The tax authority in Pazin has not yet responded to my inquiry a fortnight ago about how much tax I will have to pay as a foreign pensioner residing in Croatia, and by when I will have to pay it. They never will, most likely. Thus I decided a couple days ago to send them a random amount by way of payment in hope of their eventual response (“Croatia in a Nutshell,” February 18, 2013). But this is not as easy as I have thought. I have accounts in two different Croatian banks, where I keep small amounts just for emergencies, but neither account comes with a checkbook. This afternoon I went to one of the banks and asked whether they could take some money from my account and make me a check of their own, which I could then send to Pazin by post. As it turns out, that is not possible. Tax authorities across the country can be paid only on their own accounts, but each type of payment goes to a different account. The only way to get the right account number is to call the tax authority in question and inquire about the account number for the specific type of payment that is to be made. In short, the crafty bureaucrats have made their lives pretty easy, as they do not have to do a thing to channel the money they receive into different pots. All they have to do is to field occasional inquiries as to the right account number. And this is what I will have to do any day now, so that I can fulfill my mysterious tax obligations. I already dread that call, though. After so many horrendous experiences with bureaucrats in Pazin, it is like calling hell. Nay, Satan himself.

Addendum I (February 21, 2013)

This morning I found the website of the tax authority in Pazin on the World Wide Web. In addition to two phone numbers for general information, I even found the number of an advisor concerning income tax. I called that number first, but the phone just rang and rang. I tried again, and the same happened once more. The same happened with one of the general information numbers, but I was eventually successful with the other one. “Well,” the women sighed when I told her about my many calls, “everyone here is busy answering questions.” I explained that I needed to talk to someone dealing with foreign pensions, and she gave me five additional numbers. After much ringing, I got lucky. The woman I managed to get gave me the phone number of a person dealing specifically with foreign pensions. Miraculously, the woman in question responded after only a few rings. In her thirties or forties, she was quite pleasant on the phone, as well. I told her that I needed the account number for my monthly tax payments, and she readily gave it to me. By the way, the number boasts of no less than thirty digits. It consists of three parts: the tax authority in Pazin, the income tax payment code, and my personal identification number. Yes, there is such a thing in Croatia as of a few years ago. And in comes on top of personal identification cards, which also have numbers for each and every citizen. Who needs checks in a country so meticulously administered?! At any rate, I was pleased with my accomplishment this morning. “So,” I said jovially, “you’re a specialist in foreign pensions.” “Well,” she chuckled, “I’m just a pair of hands here!” After all, hell is not such a horrible place.

Addendum II (March 6, 2014)

After much meandering between tax authority offices in Pazin, I recently came upon the woman I talked to a bit more than a year ago. She sent me a few forms I could fathom without any trouble. I filled them in at once and sent them back to her. For good measure, I added a little personal note for her. Seeing that my misery is nearing an end, I thanked her profusely for all she had done for me. Today I got two registered letters from Pazin, and she was behind them both. Indeed, the misery is finally over. I will have to visit the woman when I return to Motovun after a long winter in Zagreb, but everything is in order at long last. Elated, I called her again. She was as wonderful as the first time we talked. She explained to me that I would need to come to sign something or other having to do with my taxes two years ago, but she agreed with me that everything was hunky-dory at this point. I promised to come to Pazin as soon as possible, and I thanked her profusely one more time. Hell is a horrible place, but one occasionally comes across an angel even there. Alleluia!