When we entered Rijeka the third largest city in Croatia and the closest large city to where my great grandparents lived it immediately reminded me a lot of Tacoma. Rijeka is a large industrial city on the water with a huge port, oil refinery, and shipbuilding factory. The buildings in Rijeka and the surrounding area are the most European looking out of all of the cities I have visited in Croatia. This area has a slight European feel as it is very close to both Italy and Slovenia, is a vacation location for many Germans, Austrians, and Slovenians, and the area was under Austrian Hungarian rule at one point.
Our time in the Rijeka area was absolutely wonderful full of many surprises and unforgettable experiences. As many know I have wanted to visit Croatia for a long time to see where some of my family was from and to meet some relatives that we had lost touch with.
The first surprise came our first evening in town when we were walking back from dinner to our hotel. I noticed a family staring at us and then they started calling my father's name. I was the only one paying attention and was very confused on how anyone would know my father's name so I kept walking. They finally got my fathers attention and it was in fact two sets of his cousins. We had told them we were coming to town and where we were staying so they came to greet and surprise us. There were some tears shed and we were all surprised to see each other after over 30 years without any recent communication. This greeting and surprise was only the beginning.
The following day we picked up our translator and set out for a full day of greeting family and investigating our roots. The morning was spent with family and the most common word heard in the air was "I can't belive this", "incredible" and "super". Obviously not all in English. The afternoon we set out to the small village of Kukuljani. The village is in a valley where the river that runs to Rijeka (and gives the city the name) begins. The vilallage is very small with a few houses and some farm land. Soon after entering the village we began talking to three men who lived in the town. Their hands were warn and dark from hard work in the fields and around the house. They were thrilled and surprised to see American Kukuljanis in the town. They invited my father (the country is male dominant) in for homemade grapa (a type of strong alcohol with herbs). I came in to take a picture of the men and had a small sip of the grapa; my throat might still be burning from this. As we walked down the street and spoke with locals you could see heads poking out of doors and windows to see just who we were and what the commotion was all about. It was wonderful speaking with a number of locals and experiencing a small bit of this village. What a wonderful opportunity to see where my family came from and now whenever I hear my lastname Ill think of the village.
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