Last night I spent an hour or so talking about my life with my beloved. She just listened to my ravings. I talked about Motovun and the emerging political quagmire there, as well as on the movers and shakers in Pula and Zagreb who are actually behind the local turmoil. I talked about the political irrelevance of my green connections on the peninsula, the Croatian capital, and across the land. I talked about the crooked Istrian and Croatian politics in general and the impossibility of changing anything crucial in the region or the country any time soon. The details of my ruminations are not important, though. What is important is their eventual conclusion. “The main problem I am facing at the moment,” I admitted at last, “is that I realize that all this is a waste of my time, for Istria as a region and Croatia as a whole are of no importance whatsoever in the world we live in.” My own life in Motovun and Zagreb is something else, of course, as is our life together in both places, but battling with the Istrian and Croatian context of my daily round is something I must abandon as soon as possible. “Complete and total irrelevance,” I kept repeating as if to myself. My beloved kept listening to the bitter end. One way or another, this morning I feel much, much better.

Addendum (July 17, 2015)

Two things come to my mind when I read this piece a bit more than six years later. To begin with, my battle with the crooked Istrian and Croatian politics is now over. Less than two months ago, my case against Croatia and its crooked courts went to Strasbourg. Although it may take the European Court of Human Rights another year or maybe even two to decide on my case, it is out of my hands by now. Which means that I can relax at long last. As well as dedicate myself to my life with my beloved without a remainder. Back in 2009, I could not even imagine that my battle could take that long.

More important, it is wonderful to read about my beloved’s reaction to my ravings six years ago. She just listened and listened without a word. Given my emotions at the time, this was the wisest thing for her to do. Consoling me would go awry. And so would arguing with me in any way imaginable. By the time this piece was written, I had three cases lodged against me by the then mayor of Motovun, Slobodan Vugrinec. He had powerful allies behind his back. In Istria, he had Ivan Jakovčić, the governor. And in Zagreb, he had Ivo Sanader, the prime minister. I was as good as dead in 2009. But my beloved listened to what I had to say without a single word, and I cannot but appreciate her silence to this day.

As for my conclusion about the complete and total irrelevance of both Istria and Croatia, it still holds. In fact, it holds even better so many years hence. My battle was a waste of time. All it involved was crooked golf, which was foisted upon Motovun during the real estate boom that started with the new millennium. Back then, golf was about real estate development that brought together corrupt investors and equally corrupt politicians. It had nothing to do with the posh sport, but with untold apartments, villas, and swimming pools. The end of the boom in 2008 was the end of golf, as well. This would have happened even if I kept quiet through the entire process. Looking back, I wasted seven or eight years of my life for no reason whatsoever.