marina in the early afternoon every few days. They have free wi-fi and
I buy a beer and catch up. Today, (well, yesterday by now) I was unable
to send email but had a beer anyway, watching the sailboats come in.
Later that evening Charles called. I hadn't talked to him in a long
time (hell, I haven't seen him for two years now.) He was bach'ing for
a few days like I am now. As we chatted, I heard strange sounds coming
from the Riva - the waterfront - a drum, trombones, and maybe an
accordion. I lit a cigar and strolled down and, damn, if they didn't
have an Madi Gras happening there. Dance troupes in gaudy costumes:
red, yellow, green, Turks, hareem girls, red horned devils in
miniskirts, pirates, scarecrows,and lots and lots of Rayon. It was the
Rijeka carnival come to Brac. (Check it out on the WWW, the Madi Gras
carnival in Rijeka is big in Europe.) Even the local young people and a
few older ones who worked for the village had gone all out on Arabian
shiek and hareem costumes.
The troupes would gather at the corner of Fjaka, a coffee-bar, and when
their turn came, come through the crowd following their banners into
the tiny, main square whirling and dancing to their chosen music. They
would dance about 100 feet, then sort of march-dance-mill about in a
tight circle, kicking their legs and flinging their arms, and doing
their best to be ecstatic, or at least cheerful, unfettered and free, in
the small space.
Meanwhile, the older Croatian women - built like blocks of square black
stone - sat on the park benches and stolidly watched it all.
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