CLICK HERE to the see all the pictures
CLICK HERE to the see all the pictures
By Alex Cote
I stretched my head out of the window because the balloons took up the majority of the back seat. We were in a unison of cars driving into the Old Town of Dubrovnik, each car with a bow on the rear-view mirror. The repetitive sound of obnoxious honking turned into a distant lull after the first 10 minutes. Tourists stopped in their tracks and cocked their heads in curiosity, wondering what was this scene before them. The locals smiled at us, because they knew.
We all parked and headed into the Old Town, following the man waving the massive Croatian flag. There wasn’t much time to ask questions, so I followed the crowd, who seemed like they had all practiced this previously. The accordion and mandolin were complemented by singing and six-inch stilettos clacking against the polished cobblestones.
Our crowd suddenly stopped and cleared. Tourists gathered from all different directions, pointing and clapping: the groom and bride joined hands on Stradun with the ancient walled city as their backdrop.
It was my first Croatian wedding, and I happened to be the only American in the wedding party. I couldn’t help but absorb every morsel of this vibrant festivity. Between the Croatian flag and traditional music, I found that marriage was not the only bond being commemorated. Croatian weddings are also a celebration of shared culture, heritage, and history.
First let me start off by saying that Croatian weddings are a week-long celebration with various sub-events. The ceremony and reception took place on Saturday, but a pre-wedding party at the bride’s house began on Wednesday.
I could hear the music from down the street, and many other Croatians observed from their balconies. The minute I walked in the door I was surrounded by roughly 20 people who were linked in arms while spinning, laughing and cheering. Suddenly I was swept up into the cluster, and before I knew it I was dancing with a stranger.
This was the first time I was meeting Eli, the bride-to-be, yet her and her family immediately made me feel right at home. Within two minutes someone already brought me a drink, and I was kissing the cheeks of the extended family members.
Following the dancing and singing was the dinner, despite that it was already 11:30 p.m. The table was covered with finger food, such as prosciutto, cheese, olives, tomatoes, beef, and potatoes. More dancing and singing were to follow.
On Thursday night a similar celebration took place, instead at the groom’s house, Marco, with his side of the family. The house was filled with the familiar smell of prosciutto, cheese, and wine while a Croatian band provided the entertainment. Song after song, it seemed like every single person knew the lyrics by heart, except me. I asked Domeniko how to dance to these songs, and he said to just put my hands up in the air and sway side to side. As soon as I did this, everyone started laughing and cheering.
The festivities stretched into the late hours, and had me wondering how these people can keep up. I suppose that’s why they took Friday to rest for the big day.
I was told to be ready to leave the house at 12:45 p.m and that we likely wouldn’t be back until 5 a.m. I packed a change of shoes, toiletries, and extra snacks, but somehow didn’t feel at all prepared for the extended adventure in front of me.
Unlike most American weddings, the celebration does not start with the ceremony. In Croatia, it is tradition to visit the houses of the groom’s family and the bride’s family beforehand, a pregame to the Catholic ceremony, if you will.
We started at Marco’s house, and the set-up was similar to the other celebrations with more finger food, traditional Croatian music, and a full bar. The house had a spectacular view, quite possibly the best of Old Town I’ve ever seen.
Suddenly the quaint apartment was filled with people who appeared to be going to a red Carpet event. Women were wearing long gowns and cocktail dresses, decorated with eyelash extensions, manicures, and bright lips. It became clear to me that weddings could easily be perceived as a fashion show here in Dubrovnik. I suddenly felt slightly under-dressed in my sundress and beach-wavy hair.
We then moved to Eli’s house, which was already filled with her closest friends and family. Marco went to go see Eli before any of us, which is typical for most Croatian weddings. Meanwhile, a group of men, including Domeniko, waved flares and a large Croatian flag before entering her house (part 1 of 2 of flares in the wedding). Her house was filled with even more food, wine, and people dancing to Croatian music.
Abruptly it was time to go to the ceremony, and everyone got into their cars like they knew the drill. Leading the pack was the man waving the flag out the car window with a line of at least 20 cars honking, a gesture in Croatia that says “Someone’s getting married today!” We made our way to Stradun for an epic entrance into the Old Town.
The ceremony itself was the shortest part of the celebration, but perhaps the most moving. We gathered inside the church of St. Blaise, which is a monumental symbol of Dubrovnik history. I was mesmerized by the incredible detail of each ceiling crevice while I thought of all the other weddings that must have been here throughout history. Eli walked down the Aisle to “Ave Maria”, and the 40-minute Catholic service was completely in Croatian. I noticed as tourists trickled in to watch from the side doors, but no one seemed to care.
After the ceremony, we joined the rest of the wedding guests by lining up to give our best wishes to the newlyweds. Domeniko told me to kiss the cheeks of each family members and say “cestitam”. Following this was a traditionally epic exit filled with cheering, singing, and part 2 of 2 of the fire sticks. As you can imagine, even more tourists flocked to this sight.
The reception took place at President Dubrovnik, a hotel outside of the Old Town. I put on my comfortable shoes and started the night with a shot of rakija, which is slowly replacing my love of tequila.
I decided to put my camera away from the remainder of the reception. We all gathered for a five-course meal, similar to the setup of many American weddings. However, in between the courses of various meats, cheeses and vegetables, guests would get up and hit the dance floor. I thought for sure that people would be tired from dancing and drinking all day, but alas– these people didn’t stop. A live band with a small stage provided the Croatian music, peppered with a few American classics like “highway to hell.”
It was past 1:30 a.m by the time they cut the wedding cake, and some children had already fallen asleep. We stayed for the traditional throwing of the bouquet and garter, but we were getting to the point where we couldn’t keep our eyes open any longer. When someone accidentally catapulted a fork at my leg (yes, I was confused too), I decided that was my sign to catch the cab. Dozens of people continued to sing and dance with committed energy, as if they hadn’t been going for over 12 hours.
I’ve never felt such a strong sense of cohesion than I did at this celebration. The Croatian culture is truly one big family, so it is only natural that weddings are a symbol of this unity.
Throughout the festivities I had about five people sternly insist to me: “you must learn Croatian.” At first I didn’t understand why they were saying this to me. I have improved my comprehension and speaking a lot. Couldn’t they at least see I was trying?
However, then I realized that them wanting me to learn their language was a compliment. They didn’t see me as a tourist or mindless expat. They saw me as someone worthy enough to share their culture. They saw me as worthy enough to join the Croatian family.
Source : Croatia Week
When Styrmir Sigurðsson went hiking by Grindaskörð on the Reykjanes peninsula in Southwest Iceland recently, he discovered major tire tracks in a large area of the moss-covered landscape. He told mbl.is this is the worst damage he has seen as far as off-road trails go. The trail lies from Dauðadalir and up to Kristjánsdalahorn, and he estimates the damage extends for about 10 km (over 6 mi), he told Iceland Review.
The damage extends far into the moss-covered landscape. Photo: Styrmir Sigurðsson.
It appears, he said, that the damage was done by four-wheelers. The moss is extremely delicate, he stated, and the damage done is long-term. He believes the trail should be closed.
“For the first 2 km, the tire tracks are in the sand, but then it gets worse, because they extend into the lava field and over the moss where the trail has widened.” This, he explained, is a typical situation where one trail becomes impassable, so that another one is added, and then another and another. “It keeps getting worse.”
One track after another has been created. Photo: Styrmir Sigurðsson.
Grindavík Mayor Fannar Jónasson remarked, “Those trails are a problem and the way people treat the surroundings in all sorts of ways.” He added that a person is employed full-time to monitor the area, maintain it and try to prevent off-road driving.
Styrmir remarked, “It happens all too often that damage is done in this way. Luckily, most people follow the law, but many, on the other hand, drive off the road.” He encouraged people to report any such damage.
Source : Iceland Review
Fertiliser company Yara International has teamed up with industrial group Kongsberg to build the Yara Birkeland, which will haul fertilisers between three ports in southern Norway.
With a range of more than 65 nautical miles, the ship will be able to haul roughly 100 containers at a speed of 12 to 15 knots, according to the project’s director, Bjørn Tore Orvik.
Initially the ship will be manned, but remote operation is expected to begin in 2019 and fully autonomous operation in 2020, the companies said.
“Every day, more than 100 diesel truck journeys are needed to transport products from Yara’s Porsgrunn plant to ports in Brevik and Larvik where we ship products to customers around the world,” Yara’s chief executive Svein Tore Holsether said in a statement.
“With this new autonomous battery-driven container vessel we move transport from road to sea and thereby reduce noise and dust emissions, improve the safety of local roads, and reduce NOx and CO2 emissions,” he added.
The switch is expected to reduce CO2 emissions by 678 tonnes per year, according to Yara, with the electricity used to charge the ship’s batteries coming almost exclusively from hydro plants.
While Norway is a major oil producer it has been a leader in the adoption of electric cars thanks to generous tax incentives and has experimented with electric-powered ferries to cross its famous fjords.
Source : The Local Norway
Ever since The Local was founded in Stockholm 13 years ago, before expanding to eight other countries, we have tried to be a window on other cultures. We are convinced that finding the stories that tell us who “we” and “they” are helps break down barriers and brings us closer together.
In a tense world increasingly muddled by fake news and disinformation, we believe this places a special responsibility on The Local.
That’s why we’re launching our new “Sweden in Focus” series, where we aim to take an in-depth, independent and impartial look at the biggest challenges and opportunities Sweden faces today. We refuse to gloss over problems or paint an alarmist picture, but equally, there are no easy answers.
Don’t worry, we’re not changing. We’ve always tried to be a voice of reason, whether it’s debunking the six-hour workday or analyzing sexual violence statistics. We’re just going to do it even more, even better.
Because there are challenges, such as high unemployment among foreign-born people, a housing shortage, crime and poverty in vulnerable suburbs. The peak of the 2015 refugee crisis is over. But how to integrate all the new arrivals is likely to be a key point of contention in the next election in 2018.
“The subject is very polarized at the moment. On one side there’s Donald Trump and Fox News talking about Sweden from afar, and on the other politicians in Sweden saying there’s no problem. I try to show that the truth can be found somewhere in the middle,” ex-police officer Mustafa Panshiri, who teaches lone refugee children about adapting to Swedish values, tells our deputy editor Lee Roden in the first instalment of Sweden in Focus, which tackles the thorny topic of integration.
Truth is complex by nature. Sweden is neither a dystopian hell of immigration-fuelled crime, nor a perfect paradise of latte dads, fika breaks, Abba, meatballs and flawless social equality. Neither of these images tell the whole story of what daily life is actually like in this country, yet they are the only two narratives many outside of Sweden will ever read or hear about in much of the international media.
We noticed the thirst for local-global news again in the wake of the deadly attack in Stockholm on April 7th, when English speakers turned to us for the latest news in English, but also to read about how Stockholmers showed that Sweden’s trust and openness remained untouched by terror.
And where many other English-language media parachute in and out, The Local Sweden’s team live here, speak the language, know the culture and will see all stories through to the end. So when the refugee crisis settles, when “last night in Sweden” stops getting clicks and when the hype of “lagom” is replaced by the next Nordic buzzword, we’ll keep reporting on Sweden’s opportunities and challenges.
Meanwhile, we will also make sure that our coverage keeps reflecting the daily lives of most of Sweden’s residents, whether it’s an explainer about the country’s weirdest traditions, the latest news from the startup scene, how to boost education, or simply Swedes finding the time to debate the most bizarre stories.
Because the vision on which The Local was founded in 2004 still holds true today: daily news is the glue of society. It breaks down barriers and brings us closer together. Thank you for joining us on that journey.
Emma Löfgren, Editor, The Local Sweden
Lee Roden, Deputy Editor, The Local Sweden
Source : The Local Sweden
CMI was established in 2010 by Nobel Peace Prize Laureate Martti Ahtisaari.
Stubb identified three responsibilities for himself after announcing his decision to accept the nomination.
“One is to make sure that Martti Ahtisaari and the name Martti Ahtisaari remain a visible part of peace brokering. The second is to develop CMI as an organisation and the third to promote Finland’s role in peace brokering,” he said in a news conference on Wednesday, according to YLE.
Stubb gained experience of peace mediation during his tenure as the Minister for Foreign Affairs in 2008–2011, as he participated in thrashing out a ceasefire agreement between Georgia and Russia in 2008. He will be able to assume his new responsibilities at CMI without relinquishing his seat in the parliament.
He is also considered a viable candidate to succeed Jan Vapaavuori (NCP) as a vice-president of the European Investment Bank (EIB) after Vapaavuori’s upcoming appointment as the Mayor of Helsinki. Stubb only commented briefly on the position to be relinquished by Vapaavuori.
“We’ll take it easy with that one,” he said.
Source : helsinkitimes.fi