What a Difference Ljubljana

What a difference a day makes. A day in Ljubljana I mean.

After arriving in the dark and booked into whatever we could find last minute and getting completely baffled by the complex bus system, it seemed like very little could go right during our stay here.

But then I woke up this morning, 24 hours later, in the most beautiful and simple and clean-fresh smelling bed and breakfast. There is this lovely Slovenian woman who pops into the living room every now and then, makes me tea, and asks how my day has been and what Ive seen. She finds it funny that so much time is spent on my laptop, but then, she doesn’t realize that Im a podjournalist and there’s not vacation from such a trade.. it flows through my veins. Not to mention, wifi is so abundant in Ljubljana as compared to any italian city or portuguese city.. this place could teach Europa a thing or two about technology!

This city is fanastic. It is small.. very charming… very quiet.. and even outside the city center.. people seem quite kindhearted.

On the morning we awaited the bus to get the hell out of that racket they called a hostel, I noticed a paint truck had sped by and one big can of white paint had fallen over and broken onto the pavement. The driver didn’t notice, and what followed was a scene that reminded me of Newark for some reason: the first few cars slow down, and attempt to drive around it, causing all kinds of dangerous driving.

Here’s what I notice: an old woman crossing the street, sees the paint container, and without flinching, starts dragging it across the street and out of traffic. She did it with such a style, that to me screamed “this is my community, I saw this and I can do something about it.” For some reason I remembed times in Newark where something like this would happen and people would just drive around it and never would anyone try to solve the problem. Maybe Im being too critical of my city-of-birth.

Five minutes later, across the street at another bus stop, an elderly slovenian man falls down while getting off the bus. Lots of busy people didn’t seem to notice, but every person around him turns and stops to check on him. They were almost competing to help him in some way.. 5, 6 people all gathered around. picking up his stuff, putting an arm around him. I could tell they were strangers.. and yet.. another scene that I found very charming and perhaps telling of Slovenian city life.

Who knows, maybe I see what I want to see… but I love this place. And now I wish to meet a Slovenian girl who sweeps me off my feet.. or vica-versa.. cause let me just say, they are beautiful in such a cool and independent way.

Adopted By a Milanese Family

My last night in Milano and one of those classic things that always happens to me happens to me. After wandering town all day long, and soaking in what my friend Alberto calls “typical Milanese environment”, ie: cloudy, rainy, busy, noisy; I made plans to meet my friend Sarolina’s parents in order to pick some stuff up to bring back to Amsterdam for her.

To my surprise and to Sara’s approval, her mom and dad not only wanted to say hello and drink tea.. the moment they greeted me in front of Café Zucca the mother says to me “marko… come to our house for dinner”. They seemed like charming people and knowing how great their daughter is, I happily agree.

So there I am, a Tuesday night in November, sitting in a VERY Italian parlour with wall-to-wall books, discussing the history of Portugal with her father.. in Italian somehow. As so often happens, the father was very surprised about how similar Italian is to Portuguese…. which means Italians need to spread the word… they have lots in common with the Iberian penninsula.

In the end, I had a fantastic meal, and great discussion about their travels and life, including the recounting of a journey through yugoslavia, soviet union, turkey, iran, iraq, jordan, and syria back in the 70’s.

“It was an amazing time, the father smiled, “we were so welcome there and you were free to travel everywhere. Not like today, now you can’t get far without being questioned and so much has been destroyed.”

Afterwards they insisted on driving me back to the vlog apartment. Which has gone from housing 6+ people to an oh-so-comfy 3. (I get my own huge bed tonight). Tomorrow we’re off to Verona, where star-crossed lovers used to kill themselves I think.

For those seeking importance in the world: I’ve been listening back and reading through the transcripts that were released, of the military tribunals for guantanamo prisoners.