One of my goals in Croatia was to randomly – very important, it had to be random – see a poster of Elvis somewhere. Because you know he’s there.
Walking down to the beach in Hvar, “Now or Never” was blaring through the hallway to the pool, so that was sort of in the realm, but I still kept my eyes peeled.
In Split, Ante, our awesome linebacker-size guide, barreled us through Diocletian’s Palace, pointing stuff out so we could get our bearings (we came back later and wandered around leisurely).
He stopped and showed us a dark alley, with a wall at the end of it. “See that?”
We did, indeed, see it.
Ante said: “This was the Jewish quarter. Back into antiquity the Jews lived here. Jews had always been here. Important community. But – bad – being in one quarter like this also meant they were all in one place so … easier to round them up. So the Jews lived here in … you know the song … ‘In the Ghetto?’”
He sang those words right in my face.
I said, “Elvis.” Because frankly what else was I gonna say.
Ante shrugged, in a kind of fatalistic Balkan way, and announced, “He is King.” I almost burst out laughing. He said it like “This is how it is, why fight it.”
THEN he said, casually, totally not a big deal, as he turned to continue us on our tour, “I think he’s still alive.”
This random exchange – unprompted by me – inspired by the ancient Jewish quarter (of all things) is far better than coming across a poster of Elvis or something like that.
