zagreb

it is strange how many good croatian friends i have, given how much i dislike Croatia.
as a result, i do from time to time end up in this country. yet, everytime i am here i am aware that clearly my friends are not representative of the country. over a lengthy dinner Saturday night, the guy next to me estimated that in his entire life as a Croat, he had managed only to be in contact with two percent of the population, something he seemed quite grateful for. for it is a country with some scary elements, as i got to see close up this weekend. One of my good friends got married in Zagreb and of course i came over for the occassion. He had a very civilised ceremony, and had planned an after party in an elegant restaurant on the Central square, Trg jelacica. but soon after he made the reservation, he realsied that they very same night there was going to be a Thompson concert on the very same square. for those of you lucky enough not to have been exposed at length to the kitchy horror of Balkan Turbo folk, Thompson is a singer from a town called Cavoglave. he joined the army and fought in what the Croats are now calling the "Homeland war" and made lots of videos of his music, featuring him in his uniform and lots of guys waving guns over their heads, as they pledged to defend their village from the cetniks.
by the time we got to the square around 7:30, the square was already filling with Thompson fans. they were the kind of Croats i dont know: loud screaming people with ustasa tatoos and flags wrapped around their bodies. a couple of guys from the wedding party insisted on escorting me into the building where the after party was to be held, lest my accent exposed me to the mob as the evil person they would think i am, and lead to me being lynched. "you dont mess with these guys, they are crazy and violent," one of my escorts whispered in my ear as we walked pass a guy in a Thompson shirt brandishing a fake looking sword.
By 9pm, the square had tens of thousands of people. we went on the balcony overlooking the show to watch as a priest came on stage to describe what a hero Thompson was, and to detail for us all his great struggles on behalf of the homeland in the war. By the time Thompson came on stage, the crowd was a screaming mob of hysteria. the stage had been constructed as a fake castle, and periodically flames lept out of certain parts of it, as the now middle aged ex-war hero ran around in incredibly tight jeans. it was slightly absurd and I giggled. "yeah, it is funny for you, you dont have to live here," groaned the guy on the balcony next to me. The croat of his screaming countrymen was clearly as foreign to him as to me. yet what was most curious was the age of the audience: they were not old war vets. Many looked to young to have fought in the war. this was not an event appealing to nostalgia, it was something that was still drawing and attracting new blood.
what planet do i live on that allows me to frequently travel to a country, speak its language, make friends, and yet still be so astonished by a clearly sizable chunk of its population that is exotic enough to me that it resembles a freak show?