia. 

Their language is bizarre. Quite similar dare I sat it to what children in the United States sound like when they spontaneously make up a jibberish language. I mean that with no disrespect, just an observation. 

The buildings are falling apart and look as though well as though they survived through times of two world wars, civil wars, communist regimes, fascist regimes, and so on, perhaps because it has, all within the last 100 years. 

It is clear to me, someone who has studied communism and the effects it can have on society, that communism has left it's mark here. 

Shops are dirty and half empty, with a stark contrast the the central strip which has Zara, Adidas, Apple, Mango, and even more big name brand stores. 

The wardrobe differences between gender are also quite comical, while most women are dressed to the nines, nearly all men sport jean Bermuda shorts and T shirts. 

There are small kiosks on every corner. And in between every corner. Approximately every 12 feet there is a kiosk, selling the same things: gum, coke and water, and magazines. 

The tram is a large above ground blue train that clamors through the streets but doesn't dictate the traffic signals, but instead follows them screeching to a halt every time a light turns red. 

Everyone walks around eating pastries out of paper wrappers and screaming into their cell phones. Teens aren't shy with public displays of affection, and there are many many places to buy morning baked pizza by the slice. 

Women who are pregnant appear very young, not the 30+ I suppose I'm used to seeing at home or in Spain.

Buildings are new and old smelly and delicious smelling. I'm so confused. Streets are big and small. Where am I?

I can't decide if the people here are happy to live here or not. Are they proud to be Croatian after all they went through for independent and separation? Is it shame, or guilt, or trauma that I sense? I really can't put my finger on it but something is off here, there's a puzzle piece I must not be understanding. 

I also can't decide if I'm being stared at for being different or if they even know I'm foreign. It's weird this place 

I could go on and on...