On Canovals' Blog you will encounter Croatian and other music that I like, along with the Psalms, some Croatian Bajka, and fairytales from other lands. I also write about other topics that intrigue me and I hope will interest you too. Dobrodosli! Welcome! Enjoy! Uživati!
"America." Everybody in the world knows where is "America." The fact, however, is that "America" is a continent. Actually there are two of them, North and South. Still, everybody in the world knows that "America" is the "United States." Even that is a wee problem because in North America there are two "United States." There is Sjedinjene Meksičke Države and there is Sjedinjene Američke Države. Despite those little technical difficulties no one in the world is confused about which one is "The United States," or just "America."
It wasn't always so. When the first Croats showed up in the waters around America, America was still America in the broader sense. Those early Croats shared the continents with Britain, France, Spain, Portugal, Denmark, the Netherlands, the Muskogee, the Cherokee, the Comanche and others. What's more, Croatians, along with others, helped build a few countries in North America like Texas, California, and even the Kingdom of Hawaii out in the Pacific.
With no independent Homeland back in Europe, these Croats were, for the most part, uninvolved in empire building or "colonialism" in the usual sense of that term, but they were having great adventures. One of those adventures has to do with what I am eating this very morning.
The histories all show that Napoleon III withdrew French troops from Mexico but hardly a word is written about the Croatian Hussars who were in Mexico with Carlotta's husband even though everyone loves Carlotta. When the Emperor was captured and shot, the Mexican officers with Benito Juárez asked him what to do with all these soldiers. Juárez is reputed to have said something like "We have cut off the head, the body of the snake is harmless."
So now, you are a Croatian soldier in a strange land far away from home. You have no money in your pocket and no way home. Besides, why would you want to go home? What is there for you? You have little future except perhaps to be a fisherman or a farm worker on some large estate owned by one of the Austrians who run the place.
You are hungry. Your belly is crying out to you. You've managed to steal two eggs out from under a chicken, one stale tortilla, an onion and a tomato. Beside yourself, you have three companions to feed. What do you do?
You crack open the eggs and you put them in the mess kit you were issued by the military. As always, te dvije oči jaja su namigujući on you. Those two eyes of the eggs are winking at you. What next? You crumble up the tortilla into the eggs, you cut up the tomato and the onion and you mix everything all together in the pan over the fire.
The war was vicious as all wars are. There is a shortage of young Mexican men. The smell from your cooking attracts the attention of a young Mexican woman carrying water home from the well. You try to explain your recipe to her. There is laughing and giggling. She tastes your meal. The closest she can come to saying all that about the eyes of the eggs winking is just "migas." Close enough. A new dish, a new word, and a new love has been born in the same hour. You are married and you have children. Your neighbors love your music. Eventually the community around you forgets that once you were a stranger.
Two generations later, Mexico cracks down on the Catholic Church. Your grandchildren don't remember exactly why, but they are Catholic among the Catholics and they find themselves across the border in Texas. They bring with them their Mariachi tradition also born in Eastern Europe. Your great grandson composes a song for his daughter for her wedding but he has been taught that it is not permitted for him to play and sing in church. But somehow a Croatian - American pastor who knows and understands what he is seeing insists that the father serenade his daughter at the end of the wedding service INSIDE the church. Perhaps he will not forget that day the rest of his life.
I know his daughter has not forgotten because, you see, I was that pastor. This happened about a decade ago. My musician friend is Croatian - American in the wider sense of that term. Mexican culture has mostly but not entirely forgotten there ever was such a thing among them. Homero Prado's family knows, and a few other musician families know. All the average Anglo - American sees when he looks at my friend is one more "Mexican." As a matter of fact, all the average Mexican - American sees is one more "Mexican."
My musician friend is one of those Croatian - Americans like those which Ambassador Joško Paro spoke of a few nights ago at the Croatian Embassy in Washington D.C. My musician brother knows some about the Croatian part of his roots and he is interested in knowing more. He is proud of his ancestry and he treasures that part of the culture he retains. Is he, or any of his extended family interested much in modern Croatia and other Croatian people? No, not especially. He is content here in South Texas where he can live his life as he wishes playing his music on special occasions. His children and grandchildren however just might be tourists in Croatia someday.
My friend is an example of one of those ethnicities about which neither Mexico nor the United States have any awareness. That's not surprising considering hardly anyone except us old ragged grey-haired historian types know about the Jews and the Arabs who also live in North Mexico and in Southern Texas - people who were exported from Spain and who lived under the thumb of "religious police" for several generations. Throw in the descendants of several Indian nations whose states disappeared long before they migrated into this area, a few modern Croats, some Poles, a handful of Polish Jews, and some "Anglos" and you begin to see that down here at the Rio Grande we are a rich and complex tapestry of "ethnicities" even though the statistics want to lump nearly everyone together as "Hispanic" just because almost all of us speak at least a little on Spanish.
Being Brownsvillian is complicated. We are not all the same, yet we share a lot in common. Being Croatian - American is complicated. We are not all the same, yet we share a rich heritage. Being Croatian is complicated. We are not all the same. Being South-East European is complicated. Being East European is complicated especially when you hyphenate any of that with "American" and then you discover that the US National Security Administration doesn't even know where East Europe is, much less anything about South East Europe. What hope do we have that they know anything much about Croatia or Bosnia. God forbid that they should need to know about the Sandjak or the Vojvodina or anywhere else in our neck of the woods. God help anyone from anywhere else. This is the start of another story ... its important, so I will write about that a little later. Do stay tuned for more over the next few days.
do sljedeći put, blagoslov - until next time, blessings,
I have informally extended a project about Croatian internet radio in which I was invited to participate by Nenad Bach and which we talked about on the last post. There is a lot of information floating around which suggests that many people are moving away from traditional radio / television to the internet. Google's whole business model is based on the notion that this move has already been underway and is substantial.
Over the years, I've had a few modest experiences with broadcasting on radio/television in Southern Illinois, Central Tennessee and in South Texas. In each case the population within the reception area amounted to about three million and the stations presumed from their studies that the audience might be around 300,000. The fact is that for any particular broadcast we didn't know how many listened. We knew that some people tuned in because they wrote letters.
It is difficult to compare "traditional" transmissions to internet transmissions where we can have hard data. On YouTube for example - we know how many times a video was clicked and we know in the aggregate how many minutes people stayed on that video. The algorithm which YouTube currently uses to "rank" a particular video takes into account "engagement" which includes "comments","like / dislike", and now its important to somehow keep the viewer on the video all the way through.
On YouTube we do not actually know where someone is located. We know only where they say they are located so I did not take location into account. My specifications were simple: channels which broadcast a fair amount of music by Croatian performers were included. In this group were channels operated by what appear to be Croatians in the same five continents where we found internet radio, as well as Slovenia and Serbia. A few I know to be operating from France, Germany, and Sweden.
A few channels have dropped out in the last few years. A few more have been hit with DCMA complaints and have been dropped from YouTube. If memory serves, those may have amounted to as many as forty million views between them. I did not take into consideration channels with under a hundred thousand views.
Among the remaining top seventy Croatian/Croatian friendly channels the views amount to about 300,000,000 since 2006. I've informally kept up with the top 20 or so channels for several years and I'm aware that the vast majority of those views have come in the last twenty-four to thirty months.
This sounds impressive until you realize one Korean fellow made one video with one song which has gone over a billion views. If you discount that one as a fluke it still sounds impressive until you look around just a little. As a "group" we've accomplished a lot but we have a long long way to go.
There was a time when all one needed was a killer song to get a lot of views. That's still important, but now it works best with a video which keeps the viewer "engaged" throughout the song. It is no longer sufficient just to have a lot of music on a channel and it is no longer sufficient to have a wonderful piece of music and a killer video although all that is important. Now it requires that the broadcaster continually "engage" the audience and it requires that we find ways to find and engage our potential audience. It also requires that we engage the performers and that we engage the companies which distribute the music.
Can I tell you how to do any of this? No I can't. I am still learning, but there is plenty of help. Lisa Irby has information on YouTube for us. You will have to follow your nose among her extensive information and you will have to adapt it to suit your style but her information is solid and a good place to start. Lisa also has a blog with a world of information on it for us. This isn't about promoting Lisa, this is about learning how to promote us and our performers. YouTube provides us some help also.
We have to out perform radio. We have to out perform Television. We may have to use FaceBook, Twitter, blogging of some sort, or whatever is available to us. Oh yes, we might even have to somehow use some radio and television along the way. We have to use every legitimate means at our disposal to accomplish this task.
We are broadcasters. We are DJ's at the party. We have a product to sell. That product is the music of our beloved Homeland and her singers where ever they are in the world. Its our job to sell this product and not the job of the performers and it is not the job of the Record Houses. The performers task is to compose and perform. The record companies job is to make the records and count the sales. We are the sales people.
We are closer to the people, we are closer to the market than anyone else could ever hope to be at this time. If we want to keep our jobs and continue to have access to the product, then we must succeed at our task. We must engage as many Croatians in Croatia and in the diaspora as we can. We must engage other people as well. The Japanese already know "U boj, U boj," so we have a good start on this project.
Along the way we must discover and help our performers know how to make a little money on the work we do to promote their efforts. The record houses must see an upswing in sales. We must put the music out there so people of all kinds want to hear it and want to buy it. That's the task.
Yes, we are competitors but we also have a common goal - our Homeland, our culture. We can either play around with this or we can get after it and have a great time doing it. Are you ready?
Za Dom, Spremni!!
do sljedeći put, blagoslov - until next time, blessings,
Alright. Here's the story. Near Hrad Topol'cianske was a pivovar, a brewery. They made beer there. They sang about it. This is the song they sang. They closed the pivovar. There is now no more beer from Topol'čianski.
So that's the end of the story. No!!! Not even close to the end of the story. To get to the end of the story, we have to find the front of the story. "Don't you mean that you have to find the beginning of the story? What's the matter for you? Don't you even speak English?" Alright. Have it your way. You find the beginning. I'm going to the front. You can come with me or not. Your choice it is.
To find the front, we must first learn something about the Vezérlő Fejedelem. After all, if you want to go to the front of the line, you must first find who is first in line. He is called the Fejedelem, the Prince. As you know of course, the word "Prince" means simply "the First." As it turns out, the Fejedelem in our story is the son of Rákóczi Ferenc and Jelena Zrinska. Jelena Zrinksa was the daughter of Petar Zrinski with whose neck the empire had had some interest. Jelena Zrinska was a neice of the Nikola Zrinski whose poetry placed the exploits of his ancestor Nikola Šubić Zrinski at Szigetvár against Suleiman the Magnificent into the hearts of every Croat in the all the world for all time. "U boj! u boj! ... Za dom! Spremne!"
The family lived at this time near Mukacheve around which the borders of the Ukrajna have been drawn since the Second World War - you know- there in Mala Polska. Look at the map, you can find it. During the battle of Trenčín, whose environs are visible from the ramparts of the Topol'čianski Rákóczi Ferenc's horse stumbled and he was knocked unconscious. His soldiers presumed his death and fled the field, ending the "Kurac" rebellion. As a result, the Hussites in Czech and Slovakia were at a fatal military disadvantage as were the Lutherans in Hungary and in Croatia, all of whom had supported the notion that the purpose of the state was to protect the people rather than the people to serve the state.
Oh, did I mention in here anywhere that all this began with the emperor suspending the constitution of the empire? Oh. Perhaps I should have.
Had Rákóczi's horse not stumbled, the chances are that Central Europe might have been mostly Protestant thereafter. One of the Croats who rode rode with Rákóczi from the Topol'čianski that day was my ancestor. Was he one of those who fled in panic? I would like to think not, but I don't know.
My ancestors on my father's side began arriving in America shortly after all this, during the period when the Hapsburg government was interested in the necks of almost every member of the family. Oh.
Topol'čianski Hrad was one of the strong points held by Rákóczi. It lays astride an ancient roadway leading from Krakova in the north to Bjelovar and on south to Tirana. It was the roadway by which many Bijelohrvati moved south over a period of time into that which is modern Croatia. It was the roadway by which merchandise, ideas, and the news traveled for many centuries. Those ancient travelers left their mark. Their path can be easily traced with the help of Google maps. At Bjelovar the road intersects with the ancient highway to Osijek, Novosad, and points east all the way to China. This was the ancient "Silk Road" which European mariners spent so much effort to replace with a more secure water highway with which the Ottoman's and others could not interfere.
There's more to the story. Important but little known history whispers through the breezes on the battlements of hrad Topol'čianski. If I have to, I will tell some of that history later. Freddy, you know who you are Freddy. I am going to give you a days to respond before I go public with what I dug up in the castle courtyard. I would much rather you told the story, but if I have to I will. You do not wish me to do that.
Just a few miles north of Hrad Topol'čianski is the pass where the Germans massed just prior to their invasion of Poland. Auschwitz lays just a few miles further, just off the old road to Krakova.
So why is an old Croat featuring a song called TOPOĽČIANSKE PIVO? Topolčianski is in Slovakia isn't it? Yup. It sure is. Hrad Topol'cianski was our castle. It was one of my family's castles. It was a Croatian Castle on a highway connecting Croatians in the north with Croatians in the south. The once mighty stari hrad is now a crumbling oddity. The once major highway across Europe is not even passable by automobile all the way up to the castle. The castle is crumbling. The Croats are gone as are others, all long gone, and now, so is the beer. Placem.
do sljedeći put, blagoslov - until next time, blessings,
Today when the typical older Amerikanski hears the word "rocket" the image that comes to his mind is about Niel Armstrong on the moon. His parents thought about "Buck Rogers" in the fictionalized stories about things that were yet to come in that time. In the 1960's in America there was a lot of talk about Werner Von Braun from Hitler's V2 rocket program who was now assisting the Americans in their "race for space."
Again, what comes to the mind of Amerikanski is words to his national hymn. O say, can you see, by the dawn's early light,
What so proudly we hail'd at the twilight's last gleaming?
Whose broad stripes and bright stars, thro' the perilous fight,
O'er the ramparts we watch'd, were so gallantly streaming?
And the rockets' red glare, the bombs bursting in air,
Gave proof thro' the night that our flag was still there.
O say, does that star-spangled banner yet wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave?
At the words "The rockets' red glare, the bombs bursting in air" there is moisture in the eyes of many patriotic Americans. In school the American is taught about how the Chinese supposedly invented rockets. There used to be a mention that Marco Polo brought this technology to the West, but of course there is no mention that Marco Polo was Croatian. Sigh.
There might be some mention about how the British attempted to use rockets in the 18th century. Of course their rockets were ineffective weren't they? The Americans won against them - right? So the school books skip ahead to the rockets of the invincible American military of the present time. There's little mention of William Congreve whose work was behind "the rockets' red glare" in the hymn.
The American never hears about Kazimierz Siemienowicz. I suppose its because his name is too long and too difficult to spell. I will be the first to admit that Казімір Семяновіч is much easier to spell in Belarusian than in Polish. The man literally wrote the book on rocketry in 1650. His "Artis Magnae Artilleriae pars prima" stood as the basic artillery manual for the next two hundred years.
Siemienowicz provided the standard designs for creating rockets, fireballs, and other pyrotechnic devices. It discussed for the first time the idea of applying a reactive technique to artillery. It contains a large chapter on caliber, construction, production and properties of rockets including multistage rockets, batteries of rockets, and rockets with delta wing stabilizers.
What on earth does Siemienowicz have to do with American Veteran's Day, Canadian Day of Remembrance, oh and by the way, Polish Independence Day on 11 November. Why would a Croat, especially a Texas Croat care about any of this?
The year was 1673. The game was on! The grad was Khotyn. Poland versus Ottomans. The odds are on an Ottoman victory. The Turks had won the year before. The Ottomans were invincible. They brought 120 of the most technologically advanced cannons to the battle at Khotyn. Jan Sobieski brought Siemienowicz and his rockets. The Ottoman's lost. Sobieski and Siemienowicz beat them again the next year at Vienna and the Ottoman's were forever excluded from Slovakia and Hungary. Croatia began to arise again. Poland began to recover from the Khmelnytsky disaster and the harsh period of the Swedish disaster during which Poland lost about one third of her population. The red glare of Siemienowicz rockets vaulted the Lion of Lechistan (as the Turks called Jan Sobieski) to the throne of Poland.
For a time Poland's fortunes were much much better. There were major advances toward democracy and Polish officers assisted the Americans in their struggle against monarchy. In that time Poland promulgated one of the world's first written constitutions, a document Potemkin derisively dismissed as "a contagion of democracy." The autocrats of Europe couldn't stand such a contagion. Armies marched and Poland began another long night of foreign domination.
According to many historians Poland ceased to exist then until 1918. Are they correct? I submit to you that these historians are incorrect. Poland existed, but where?
"Oh sure," you say, "Poland existed in the hearts and minds of the Polish people scattered around everywhere and in the hearts and minds of the Polish people under foreign rule." Yup. True enough. But there is more to the story than just that.
Let's start with Felix Wardzinski. One man. A soldier. A Polish soldier. A soldier in an army defeated by the Prussians and defeated by the Russians. A soldier in an army totally crushed. A soldier on the run for his life, Felix Wardzinski crossed the border into Galicia which at that time was controlled by the Hapsburg empire.
If the Hapsburg government had been faced with just one Felix Wardzinski that would have been the end of the story. Felix would have found a job and he would have settled down in his new homeland. That was not the case however, there were a lot of Felix Wardzinskis who crossed into Galicia.
Examine this scenario with me. Let's step inside the brain of the Austrian Crown for a moment. All these Felix Wardzinskis form up their units again inside Austrian territory and continue to strike at the foreign armies occupying their homeland. The Prussians use this as an excuse to strike at Galicia, or the Russians come to stop the raids into the territory they occupy. Either way, the Austro-Hungarian empire loses. The Hapsburg family has just lost Mexico in the Mexican revolution of 1825. Further loses to the family are ~ shudder ~ unthinkable.
The Austrians could just shoot these men and be done with it. That would set the Polish population in Galicia on edge. Galicia, Slovakia, Bohemia, Moravia, Czechy and - God forbid - Croatia might rise up. In short, the Austrian Crown might be left with only Austria. All that disaster over Felix Wardzinski, a defeated soldier, who may have had no idea he could be that important to the rise and fall of nations.
There is a way out for the Triple Crown. (What? You thought the "Triple Crown" was a horse race in Kentucky? Ha! Austria - Hungaria - Croatia, that's the Triple Crown.) There's a simple way out. "Felix, brate moj, where you want to go buddy?" The Triple Crown offered to furnish transportation to any place in the world these men might want to go as long as it was away from any where they could cause trouble to the Empire. "By the way, brate, there is a little thing going on in Teksas. A professional soldier might be appreciated there just now."
Problem solved!! The potential source of grief to the Austrian Crown is on his way to give grief to the Mexicans. Serves them right for breaking away from Hapsburg hegemony! Ha! A brilliant stroke!
Felix was on a boat from Austria to New York in a heartbeat. Ok ok, in as many heartbeats as it took to get Felix from Galicia to the nearest Austrian seaport. So now you are looking at a map and you are asking me where Austria had a seaport. Sigh. That's the same question my son-in-law asked me once. Slovenija, Istria, and Dalmacija were under the Triple Crown dear friend so Austria had a lot of access to the sea.
From New York, Felix found his way to New Orleans where he and a lot of other Felixes were met by a recruiter for the Teksas army which was being formed.
There were already Polski in Teksas. Napoleon had attempted to establish a French colony about where Liberty, Texas is now. The textbooks tell you that the French failed and that they withdrew. Yeah. That's true. The French officials withdrew. The colonists remained.
Simon Wiess was among those colonists. Simon was Polish. Simon was Jewish. Simon hooked up with my father's family and their little business about the Trinity River about which they were a long time discarding. I've already told part of that story elsewhere. Simon was a merchant, a trader. This Polish Jew knew all the roads, all the oxcart trails all the paths and all the waterways of any kind in eastern Texas. Like a true viking he knew how to use them too.
The sort of person who think Jews are all supposed sitting in their counting houses counting out their money are going to have trouble with this story. That kind of person will have difficulty with the picture of a Polish Jew in a coonskin hat, a hunting knife in his belt and a rifle on his shoulder sweaty from walking through the breeze-less forests in the weltering 100+ degree East Texas spring/summer/fall. This, however, is the true picture of Simon Wiess, a frontiersman and pioneer in Texas. We will come back to his role in the matter at hand in a few moments.
19th century Bosnia
19th century Texas
After the battle of the Alamo, the Teksikanski fought the Mexican centrist army at Goliad. Does the flag used by one regiment of the Refugio volunteers remind you of a familiar "Bosnian" ensign? It should. The Texas Hrvati were quietly out in force. They were not alone. Michael Dembinski, Michael Debicki, Francis Petrussewicz, Adolph Petrussewicz, John Kornicky, Joseph Schrusnecki and a lot of others fresh from Poland were right beside them.
Again they lost. Santa Ana gave Colonel Jose Nicolas de la Portilla orders to execute the prisoners. Today there is a monument to Colonel Fannin on that location. The Mexicans attempted to cover up the matter by burning the bodies and burning the records, so its not an easy task to find who all these heros were.
General Sam Houston continued to recruit and train an army to fight Santa Ana. They withdrew toward eastern Texas with Santa Ana in pursuit. Santa Ana's supply lines grew longer and longer and his troops suffered more and more. The soldiers under Sam Houston fared much better. At every river crossing they were met with fresh food, clothing, equipment, and other supplies brought by Simon Wiess.
There came a day when Santa Ana's troops were essentially cut off. They were resting, resting as much as a hungry army being devoured by hordes of mosquitoes can rest. Frederick Lemsky brought his flute to the front with him. Felix Wardzinski was there too in the Teksas army. The Teksikans struck up the tune "Come to the Bower" and began to "drill" right in front of their opposition. The Meksikans were entertained by the Teksikans in their rough clothing as they slouched into formation. No one payed any attention to the cannon which were being brought forward behind the ragged appearing group.
When they were at nearly point blank range, the Teksas army suddenly revealed how well trained and how professional they were. Instantly they stepped aside from the cannon. They formed a straight line with their rifles to their shoulders.
The cannon fired.
The rifles fired.
The shout went up "Zapamiętaj Goliad!" as the Polish army with bayonets fixed streamed across the Mexican position and drove them into the swamp where the alligators had a feast that day. That day the proud Polish army was vindicated as it vanquished tyranny. All the seething anger at Santa Ana for the murder of their brothers at Goliad flashed and flamed with a furious ferocity. All the pent-up anger they had for the Prussian Kaiser and for the Russian Czar burned fiercely for eighteen intense minutes during which the entire Mexican army was utterly destroyed. Felix Wardzinski has the satisfaction of being present when Santa Ana was captured.
Oh dear! Oh dear!! Now I've done it! I was supposed to say all on english "The shout went up 'Remember Goliad" as the Texas army with bayonets fixed .... Oh dear! What have I done? Well now, I told you Poland didn't cease to exist and I asked you "but where?" Here it was, a piece of Poland existed right here in plain view in Texas. Jeszcze Polska nie umarła!
What happened to the Polish soldiers who survived the war? Some of them melted quietly into the Slavic corners of Texas and went about the business of living. Some of them had other adventures. Last Sunday I had breakfast with the great-grandson of one of them. My friend's surname sounds Hispanic. What of it? He is proud of his ancestor who came from so far away bring liberty to this land.
What happened to Simon Wiess? One of his descendants married into a branch of my mother's family. Am I Jewish? Nope. Am I Polish? Nope. Am I proud of my shirt-sleeve relative who was both? Yup. Perhaps more of this story will be another adventure for another time.
In the video I made for this year, I used "Texas Our Texas," the traditional and now legal National Hymn of Texas along with the Polish National Hymn. The school books for the young people in Texas make no mention of these heroes from Poland who came at just the right time. I thought they should be honored. From their blood the flowers of freedom sprang.
The words to "Texas, Our Texas," written by William J. Marsh and Gladys Yoakum Wrightare:
Texas, Our Texas! all hail the mighty State!
Texas, Our Texas! so wonderful so great!
Boldest and grandest, withstanding ev'ry test
O Empire wide and glorious, you stand supremely blest.
(ref)
Texas, O Texas! your freeborn single star,
Sends out its radiance to nations near and far,
Emblem of Freedom! it set our hearts aglow,
With thoughts of San Jacinto and glorious Alamo.
(ref)
Texas, dear Texas! from tyrant grip now free,
Shines forth in splendor, your star of destiny!
Mother of heroes, we come your children true,
Proclaiming our allegiance, our faith, our love for you.
ref: God bless you Texas! And keep you brave and strong,
That you may grow in power and worth, throughout the ages long.
God bless you Texas! And keep you brave and strong, That you may grow in power and worth, throughout the ages long.
The Polish National Hymn: Mazurek Dąbrowskiego - Dąbrowski's Mazurka, also called Pieśń Legionów Polskich we Włoszech Song of the Polish Legions in Italy or Jeszcze Polska nie zginęła Poland has not yet perished :
Jeszcze Polska nie umarła,
Kiedy my żyjemy
Co nam obca moc wydarła,
Szablą odbijemy.
Marsz, marsz, Dąbrowski Do Polski z ziemi włoskiej Za twoim przewodem Złączym się z narodem
Jak Czarniecki do Poznania
Wracał się przez morze
Dla ojczyzny ratowaniaPo szwedzkim rozbiorze.
Marsz, marsz...
Przejdziem Wisłę, przejdziem Wartę
Będziem Polakami
Dał nam przykład Bonaparte
Jak zwyciężac mamy
Marsz, marsz...
Niemiec, Moskal nie osiędzie,
Gdy jąwszy pałasza,
Hasłem wszystkich zgoda będzie
I ojczyzna nasza
Marsz, marsz...
Już tam ojciec do swej BasiMówi zapłakany
Słuchaj jeno, pono nasi
Biją w tarabany
Marsz, marsz...
Na to wszystkich jedne głosy
Dosyć tej niewoli
Mamy racławickie kosy
Kościuszkę Bóg pozwoli.
on english this is: Poland has not yet died,
So long as we still live.
What the alien power has seized from us,
We shall recapture with a sabre. March, march, Dąbrowski,
To Poland from the Italian land.
Under your command
We shall rejoin the nation.
Like Czarniecki to Poznań
Returned across the sea
To save his homeland
After the Swedish occupation. March, march...
We'll cross the Vistula and the Warta,
We shall be Polish.
Bonaparte has given us the example
Of how we should prevail. March, march...
The German nor the Muscovite will settle
When, with a backsword in hand,
"Concord" will be everybody's watchword
And so will be our fatherland. March, march...
A father, in tears,
Says to his Basia
Listen, our boys are said
To be beating the tarabans.
March, march...
All exclaim in unison,
"Enough of this slavery!"
We've got the scythes of Racławice,
God will give us Kościuszko.
Texas is not the only North American nation who should give thanks to God for Poland. The Americans also should give thanks to God for Kościuszko who so greatly assisted in their revolution.
hrabrivojnici izkrvi slobodecvijet
do sljedeći put, blagoslov - until next time, blessings,
I awakened this morning long before the Danica opened the gates of the Dažbog's palace so it was still dark dark dark outside. CJ was not awake and so I prepared my coffee in silence and came to the computer to continue to reply to the comments on Eva and Vašek's "Krásné s tebou". There were rather a lot of them so it was going to take a while.
I soon realized that the comments and thus my responses were going to be in about fifteen different languages. Someday we Slavs really need to think about developing a language in common among us besides english, but ... we are the way we are. A lot of folks in the West don't understand that we pretty much have a new language every fifty miles and its still really all some kind of Slavic somehow. So I was faced with about fifteen languages including portuguese, spanish, and english. There were a couple of comments which I could read and respond to but I would really be hard pressed to tell you what language in which those were actually written - they were some sort of south Slavic I think, but who knows what.
So. I began to work. Its a work of joy for me. I love all my fans where ever you are from. You are all a bunch of really nice people who encourage one another and who try to build up and support one another. We are an international community the way an international community should be - a community filled with love for one another. Hmmm, Jesus said something about that somewhere ... It is true that there are some ancient hurts here and there. I've written about some of those. While these are real matters which aren't going away soon, my final word on everything is "glazba, ne rat." Music, not war.
Anyway, I began to work. But soon I realized I wasn't accomplishing much. The silence was over bearing. CJ was sound asleep and I didn't want to disturb her. But the silence was crushing. I wanted to hear her voice. I needed to hear her voice. I longed to hear her voice. "Scházíš mi lásko" came to mind. I found it in my collection of music and began to see the slikopsis that need to accompany it.
There are a few of the photos perhaps I should explain. The first picture you encounter - the sun rising over the field of flowers could be almost anywhere in the polje south of Blanco, Texas in the springtime. The second picture with the gate and the sunrise could easily have been the gate to our little house in Blanco in the 1950's. The road leading away from the viewer is very much like some of the roads in the hills in that region when I was a child.
The next picture I stole outright from Sylvester, whom, ummm some of you know on YouTube and on Facebook. The man is an amazing photographer. His shot of the creek looks amazingly like a creek I once played near in the Blanco area. The very next picture is from the Blanco river near Wimberly Texas, another place I fished and hung around as a young person. The photo following that one was taken near Blansko in Moravia. If you begin comparing the terrain, you see that the locations are very similar. Both are on karst containing a lot of caves. Where the deer came from is a mystery but there were plenty in the Blanco area all the time. The butterfly creatures are Balkan/Carpathian pure and simple.
After the two cuddling birds the landscapes alternate between Blanco and Blansko until you get to the house which is the Blanco area. The interior view of the house I believe is from Blansko. The church could either be the baptist church as I remember it in Blanco or the Catholic church in Blansko, Moravia, take your pick. They both look pretty much alike.
We talked about why I would make these particular choices for a video by Eva and Vašek last time. The little Texas town has its roots both in Moravia and in Slovenia with a few Surf's Up Indians thrown in for good measure. By the time I came along, most of the young people with boys in the second grade were anglos so I was the lone mohican if you will. That had its drawbacks, and that had its special pleasures too, which I have previously talked about.
So as it happens, a man who was longing for his dear while she slept, prepared a song which expresses deep longing. In fact, it was just about ready when CJ awakened this morning.
The tekst on Czech is: Jak ránem procitám a probouzí mě chlad
mé srdce je zlomené,tak prázdné se zdá.
Jak dlouho budem každý sám,proč kapek deště ptát se mám
jak dlouho tě nespatřím, ptám se jich, ptám.
Refren
Scházíš mi lásko čím dál víc,smutek můj je bez hranic.
věčně živý v mých vzpomínkách zůstaneš.
Scházíš mi lásko čím dál víc,smutek můj je bez hranic.
Slzami se ptám jak moc ti scházím já.
Na polštář stékají, mé soužení však nezmění. Večer se tvé fotky ptám,když v slzách usínám
proč mám strach zase ráno vstát
kdy tě spatřím se ptám
my interpretation on english is approximately: As I awaken in the cool of the morning
My heart is aching, it seems so empty.
How long all of us like this, why drops of rain I ask
how long you I not see, I ask them, I ask. Miss you my love more and more, my longing is boundless.
forever alive in my thinking remain.
Miss you love you more and more, my longing is boundless.
Tears, I ask how many tears I meet
Run down on the pillow, my but does not change my pain In the evening, I ask your photos when I fall asleep in tears
But why should I fear in the morning to get up again
when you want to see me
So, now you know what was on my mind when I did this video:
Embrace the finches!
Happy misdeeds! Canovals a.k.a. Slavonac
The duo Václav a Eva Ševčíkovi are successful Czech musical performers whose repertoire consists largely of older music including dechovka, folk, country, pop, and so forth which have long been popular among Czechs. Besides their own compositions, they also sing Christmas Carols and music from Croatia.
Václav was born 6 December 1953 in Brno. At the present they live in Blansko about 19 miles north of Brno. There one may find a statue commemorating the Battle of Zborov on 2 July 1917 in which the Czech Legions appeared for the first time. I once lived in a Texas town named for this town in Moravia. Blanco, Texas is not named for the Spanish word "white", as some people suppose, but after Blansko from which its founders came to Texas. I have fond memories of the town. Kind of makes Václav and Eva seem a bit like vicarious kids from my own backyard.
Eva and Vasek's CD "Jadranska," which they sang with Inga was released in 2003. Some critics accuse the couple of low musical and artistic quality but their fans and their financial success tells altogether a different story.
Krásné s tebou žít (Life with you is beautiful) is a romantic song based on "Vela Luka" made famous by Oliver Dragojević who was himself a native of Vela Luka. One place on the internet bills Vela Luka as the town made famous by the romantic song. "Vela Luka" is actually based on a song by Ahlert, "Where the blue of the night meets the gold of the day," made famous by Bing Crosby (whose wife was native to West Columbia, Texas which is where the Conoco Phillips refinery at Sweeny isn't). Ahlert's song in turn was based on "Amenecer glorioso" (Glorious Morning)an earlier work by C.A. Blackstone who between the mid 1800's to the mid 1900s. In any of the forms which the song has taken it has remained beautiful and romantic.
All day today I have been feeling a romantic glow light all around and so here for you is a touch of my feelings.
I remember the day it was time for me to report to the U.S. Air Force induction depot. That was so very long ago. I knew there was quite a trip ahead of me to the training base so I had some reading material in my pockets: a New Testament, and "The Fire Next Time" by James Baldwin.
"The Fire Next Time" is really two essays - "My Dungeon Shook — Letter to my Nephew on the One Hundredth Anniversary of Emancipation," and "Down At The Cross — Letter from a Region of My Mind." In the book, Baldwin says “A vast amount of the Negro problem is the white man’s profound desire not to be judged by those who are not white, not to be seen as he is." That rang a bell with me.
We've talked before about how it could be dangerous in those days to admit one's Croatian ancestry. I could easily substitute in my head the words "A vast amount of the Croat problem is the anglo's profound desire not to be judged by those who are not anglo, not to be seen as he is." Hmmmm, different but similar life experiences.
Baldwin also said "We are controlled by our confusion, far more than we know, and the American dream has therefore become something much more closely resembling a nightmare, on the private, domestic, and international levels. Privately, we cannot stand our lives and dare not examine them; domestically, we take no responsibility for (and no pride in) what goes on in our country; and, internationally for many millions of people, we are an unmitigated disaster." I didn't see that as a "Black" issue, but a wide spread issue becoming woven deep into the fabric of the country.
I was almost finished with the book when the bus arrived at the training facility. The sergeant was Black and he was so very courteous at first. "Empty your pockets please gentlemen," the man said, so I did. Everyone did. Men who had brought pocket knives and such were promptly relieved of those things. The sergeant stopped and looked at my New Testament and my James Baldwin book and a frown furrowed on his forehead. He looked me up and down. "I'll have to take these," he said, "You are a thinker and that's not allowed here," and that was that.
A line from the song "Oh Mary don't you weep, don't you mourn" was the source of the title of Baldwin's book.
God gave Moses the rainbow sign
No more water, but fire next time. The title of his first essay came from another couplet The very moment I thought I was lost
The dungeon shook and the chains fell off.
I was familiar with the song because me and my friends we sang the song in the fields and in the churches. The choir at Riverside Baptist over on Wheeler Avenue in Houston, Texas could really belt it out all swaying with the music and everything.
Oh Mary, don't you weep, don't you mourn
Oh Mary, don't you weep, don't you mourn.
Pharoah's army got drownded
Oh Mary don't you weep.
If I could I surely would
Stand on the rock where Moses stood.
Pharoah's army got drownded
Oh Mary don't you weep.
Mary wore three links of chain
Every link was Jesus' name.
Pharoah's army got drownded
Oh Mary don't you weep.
One of these nights about 12 o' clock
This old worlds going to reel and rock.
Pharoah's army got drownded
Oh Mary don't you weep.
God told Moses what to do
To lead the Hebrew children through.
Pharoah's army got drownded
Oh Mary don't you weep.
Moses stood on the red sea shore
Smotin' the water with a two by four.
Pharoah's army got drownded
Oh Mary don't you weep.
God gave Moses the rainbow sign
No more water, but fire next time. Pharoah's army got drownded
Oh Mary don't you weep.
Mary wore three links of chain
Every link was Jesus name.
Pharoah's army got drownded
Oh Mary don't you weep.
The very moment I thought I was lost
The dungeon shook and the chains fell off. Pharoah's army got drownded
Oh Mary don't you weep.
Anyway, "The Fire Next Time" came to mind today when the Texas Forest Service revealed this morning that as of today 3.8 million acres of land had been burned so far in the fires in Texas this year. Let's work out what this means. Montenegro has about 3.4 million acres. More land in Texas has been burned away than a whole country. Croatia has a little over 13 million acres so a space equivalent to thirty six per cent of Croatia has been burned away in Texas. That's about thirteen percent of Serbia including the Vojvodinja which has been burned away. If you just look at the Vojvodinija by itself that's about 60 percent of that place up in smoke and its a space about half the size of Bosnia or Kosovo more or less. Got the picture? The fires in Texas have burned vast areas this year.Pick a Balkan country - any Balkan country and fires of this magnitude would have be devastating. Aren't you glad I didn't pick Cheech and Chong's "Up in Smoke" to illustrate my thoughts and feelings about all this? Here is some one's version of "Mary Don't You Weep"
do sljedeći put, blagoslov - until next time, blessings,
"Then there came along some Yids, and when they saw the fire, came up to the children and asked them what they were doing there and whether there was anyone with them, and when the children had told them what and how, the Yids told them to go along with them, saying that they would have a fine time at their house. The children agreed and went with the Yids, and the Yids took them to their house. They didn't have anyone else at home, only their mother, and when they came home, they shut the boy up to get fat and made the girl a servant to their mother. One day, when the boy had been well fed and was fat, the Yids went out on some errand and told their mother to roast him, and then when they came home in the evening from their work, they would eat him..."
We hear this story from Vuk Stefanovic Karadzic in "Civuti", Srpske narodne pripovjetke, ("Yids" in "Serbian folk tales") 1853.
From "O jevrejskom pitanju u Srbiji" ("The Jewish question in Serbia") which Nikola Jovanovic wrote back in August 1878 we hear: "...Europe has forced the Hebrews on us for us to grant them in our country all the rights that we have acquired and enjoy. But that the Jews or any non-Serb elements should have the same right as those native to Serbia, we challenge and deny." Ten to twelve percent of the population of the territory of Serbia were Croats, who, in other words, as non-Serbian elements, along with Jews and Roma and Vlaks and whoever else was there, were to have no rights according to this fellow.
At the opening of the twentieth century, Milan Obradovic, a Serb journalist in Bjelovar wrote a pamphlet entitled: "How the Jews have for forty years deceived the wretched and ignorant Croats, that they are Croats of the Mosaic faith and thus have enslaved them, frustrated them politically, sucked them dry materially, cramming all the Croatian money into their own tills and pockets."
Bjelovar. This fellow lived in Bjelovar which is in Croatia and yet he writes: "wretched and ignorant Croats?" Uh huh. Jup, that's what what he wrote. Just a dumb question - if I'm a non-Serbian element not worth of rights in Serbia, what is this Serbian fellow doing in MY HOME, in the region of my ancestors? Explain to me this, please. I'm not angry about him being there, but please explain to me this. I don't understand.
What does this have to do with the music of Croatia? It has a lot to do with our music. Where is the music today from our "Mosaic Croatian brothers"? Where is it? Can I hear this music to make up my own mind do I like it or not? Play this music please. I wish to hear it just to know how it sounds. Why do I not have this freedom to hear this poetry and this music played and sung by my "Mosiac Croatian brothers." Who took this freedom away from me? I thought I was free, but, maybe not. Not yet.
The Englishman on BBC during the Homeland War said something along the lines of 'They bomb our graveyards, they bomb our churches, they bomb our orphanages, they bomb our libraries as if to erase any knowledge that we ever existed.' If I don't have it word for word exactly as he said it, please don't raise a fuss, you know it was words very much like those and the facts were very much like those words. At every holiday and every memorial day we run around yelling and writing "Ne zaboravite!" (No forget).
No forget. Don't forget. But we have already forgotten.
It's like someone has chopped off your arm with an axe. Then they swing the axe at your head but they don't succeed in chopping off your head. So then, you go around saying "I will never forget!, Ne zaboravite. Nikada" when you talk about the strike aimed at your head, but you don't miss your arm. You've already forgotten all about your arm.
We have have forgotten.
As long as we have forgotten, the men who declared that we Croats, as "non-Serb elements" should have no rights, as long as we have forgotten, the men who called us "wretched and ignorant", have won. They have won and we do not have our country back. As long as we have forgotten, we are not yet free. Worse, as long as we have forgotten, they are right, we are wretched and ignorant.
We must remember. We cannot to forget. We must not to forget.
Sviraj, moj brat, sviraj. kad čujem vaša glazba svira, ja ću biti slobodan.
Ne zaboravite. Nikada!
Play, my brother, play. When I hear your music playing, I will be free.
Don't forget. Never!
do sljedeći put, blagoslov - until next time, blessings,
CJ, Clary, Cider, and Guinness, and Theodore and Teddy all remembered my birthday in a special way this year. I liked that. The youngest daughter did too. I liked that too. So did a lot of my old classmates from high school years ago. Marijan and Marina and Tatanja and Andrej and Gregor and a bunch of others from Home came by to say for sretan rodjendan too. Altogether there may have been a hundred or so well wishers for my sixty-fifth birthday. Nice. Mucho dobro.
My parent's daughter sent a card in which she commented on the photo I was using for whatever reason as my Facebook profile at the time. She said "I see you have been fishing." Yup. Mmmm hmmm, I was impressed. She wanted me to believe she was keeping abreast of my life. She had been there three years ago Gospodin M. and I had stopped in for a few days with Tata before we wandered off to the Sabine pass where a boat was waiting for us. A few weeks later a hurricane had struck the area we passed through. No more little coastal fishing towns, no more boat.
After the hurricane, all that remained of that little expedition were the memories, some memories of what came next (about which you already may have read in my last blog) and that blooming photograph of me and that fish. I did not even have my beard back yet in that photo. I was clean shaven at that time which in my clan means I was "available." I am fully bearded now.
Now look what I have done. I wandered off the trail out into the forest somewhere so let's get us back on the trail. The youngest daughter married with a really fine fellow. He only had one flaw that I could find. Sometimes he would poke my ribs a little about me being Croatian. His family were Austrian, you see, the master race, at least the masters of Croatia in the Hapsburg days. There was only thing, he said, that he could not understand. He knew his family had come from a town in Austria with a seaport, but as far as he could tell, Austria is landlocked. How could his family have come from an Austrian seaport town when there are not any. I asked him what is name of their city. He responded, "Split." Mystery solved. I showed him where on the map is Split. Of course, its right there in plain view on the map - on the Jadrana in Croatia.
When his family had arrived in Texas, their passport showed that they were from the Österreichisch-ungarisches Reich - or simply Austria on Texicaneese. That's a language I haven't mentioned before - its the english that Teksikanski speak when they are not speaking on teksikanski jezik. Until after World War I, most Croats arriving in Texas came on papers from the Austro-Hungarian Empire and so they were often just called Austrians.
After World War I, things changed. Their paper work said these new immigrants were from "Yugoslavia." It didn't do anyone any good to try to say "I am Croatian." The average Teksikan looked at the map and there was no Croatia anywhere to be found. He might however however find "Yugoslavia." Please understand that most Texans can find the nearest Walmart and that is about the extent of their geographical knowledge.
I graded papers for a professor at Concordia University, Austin. There was one question always on his final examinations - "The capitol of the Roman Empire was a. Berlin b. Moscow c. Philadelphia d. Rome e. none of the above, please circle the correct answer." The vast majority of his students chose anything but "Rome" for the capitol of the Roman Empire. So where was a Croatian from? Even if someone said "I am Croatian," behind his back people said "he's from somewhere in Yugoslavia. Most Croatians who arrived in North America just shrugged their shoulders and said "we are from "Yugoslavia."
How did Croatians come to be submerged in "Yugoslavia?" Before the fall of Austria, Hungary, or Germany, the Croatian Sabor or Parliament met in Zagreb on October 29, 1918, to declare "the Kingdom of Croatia, Slavonia and Dalmatia" to be a free and independent state. The Hapsburg Crown recognized Croatia and transferred the fleet to the Croatian government on October 31st 1918. At 18:44 the following day the Royal Italian Navy sank the Croatian dreadnaught Viribus Unitis. Almost at once the Italian, French and French African forces invaded from the west and Serbian troops invaded from the east. On the first of December 1918, Serbian Prince Alexander announced the formation of the Kingdom of Serbs, Croats and Slovenes ruled from Belgrade. For the first time in at least thirteen centuries, the traditional Croatian institutions of Ban and Sabor were swept away by foreign armies bent on making Croatia and Croatians disappear from the face of the earth.
The American delegation to the Paris Peace talks in 1919 commented on the revision of Wilson's famous Fourteen Points noting that "An internal problem arises out of the refusal of the Croats to accept the domination of the Serbs of the Serbian Kingdom...The United States is clearly committed to the programme of national unity and independence. It must stipulate, however, for the protection of national minorities...it supports a programme aiming at a Confederation of Southeastern Europe." In other words, to protect the Croatian nation it was necessary to destroy it. There was no vote of the Croatian people about their future.
Milan Sufflay was murdered by King Alexander's secret police. Albert Einstein and Heinrich Mann joined in the international chorus of condemnation of the regime. The New York Times of May 6, 1931 quotes them: "The facts show that cruelty and brutality practiced upon the Croatians only increase... Murder as a political weapon must not be tolerated and political Serbian murderers must not be made national heroes." Just two years before Stjepan Radic had been publicly murdered by a deputy of the Serbian parliament and Alexander had outlawed political parties and begun the persecution of the Jews and Roma in the lands he controlled. By August 1942, the Serbian government would proudly announce that Belgrade was the first city in the New Order to be Judenfrei or "free of Jews." Only 1,115 of Belgrade's twelve thousand Jews would survive.
After the communists left in the 1990s, mass graves were uncovered in Slovenia and in Croatia. Hundreds of thousands had been butchered and their bodies hidden. Neither the Russians nor the British nor the Americans wanted these graves found but the voice of the truth welled up from the caverns in the midst of the earth. So then, who are the "Yugoslavs?" I suppose they are the mythical denizens of a mythical land somewhere in Thackeray's "Rose and the Ring."
Jugoslavia isn't. Croatia is. Its that simple.
do sljedeći put, blagoslov - until next time, blessings,
