Author: Z.S.
Croatian author Dada Batinić wrote a hilarious status on her Facebook that quickly went viral in Croatia. It’s all about prejudice that some Croatian have of certain nationalities that visit Croatia as tourists. Very soon, a Reddit user Panonia translated it to English.
Italians always ask you if you speak English but regardless of your answer they won’t understand anything because they themselves don’t speak the language. The phrase ‘Speek Inglish?’ is something that in Italy gets transferred from generation to generation, and everyone’s heard of it. They usually drag themselves around the apartment and always need something, often things they don’t even have back home. They all ask questions at the same time and manage to get in fights before you give them an answer. When they leave you have no use of the apartment anymore because it needs to be thoroughly cleaned, deratized or, for the best, burned to the ground.
Bosnians, my favorite guests, always bring an extra person, more than can fit in the car. The moment they park, they pop out with a smile, as if they haven’t traveled for 8 hours at crazy temperatures. On the way to you they stopped by in Jablanica and brought you some barbecue, then in Blagaj and bought you some hurmašicas, then in Metković where they bought nectarine marmalade they wanted to take home but they give it to you anyway. They kiss and hug you even though you just met. Their reservation was for 7 days but they spend all the money by tomorrow. They start packing things but you give them 5 days for free. By the time they leave you’re best friends and you’ve arranged to spend your winter holidays in Bosnia.
If a German tells you he will come Saturday at 10:00 he will be there at 10:00:00 even if the road was closed and his mother just died. You treat them the way they treat you – formally, as if you’re in the town hall to get some documents. After the first meeting you barely see them at all. You act orderly while they’re around, put the TV volume at a 20 max and threaten your father you’ll send him to nursing home if he raises it to 30. Your cellphone is not ringing but buzzing and even if you win on lottery you whisper ‘yippie’. When they leave you give the apartment to Americans to balance the energies.
Poles are not sure if Makarska is the town they wanted to go to, or how they even got here in the first place. They ask a lot but hear no answers. They ask when’s the best time to go on the mountain and you tell them in the morning, before the sun rises high. They’ll go there at the noon. Tell them the local store is 50 meters on the left, they’ll go right and wander out of town. You send them to the beach, 5 minutes down the street, they come back with photos of goats from a village 10 kilometres from the town. Every time you ask them something they smile like fools and you wonder if they should be the ones staying at a nursing home. They break half the stuff in the apartment and accuse you of digging through their suitcase because they can’t find the can opener they brought from Poland.
The English find everything to be just excellent, except the things they put their hands on. Local sardines are great but do you by any chance have fish and chips? The younger ones are easier to deal with, they heard of Dubrovnik and Zrće beach so you just explain you’re halfway between. The next day they’ll surely go to either of those place, depending on the bus lines. You always have to charge them in advance because they drink like Russians, fall from the balcony the same night and spend the next few days in the hospital.
The French, the moment they come, start writing down things they’re going to complain about, hoping for a refund. You’d rather just give them 100 euros at the start and not listen to their complaints over the slightest things. For their money you’d rent another apartment in the town and stay there until they leave yours.
An Austrian, just like a Slovene, either comes on a bike or with a car with at least 6 bikes on the roof. He doesn’t go to the beach but you’ll find him riding his bike in the middle of the mountain track. You’re driving a Golf 3 TDI and have a dead race to the top. You try to push him off the track but he lifts the bike and drives on the back wheel while you end up hitting a rock. He comes to the top first and the half litre bottle of water he brought still has 4 decilitres left. He gives it to you because the fan in your car is broken.
Datum objave: 10.07.2015.
