Why is the jugo blamed for almost everything?
In Dalmatia we have three distinct winds, jugo (a warm and damp southern wind), bura (an icy wind that blows from the Velebit Mountains in the north-east) and majstral (a cool summer westerly wind). It's always the top topic of conversation every morning as to which wind is blowing and what weather forcast it brings with it to Tisno.
Jugo gets blamed for everything - from flooding the town to sore throats, headache and general mental disturbia. Yes, it does flood the town. The jugo rises the sea level and greatly increases the sea swell in the Adriatic (it's the same wind that causes flooding in Venice). In Tisno, it's not unusual for the square in the centre of the town to become completely flooded and the road passing by the front of the council chambers to be underwater, hampering all access to the centre via this route.
But I still fail to understand how jugo can affect your health and mental disposition. When the jugo blows, all you hear around town is: 'Ajme jugo! Glava me boli' (I have a headache), 'Ajme jugo! Kuk me boli (my back hurts). If you mention to someone that you have a sore throat whilst jugo is blowing, the standard response is, 'Ah, to ti je jugo!' (that's jugo for you!). And if someone is depressed or doing something insane around town (as there nearly always is), everyone will say 'Jugo mu/nju smeta!' (Jugo is getting to him/her).
I still don't understand how a wind can be blamed for all of the above. To me it doesn't make sense. I would actually like to do some scientific research on people in Tisno when the jugo is blowing, to see if it really affects them metally or physically, or if they are just using this as an excuse.
Why do we all have bizzare family nicknames?
Almost everyone in Tisno is known by a family nickname. This nickname usually identifies them more than their actual name. Smuđin, Rujo, Pujo, Digi, Pumpela, Košon.....just to name a few. My family are known as Kretovi. It has no relation to our actual surname and I have no idea where is came from. If I mention my surname to someone in town who doesn't know me personally, they have extreme difficulty in identifying me. However, if I say that I'm mala Kretova (little girl from the Kretić family), they immediately know who I am and start retelling my entire family history.
I once heard a story about how my friend's family became known as Košonovi. Aparently some great uncle, or some relative, went to work in the French speaking region of Belgium for a few years. He returned to Tisno and everyone began to tease him because he hadn't learnt a word of French except for 'cochon' (French for pig, and is pronunciation is translated into Croatian as 'košon'), as he must have been putting this word into his sentences. From then on all his relations were known as Košonovi.
The tradition of nicknames is strong in other parts of Dalmatia too (My mum's family from Povljana, Pag, are known as 'Tutulovi' - more about the interesting town of Povljana in another post). I once heard a story about an official letter which was addressed to a man in Murter. The postman was told that there was no man by that name in Murter and the letter was returned to the sender. When the story of the letter was retold to the man in question, he replied that the letter was for him. His companions were dumbfounded, as they had know him their entire lives, but had no idea what his real name was, as he was identified solely by his nickname.
Even this morning my grandmother asked me what is the surname of some family friends of ours, refering to their family nickname. Although she's known the family almost her entire life, she has no idea what their surname is, but the nickname will always be known and never ever forgotten.
Why does the town bell toll incessantly on Sunday mornings? What if I want to sleep!
Our Kampaneja (bell tower) is a beautiful and striking monument of Tisno, and it's tolling is steeped in tradition - there is a specific 'melody' to announce someone's passing (and it differs if the person is male or female), a different one for Zdrava Marija (the tolling at 8pm, used to remind people, particularly children, that it's time to go home for dinner), there's a different toll to announce the hour, the quarter hour, the half hour and the three-quarter hour, and an entirely different melody on Sunday mornings, when it tolls and tolls and tolls - from 6am until midday it doesn't stop! (I feel sorry for those people who live directly below it, and even more so for the tourists in Hotel Borovnik who have paid to be denied of sleep!).
This 'irritating' tolling isn't set aside strictly for Sundays. Every morning the bell tower tolls for a least 5-10 minutes at 6 o'clock in the morning. This originally served to wake up the peasant population of Tisno for the start of the working day. After the 5 or 10 minutes it stops and you do manage to fall back alseep. Although our house is on the other side of town, somehow the geographical formation of Tisno, with two opposing hills meeting at a narrow strait of the Adriatic Sea, means that we hear everything as clearly as if we were na rudini (in the centre) - when bands play in the centre it sounds as though they are in the street infront of my bedroom window. And in the stillness of the early morning hours, you can hear the lone group of people speaking in the centre, and on the odd occasion, it is possible to clearly identify people's voices.
Anyway, on Sundays it seems as though Kampaneja is right outside my window with its never ending 'dong, dong, dong, dong!' and sleep is an entirely impossible ideal. I understand it's a tradition - the bell tolls on Sunday mornings to 'remind' everyone to go to church - either 9am mass or 10:30am mass. But after a late Saturday night, after too many drinks, too much food, too much singing and dancing, I think many of us would prefer sleep over tradition. Ok, so toll once before 9am mass, and once before 10:30 mass, and once on the hour, but incessant donging all morning...please! (Don't be mistaken, I'm an avid admirer of this history and traditions of Tisno, but this one just slightly steps over the line).
Why do street names and number exist, when no one uses them?
Every street in Tisno has a name, and the majority of house have street numbers allocated to them (although there are a number which are declared as bb (bez broj - without a number)). But no one in Tisno uses street addresses and many people, although they have lived in Tisno their entire lives, do not know the names of many of the streets. If you say to someone, I live in so and so street, they are more than likely to give you a perplexed and confused look. If you say you live next door to a certain person, or across the road from another, they can immediately tell you where your hosue is geographically and even describe what your house looks like.
When I order from delivery from Brošćica (the only restaurant in town that offers home delivery - available from 3pm til late), either pizzas (quality can vary, depending on the day) or topli sendviči (fantastic 'hot sandwiches' made from folded-over pizza bread - similar to Italian calzone - prsut, sir i mejoneza (Dalmatian prosciutto, cheese and mayonnaise - Croatian mayonnaise is to die for) is the best combination!) I've learnt not to give my address, as this is usually follow by a "huh?!?!" Since my family hasn't lived in our house for a quite a number of years (if we had been I'd be able to say 'kretova kuća' (the kretic house) and they would immediately know where to go). Instead I say that it's the house next to Teo and across the road from Slobodanka, and then the response is 'Oh, that white house on the corner! I know the one!' And then one of the boys comes up on the scooter with my nice and hot topli sendvić!
And some other small town peculiarities:
- If you're looking for someone between 9am and 11am any day of the week, just scan all the cafes in Tisno and you're more than likely to find them. There is a serious cafe culture in Tisno. For a town of about 1000 inhabitants, there are about four or five cafes which are open all year round (and more than double that number during the summer months). Oh, and if you're in Kole's cafe at about 11am, you'll have to fight Mr. Steve for the newspapers.
- People in Tisno are petrified of propuh (draught). Whenever you enter someone's house, make sure to securely close the door behind you, in order to avoid a lecture about the danger of falling ill.
- Never walk around town bos (without shoes) or wear open shoes too soon after winter - again you'll get harassed about the dangers to your health.
- Gossip travels like wildfire. For example: You buy eggs at the supermarket, maybe you stop to buy some bread too on the way home. By the time you reach your front door your neighbour is standing there and 'reprimands' you for buying eggs when they have chickens and eggs galore and you're more than welcome to take as many as you want. I have a suspicion that some people know things before they actually happen. It's a bit scary.
- Gemišt and Bevanda. Many vino connaiseurs would be terrified to hear that people in Tisno, and throughout Dalmatia, water down their wine. Be it at home, or in an upmarket restaurant, many people prefer to drink diluted wine. Wine with sparkling mineral water is known as gemišt and with still water it is known as a bevanda. Also, a red wine and Coca Cola concoction is known as bambus.
There are so many peculiarities and little small town oddities, some of which I can't quite recall at this moment. Check back for updates. x
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