How Croats in Bremen are preserving their cultural identity
- by croatiaweek
- in Entertainment
ZAGREB, 19 Aug (Hina) – The Croatian Cultural Association of Bremen performed on Saturday at the “Sommerfest in Hastedt,” a summer music and dance festival aimed at fostering understanding and connection between different cultures.
In Hastedt, a district in the German city of Bremen, members of the association were dressed in traditional Croatian costumes. The performance featured two groups: one consisting of children and the other of adults, who showcased traditional Croatian songs and dances.
“The audience was thrilled, and we were happy to finally dance and be seen by others,” said Ljiljana Vidović, the president of the association, in a statement to Hina.
This was the association’s first performance after the summer break and their second appearance at the Hastedt festival overall.
The festival is designed as a gathering of cultures and generations in a relaxed and joyful atmosphere. Its goal is to facilitate mutual understanding, encourage acceptance, and provide an opportunity for learning from one another.
The event also brought together communities of Turks, Indians, Arabs, Bulgarians, Thais, and other nationalities, who also performed various modern dances.
The Croatian Cultural Association of Bremen, founded nearly 26 years ago, has around 70 members.
An estimated 500,000 Croatians live in Germany, with migration to the country dating back to the 19th century and where immigrant associations strive to ensure that children don’t forget their mother language and roots.
As the summer holidays ended in Bremen, a city in northern Germany, about fifty people reunited. They embraced and greeted each other warmly after being apart for six weeks.
“We always look forward to performing because it gives us a chance to showcase what we’ve been working on,” the association’s president, Ljiljana Vidović said before Satursday’s festival. “It’s an opportunity to show that we, as Croatians, exist in Bremen.”
Founded 26 years ago, the association is making final preparations for the event in eastern Bremen. The space, rented from a local Lutheran church, echoes with the sounds of tamburica music. Children aged five to 13 sing Croatian children’s songs in Croatian.
“It’s so nice. We hang out and dance,” says 10-year-old Ivan, who first lived in Rome and then in Bremen. “I can’t wait to perform,” he says during a break.
The children are excited. In just a few days, they will don traditional Croatian costumes. Vidović is also preparing choreography for two more groups of older folk dance participants.
“We want them to learn dances from all the regions where Croatians live,” she explains as the Dubrovnik linđo dance plays in the background. They have already mastered the steps of dances from ethnic Croats in Vojvodina (Bunjevački Croats), and from Slavonia, and Međimurje, and will soon learn those from Kreševo, central Bosnia and Herzegovina.
“I want them to sing, to pronounce the words. That way, the children learn the Croatian language,” says Vidović, who was born in Zenica.
Language is key
Preserving the language among immigrants is crucial, especially for generations born in Germany.
“My children always considered themselves Germans,” says 43-year-old Danijel Bradić, who was born in Bremen.
When he would tell them, “We are Croatians,” they would respond in German, “No, we are Germans. We were born in Germany and have German citizenship.”
Luka (15), Julija (13), and Mateja (10) didn’t want to speak Croatian. In fact, they didn’t even want to hear it.
“Until they came here,” says Danijel.
Ljiljana teaches the children in Croatian and translates into German if someone doesn’t understand.
Surrounded by other Croatian children, Luka, Julija, and Mateja changed their minds and now want to learn the language.
“Before, we used to speak German at home, but now we mix,” notes the father.
This was the first summer the children spoke Croatian during their vacation. On the island of Brač, they ordered food in restaurants and ice cream on the promenade by themselves.
Danijel admits that he didn’t want to join the association himself in 1996. He was 15 years old and had no interest in folklore. But his neighbour, who was Croatian and a co-founder of the association, was persistent. He claimed there were girls at the association. Danijel eventually changed his mind and met his future wife, Jelena, at the association.
“Associations like this play a significant role in the lives of Croatians,” says Danijel, whose grandparents came to Bremen in 1973.
Marriages and friendships
The Croatian Cultural Association Bremen has about 70 members who gather every Friday from 6:00 PM to 10:00 PM.
Vidović, who works as a clerk in the city, revitalized the association twelve years ago. Gatherings had dwindled due to the retirement and passing of the older generation. Those remaining were working and unfamiliar with folklore.
“It was tough at first,” she recalls.
She promoted the association on Facebook and Instagram. She visited churches where Croatians congregated. “I told parents that their children would lose themselves if they didn’t know who they were and what they were. That they would forget Croatia. So they should come and build connections with each other,” she says.
Sisters Petra (15) and Nika (17) Zdravac, born in Otok near Vinkovci, moved to Bremen in 2019 because their parents found jobs there. Sisters Jana (14) and Divamaria (16) Poljan from Bjelovar arrived on the same day for the same reason. Adjusting to a new environment, language, and surroundings wasn’t easy. But since they met at the association, they have been inseparable.
“We notice that more and more Croatians are coming,” they say.
When they joined the association two years ago, there were fewer people. The children were younger, but now older ones are coming too. “And when others see how well we dance here, we’ll truly become a big community.”
Dinamo or Hajduk?
The association is on its way to reaching a record 105 members, the number it had when it was founded. The youngest member is ten months old, and the oldest is 59-year-old Novica Vidović.
Novica, like his wife Ljiljana, volunteers. Without his old tamburica, adorned with a red-white-blue ribbon, none of this would be possible—especially without the music he’s been involved with for decades.
“We don’t burden the children. We just want them to be happy,” he says.
During their time there, no one uses their mobile phones. Surprisingly, the young people don’t mind. They dance and sing with enthusiasm, then chat and socialize afterward.
“We gladly welcome children who don’t speak Croatian well. We try to teach them as much as we can,” say the Zdravac and Poljan sisters. “We know what it was like for us when we came to Germany and couldn’t communicate.”
The Zdravac and Poljan sisters danced folklore in Croatia, so one day, they will teach the others.
Ljiljana, who recruited them through Facebook and their parents, is happy to have someone to take over one day.
The only obstacle to the association’s survival is finances. The interior design company ElbeWesser, owned by Snježana and Michael Nefzi, donated money for T-shirts. Bus trips to performances are paid for through membership fees.
The association celebrates birthdays and organizes trips. The children grow up together without forgetting their origins. Two boys, dressed in football jerseys of Marko Livaja and Luka Modrić, can’t agree on whether Hajduk or Dinamo will be the champion this year.
“This place has a future,” says Petra Zdravac with a smile.