I just got a call from a woman working in the post office in Motovun. A registered letter from the tax authority in Pazin is awaiting me. I asked for the letter to be forwarded to me in Zagreb, which is not exactly in accordance with the law, for I have to sign it upon receipt. The woman I talked to will have to sign it in my name, and thus she wanted my authorization to do so. The two of us are friendly enough, and I expect the letter tomorrow or the day after tomorrow. I have no idea what it is about, but it worries me a lot. Although I have been fulfilling my tax obligations to the best of my understanding of the Croatian law, I can never tell in advance what is actually expected of me. Like so many others in this godforsaken country, I am made to feel guilty ahead of time. Has the law changed without my knowledge? Am I in debt for some reason unknown to me? Will I have to pay a hefty fine for my untoward ignorance? One way or another, the registered letter coming my way makes me quite miserable a day or two before its arrival. For crying out loud, what have I done? Croatia, the land of the guilty.

Addendum I (January 23, 2014)

Sent by priority mail from the post office in Motovun, the registered letter arrived this morning to my beloved’s address in Zagreb. It was signed by the woman who runs the tax office in Pazin. A page and a half in length, it contains nothing to worry about, but it is brimming with bureaucratic gobbledygook that is difficult to fathom. Paying tax is one thing, but following the proper procedures is another. The main message is that I must fill in and submit all sorts of forms, which are available in special stores across Croatia. I immediately went to one such store in the center of the Croatian capital, and asked for all the forms required. As it turned out, the two women tending the store were confused about one of the forms mentioned in the letter, and then I asked them for all the forms they could imagine I would need. “What are you by profession?” one of them asked. “I used to be a university professor,” I replied. “Well,” the woman answered half in jest, “it won’t be easy for you!” There was much laughter, but they still sold me a whole bunch of forms, some of which are mind-boggling in length. It will be quite a pleasure to fill them out, no doubt. But they will be heading for Pazin by the end of the week. My lame revenge!

Addendum II (January 24, 2014)

My response to the registered letter is in the mail already. The head of the tax office in Pazin will be perplexed by it, though. First, it is in English once again even though she expressly informed me that the official language in Croatia is Croatian. Second, my letter comes with a whole bunch of official forms that I filled in without due care. In fact, I kept laughing through the ordeal. The Croatian language in these forms was also beyond me most of the time. So, it is already clear to me that I will have to hire a bookkeeper who will take care of my taxes in Croatia. Only a professional could ever manage the silly forms I have played with. In the meanwhile, I will keep sending my money to Pazin, where they are bound to remember me as honest but stupid.