Soon after I “returned” to Croatia, I bought a book about the genetic roots of the Croats. That is the only book in Croatian I have ever bought, too. I have only skimmed through it, and it offered much merriment. The then minister of education, an idiot through and through, wrote the introduction, which was ridiculous to boot. At any rate, the book was about the Persian roots of the nation. Pure bullshit, it was fun in its own right. Which is why I love to watch the faces around me in the Croatian capital. There are a few recognizable types, which I can associate mainly with Slavonia, Dalmatia, and Herzegovina. Most Slavonians look Hungarian to me, the bulk of Dalmatians look either Italian or Arab, while the Herzegovinians seem to be a mix of Slavs and, say, Illyrians. But the rest is an incredible hotchpotch, and especially in Zagreb, where all Croats congregate. Quite a number of people look German to me. A few seem to be Russian. On occasion I stumble upon Asians of all sorts, though. As I am writing, across the isle from me in a busy café there sits a woman who would feel at home anywhere between, say, Azerbaijan and Turkmenistan. Luckily for me, she speaks fluent Croatian with an accent that comes straight from the capital. So much for the genetic roots of the Croats. Like any other nation, they are a hotchpotch for true.