Learning Croatian at 75: An Austrian dentist’s journey through literature and language

A mountain life with room for new horizons

Johann’s daily life unfolds against the dramatic backdrop of the Salzburg mountains, where he’s lived and worked for decades in the small town of Bruck. Until last year, he spent 47 years as a dentist, building a practice in a region where summer brings hikers and mountaineers, and winter transforms the landscape into prime skiing territory. The area around Zell am See and Saalbach remains a well-known destination, and Johann has always made the most of living at 800 metres elevation.

Now retired, cycling has become his preferred activity, though the mountains still call to him. His three children have long since moved out – his eldest is 50 and lives in Vienna – and he has three grandchildren. “That’s still a bit few,” he jokes. While he no longer climbs and ski as frequently as in his younger years, the alpine lifestyle that shaped his decades of practice continues to anchor his daily routine.

When a dental assistant opens a door

The spark for learning Croatian came unexpectedly through Johann’s work. During his final five years of practice, he employed a Croatian dental assistant who became more than just a colleague. “I was always interested and would ask her things,” Johann recalls. Their conversations at the practice planted the seeds of curiosity that would grow into a serious commitment to learning the language.

But Johann’s connection to the region runs deeper than workplace chitchat. He’s long been drawn to Yugoslav literature, counting Ivo Andrić, Miroslav Krleža, and Dževad Karahasan among his favourite writers. Three or four years ago, he discovered Slavenka Drakulić, and this discovery crystallised into a concrete goal. On a trip to Zagreb six months ago, he found himself in a bookshop where one Croatian book particularly appealed to him. “That’s my goal,” he says. “I want to be able to read that in three years.”

The reality of learning a Slavic language at 75

Johann doesn’t romanticise the challenge he’s taken on. After attempting self-study, lessons with his assistant (who preferred to practise her German rather than help him with Croatian), and a course at the local adult education centre, he’s frank about the difficulties. “I find Croatian a very difficult language,” he admits. “Very difficult.”

What makes his current course with Josipa different is the structure it provides. “Many things are explained that weren’t clear to me before,” he notes. “And the deeper I go, the more I see how difficult it is.” He’s particularly struck by how similar words can have entirely different meanings with just one vowel change – zapaliti versus upaliti, for instance. The stress patterns and pronunciation present constant challenges for a German speaker accustomed to first-syllable emphasis.

An incident in Istria last year drove this home. Johann walked into a shop to ask about breakfast, but the woman behind the counter couldn’t understand him. When he discussed it later with his assistant, she explained that German speakers naturally stress the first syllable, whilst Croatian doesn’t follow that pattern. “You have to hope the person you’re speaking to is understanding enough to work out what you mean,” he reflects. Still, he finds Croatian beautiful and melodic, especially in song.

Structure, intensity, and the long game

The course with Let’s Learn Croatian has surprised Johann with its intensity. “Your head is smoking afterwards,” he says, though he means it as a compliment. The structured approach suits his learning style – he’s someone who wants to understand grammar from the ground up, to have everything properly organised in his mind. He notes that his fellow students have different approaches, each bringing their own learning preferences to the virtual classroom.

The challenge of Croatian, he’s discovered, is that a stray A, E, or U can slip in and change everything – something German doesn’t prepare you for. There hasn’t been a breakthrough moment yet, no sudden feeling of mastery. But understanding declensions and cases has made things considerably easier, even as the full scope of the language’s complexity becomes clearer.

Istria, literature, and a language worth the effort

Johann’s motivation for Croatian extends beyond the classroom. In recent years, he’s become fond of cycling in Istria, finding the landscape ideally suited to his favourite activity. This September, he’s planning to participate in Parenzana 155, a cycling marathon, because “it’s simply beautiful down there.” The region is considerably closer than the coastal areas he used to visit with his children, and these days he prefers not to travel too far.

His Croatian connections continue to grow. His former assistant has invited him to visit Slavonia, a region he’s curious to explore. He’s never tried mlinci, the traditional baked flatbread, though he’s enjoyed kulen, the spicy sausage that not everyone appreciates. When asked what advice he’d give someone starting to learn Croatian, Johann pauses. “It’s difficult because everyone learns a bit differently,” he says. For him, starting with grammar and building systematically works best, but he acknowledges that Slavic languages present unique challenges for German speakers. The melody, the stress patterns, the whole rhythm of sentences – it’s more complex than French or Italian.

What keeps him going is consistency and structure. The Let’s Learn Croatian course is significantly more intensive than the adult education classes he tried, and that’s precisely what he needs. He’s considered doing an immersion course in Croatia itself, having found that approach helpful when learning Italian. He stays with it, week after week, knowing that even a fortnight away from the language makes it harder to pick up the thread again. And somewhere in the future, perhaps in three years’ time, sits that book from the Zagreb bookshop, waiting to be read.