Margaret Chan provides the first of many installments covering her travels and experienes throughout Croatia. Read on...

Saturday was the first sunny day we’d had in more than a week. In the sun, it was almost warm enough to sit outside for a coffee, and so we did. So did half of Zagreb.

My sister-in-law, her boyfriend and I meet at 1:00pm for a coffee. It’s my first official Saturday coffee since moving to Zagreb in July from Queens, New York. Our rendezvous next to the bookstore at the main square – the default meeting place for most Zagreb natives – kicks off the first part of their Saturday ritual. We swiftly set out to find a table in the sun, which proves to be no small feat.

By 1:30pm, we manage to get a table. Such luck! Unfortunately, our excitement is quickly dampened by the long wait to order and the realization that it isn’t so warm after all. Sensing my impatience, my sister-in-law suggests apologetically that we go to another café. “No, no, it’s ok. I’m used to the speedy Zagreb service by now” I answer sarcastically. Her boyfriend, a proud Zagreb native, more so than my sister-in-law, insists that we stay. “Ah, it’s normal…there are so many tables but only one waiter, and he has to go upstairs for everything, what can you do?”

When our lukewarm coffees finally arrive, gloves and scarves have already been put back on. Shivering, I enviously notice that most of the people around us betray no signs of being cold. And many of them are not even in the sun. In fact, they look as they always do sitting at a café on a Saturday – poised and primed for display. Women made up and men well-coiffed, many dressed in the fashionable equivalent of Sunday clothes and dancing shoes. From my seat, I can see a crowd of twenty-somethings mingling in front of Bulldog, a currently “in” café. Some of them look like they’ve just finished a fashion photo shoot. There they stand, waiting for a table, waiting to be seen.

“Being seen” has two meanings in Zagreb. First and foremost, it implies to be seen looking one’s best by the general public, as exemplified by the Bulldog crowd. Secondly, it means to be seen by friends, since one will inevitably run into a number of friends and acquaintances. Every five minutes an arm rises to wave from our table, a head nods to a passerby, an acquaintance approaches to say hello, or a friend pulls up a chair to join us. During these coffee sessions, people gossip, catch up with one another, discover the latest Zagreb fashion, exchange ideas, meet friends of friends, gripe about life in Croatia, or simply sit and “steal God’s days”, as the Croatian saying goes.

While the young Croats chain-smoke and banter over coffee in the city’s concentration of cafés, situated on the south side of the main square, their mothers shop at Dolac, the biggest open market in Zagreb, located on the north side of the square. Many women, and even a few men, customarily spend their Saturday mornings (maybe after early coffees with their friends) at Dolac, buying groceries for the weekly Saturday family lunch and for the week to come.

My mother-in-law once took me on a tour of Dolac. In the open section, we found the freshest and the most scrumptious fruits and vegetables, dairy products, real farm eggs, and all kinds of grains and dried goods. Islanders and villagers from the coast congregated on the northern edge, while villagers from the inland dominated the rest of the market. The adjoining indoor market was full of domestic and imported seafood, fresh and frozen. The butchers in the underground section boasted a greater variety of meat than I could identify: beef (from old and young cows), veal, pork, horse meat, lamb meat, goat meat, turkey, chicken, duck, rabbit, as well as iznutrica, or “everything from the inside”. Croatia isn’t known as a meat-loving country for nothing. Near the butchers, stands offered dangling sausages and dried meat in all shades of red, basins of sauerkraut, delicious mounds of olives, and colorful jars of pickled items. The adjacent section housed a copious assortment of cheeses and more dairy products than I knew existed. By the end of the tour, my mother-in-law duly suggested that I make Dolac a weekly destination.

Well, I never quite succeeded in following the Zagreb homemaker regime to pay Dolac a weekly visit. Something else always claims priority. This past Saturday, my reason was coffee.

Our coffee outing ends around 3:00 pm when I notice that we are the only clients lingering. The city seems to have emptied out in a coordinated manner. The café crowd has dispersed and mothers have gone home to prepare the weekly three-course lunches. Young Croats migrate willingly and habitually from café tables to dining tables where eager parents and marathon feasts await them. The family lunch means a few precious hours of uninterrupted time parents get to spend with their children. For the next few hours, life in Zagreb will be concentrated in dining rooms, where families gather for their weekly lunch – the second part of their Saturday ritual.

Week after week, year after year, their Saturday ritual remains.

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Margaret Chan is a 29-year old Internet wizard/Travel Correspondant for 1-42. Having recently moved to Zagreb, Croatia with her husband Otis, Margaret keeps us posted with monthly updates about her experiences living life with Croats and their culture.