Life as a Flea

If you ever go to Croatia, bring sunglasses. Zadar is a bike reflector, and the sun’s high beams are always on. Everything is white – buildings, arches, cobblestones. If it’s not white, it’s peach, a color that catches the sun as ardently as the fruit. That's not the only reason this city sparkles, though. Zadar is like a millionaire’s mansion where the furniture only gets touched by the maid, who cleans it every other day. If I dropped a piece of pizza in a gutter here, I’d consider picking it up and finishing it anyway. The streets are dangerously slippery, like they’re freshly mopped with lemon pledge.

Zadar is three thousand years old, but its true grandeur lies in its quaintness. Streets are lined with women crocheting baby clothes and blankets, (all shades of white, of course). Displays of herbal sachets saturate the air with their lavendar and rosemary perfume at every shop, so the streets smell like a quaint Mediterranean cottage whose owner is a cute old lady in a white crocheted shawl serving olives and tea in tiny porcelain tea cups, also sold at the gift shops. Speaking of size, everyone is very tall here. I had to stand on my toes to read the signs advertising beer in English: “Karlovacko – Speak the language Croatians understand.” Their advertising must have been flawed since I drank mojitos almost every night.

It was late afternoon as we approached what resembled a very wide, white-tiled boat dock. Faint music came from ahead. My feet lead me toward it mechanically, as though under an enchantment. The music increased in volume until it enveloped me in soothing ambient music with no formula – a single instrument like the vocals of a peaceful singing whale. “What is that sound..?”

“Pipes in the water underneath us,” Matthieu said. “The waves of the sea flow through them and create diatonic sound.” I lost myself in angel songs composed by the Adriatic Sea. The waves’ music was an ethereal soundtrack to the quiet people meandering in slow motion. The undulating sea shone like the sun had thrown glitter over the water to make the dance even more enchanting. Everything felt lulled, slowed down.

I jumped into the water. I could still hear the orchestra as I floated to the cement steps at the end of the runway. They were painted in soft, slippery sea moss. I sat on the bottom step, half my body still immersed in the warm salty sea, like a mermaid on her velvet throne. That night, the echo of heavenly diatonic sea music lulled me to sleep.