Croatia (September 16-27)

Regardless of whether I'm leaving someplace or arriving somewhere new, I still feel a thrill as I swing my big backpack onto my back, tighten the hip strap, look down at my chocolate and dust colored round-toed hiking boots, and march towards what's next. My elbows are dry and dirty; my legs scraped, cut, and bruised. I have turned each of my pairs of underwear inside out and back to right-side out a few times over. My diet changes by week and my sleeping habits inconsistent. I still wonder when this will stop being fun.


Eko-Centar Caput Insulae, Beli, Island of Cres, Croatia

There is a beautiful island in the Adriatic Sea. It is called Cres (pronounced Tress) and belongs to Croatia. Before reaching its current political resting place, it has in turn been ruled by the Romans, the Austro-Hungarians, the Italians, the Germans, and Yugoslavia. The 45th parallel cuts the island in two, forming a Continental climate in the north and a Mediterranean climate in the south. Sheer cliffs rise hundreds of feet from glittering blue sea, as sheer as a sheet of glass on calm days.









On this island is most of the last remaining habitat of the Eurasin Griffon Vulture. An endangered species, this bird is threatened by tourism, development and loss of habitat, a decrease in food supply, and poisoning. Wild boars
and foxes have become invasive pests since they were introduced to Cres and the surrounding islands, so residents have taken to putting poison in their sheep so that when the foxes or boars eat them, they die. However, dead sheep are the griffons' main food source, so they too get poisoned from this practice. Furthermore, there are less sheep than there used to be because so many people have emigrated off the island, particularly after WWII. There are fewer sheep herders and fewer sheep. Large tourist boats also endanger the griffons by coming too close to their nests on the cliffs above the sea. Young griffons get scared and attempt to fly away, but they are too young and weak and sometimes end up in the sea and drown. Interestingly, when a glacier melted here a long time ago the sea level rose and so these griffons' nests became closer to the water. Over many years these griffons have evolved to be the largest griffon vultures in the world because the largest and strongest ones were more able to alight from their cliff homes and take flight so close to the sea without falling in. However, the high sea level remains to keep these vultures extra vulnerable.

The Eko-Centar Caput Insulae, founded in 1993, takes of number of measures to help diminish these threats to the Griffons. They have made agreements with the local fishermen to rescue any drowning griffons they find, and then contact the Eko-Centar. The Eko-Centar also feeds the wild griffons occasionally to offset the lack of food caused by the dwindling population of shepards. Injured or otherwise debilitated griffons are brought to the Eko-Centar to be cared for, rehabilitated, and ideally, released back into the wild. The Eko-Centar also captures every young griffon on the island, tags them, and then releases them, in order to monitor and track the population to some extent.

The day Colleen and I arrived at the Centar four birds (either healed and ready to be released, or captured by the Eko-Centar to be marked) were tagged-on their right wings and feet. Aside from being able to witness these beautiful and giant birds up close (they have a nine foot wing span), I even got to hold one's strong and bumpy leg as it was tagged!



The next day we were again graced with an exciting event--the release of two griffons. They put the birds in sacs and we all drove to the release spot. They placed the cage maybe 40 feet from a viewing shed, which we filed into. Instructed to be absolutely silent, we peeked through the small windows, watching the birds adjust, within the cage, to their new surroundings. Then a rope that was attached to the cage was pulled and the door opened. Some griffons fly away immediately. These two, however, jumped out of the cage eagerly and stood around stretching their wings for about 20 mintues. They then flew off with flocks of ravens close behind (who were trying to drive the griffons from their territory.




Like at La Sabranenque, I worked in the mornings and had the afternoons free. One day Colleen and I had kitchen duty, cooking up chicken soup, salad, lentils, and pasta for 14 hungry staff members and volunteers. Two mornings I worked at the exhibition. The Eko-Centar welcomes visitors, who for a small admission can view: two exhibits inside (one on the geology and ecology of the island, and the other on the Eurasion Griffon vulture); then the griffons that are living at the centar the the time; then the donkey and sheep; then a small exhibit on the cultural history of the island. I welcomed visitors, took their money and gave them their entry tickets, briefly told them about the work of the centar, and introduced them to the exhibits. When they were finished with the exhibits I showed them the griffons and explained about the three residents--Koleda, Pepina, and Torgos--who for various reasons will never be able to be released back into the wild. I showed them the donkey, Pepice, and was once embarassingly butted by a sheep in front of a nice German family when I attempted to feed it. Most visitors were German, Italian, and Croatian. All spoke some English, if not excellent English, and again I was impressed and very grateful and being able to use my native tongue with all sorts of people in all sorts of foreign places.

During the afternoons and evenings I hung out with the other volunteers, drinking Croatian wine for 1€ a glass. At the Eko-Centar, as at La Sabranenque, I fould myself happily and easily socializing with a wonderfully randon hodge podge of people. Greatly diverse in age and nationality, we arguably all shared but one thing in common--our present location.








One time I found myself explaining the game of baseball to half a dozen Europeans: "No no, if you hit a foul ball three times the third time actually doesn't cound as a strike." "Yeah, stealing is kind of like cheating I guess." "No, see if the ball is caught by players the hitter is out, but if it's caught by spectators, it's a home run." "Oh no, the fans aren't scared at all if the ball comes speeding towards their heads, it's the best things that can happen to you at a baseball game!" My verbal explanation was even supplemented by drawings at a whiteboard.

One afternoon I took off by myself for a three hour hike. The Eko-Centar has created a series of well-marked trails around the island. That afternoon I embarked on the purple trail--or Fairy Trail. This was a wonderful experience, as I realized I had never really hiked alone. With the solitude (I saw only one person the entire time) I found myself absorbing the sights, sounds, and smells in more detail than ever before. Coupled with the amount of time I had, I found myself standing for minutes watching a beetle trying to roll dung up the path, staring for as long as possible into the eyes of a young dark brown fawn, and taking loads of close-up photos of various growing things--bark, moss, fungi. The hum of bees, the sound of lizards scampering behind rocks as I passed, and my own footsteps were delightfully loud in my ears. I understood why some people seek solitude as a way of life. By the end of the hike however I also understood how solitude could drive people crazy, as I found myself very eager to get back to the Centar and speak to people. I just couldn't wait to, ironically, tell others how much I enjoyed the lonesome hike.






At one point the trail passed by a village abandoned after WWII. I took a detour and climbed the hill onto traces of paths connecting dilapidated stone homes. It was eerie and thrilling as I ducked through the abandoned rooms littered with raw and personal evidence of recent human life: pants, shoes, dishes, hooks on the wall, beds, ovens, even an old box of Q-Tips. Climbing creaking and rotting stairs to the second floor of one home felt especially strange, like an invasion of privacy...





At one point I emerged from the forest trail into a brilliant meadow. The sun was shining and the grass was so green. Frogs croaked from a glittering pond, sheep chewed at the grass, birds sang, and a breeze blew. It was so beautiful I had to try to capture it somehow. Photos weren't cutting it so I took two videos. Let's call them experimental...
I have been able to successfully upload one of them onto utube. The second one is on it's way. If you want to stare at grass and sheep for too long, go to:

http://www.youtube.com/user/rmw230

During my hike I had two epiphanies--the first one is that it no longer feels strange or unsettling to be alone or on my own. On the contrary, quite special sometimes. The second one, and certainly more profound, is that I like digital photography. I shock myself by even going so far as to say I really like digital photography. This is not a defeat. This is not a defeat. This is not a defeat...