I enter one of Zagreb’s bookstores with English books and walk up to the information counter. When the woman on duty is finished with the previous customer, she looks up at me. “Yes,” she attempts a smile. “Key word,” I spout somewhat curtly, “Nasrudin.” She looks up again: “Is that the author’s name?” “No,” I shake my head. “Sorry,” she says after her search and attempts another smile. “Me, too,” I wave her goodbye and head for the exit. “The author’s name,” I shake my head again when I reach the street.