A Special Museum

Let me admit, at the beginning, that I love museums.  It is true.  I must also admit, however, that I go to far fewer museums than I once did.  Why?  I suppose because I enjoy people so much.  I have grown quite fond of human beings, much fonder than I could have imagined.  And while one can certainly observe human beings in a museum, I would rather do it from a comfy seat in a cafe'.

Given the above, why should you listen to anything I have to say about this or that museum?  Very well, let me trot out my bona fides.  I grew up in museums.  As a child, I spent a great deal of time exploring the Museum of Science and Industry and the Field Museum, both located in the city of broad shoulders, Chicago.  My parents would tell you that I spent a great deal of time getting lost in these museums, but that would not be the truth.  It is true that they spent hours looking for me, but that was because they were slow and boring and didn't know where the good exhibits were.  I certainly knew where all the best exhibits were and I did not need adults to slow me down.  I was never lost.

I first came to Europe as a young soldier in the US Army.  Every free moment the army allowed me I spent traveling.  During those travels, I went to a great many museums.  Name some of the famous ones, I can assure you I was there.  The Louvre?  Of course, days at a time, a young man in search of art and lacking discrimination.  I remember perusing each Flemish portrait, expended care and time to discern why this portrait was different from the thousands of other portraits of Dutch and Flemish merchants, something I would never do today.  The Prado?  Check.  The Van Gogh in Amsterdam?  Yes, and spellbound I was.  The Tate?  Oh, most assuredly.  So, I think you get my point.  I have stalked the hallowed halls of marble and gazed at the wonders.  As an aside, my toughest museum day was the War Remnants Museum in Ho Chi Minh City.

Now, excusing that very long preamble, let us move on to a very small museum in Zagreb, Croatia, The Museum of Broken Relationships.

Through the doorway you will find...

Through an unassuming doorway, one enters this unique museum, a place dedicated to the objects left behind in the wake of broken relationships.  You know that thing, whatever it is, that he or she left behind when they broke your heart, or you broke their heart, or they died?  Those are the things that are on display here.  That cute vintage toy that you gave him, which he loved at the time, but which he left behind along with the shards of your heart?  That belongs here.  That crappy drawing that she did, which you hate but just can't seem to toss in the trash?  Here.  

The museum is scattered through a few small rooms.  Each room is devoted to a certain type of relationship.  One room is for broken hearts, of course, but there is another for lost parents or lost children.  Another room is made of of the detritus of relationships that never were, ships that passed in the night and kept right on sailing.  

The Raison de' Etre

 

 As we began examining the very spare exhibits, I was struck by the human stories these mundane articles represented.  Here was a series of incongruent and unrelated objects that added up to the sum total of loss.  Each piece of a broken relationship was accompanied by a short statement from the person who donated the thing.  The emotions expressed in these statements ran the gamut from hurt and loss to anger and vindictiveness. 

 

 The Hurt of Betrayal

While I found this fascinating, I am sure this in not everyone's cup of tea.  If you have just gone through a terrible breakup, this would either be the worst or best place in the world, depending on the day.  While the display above was a good example of hurt and betrayal, the next one is all about sheer anger.

 

The Lash of Anger

 

And when all else fails, there is the act of getting even, something most of us remember from at least one stop on the trail of broken hearts.

 Good Old-Fashioned Vindictiveness

When we had completed our circuit of the museum, I paused to chat with the young woman working at the ticket counter.  I had several questions to ask, though I doubt that it was the first time she had heard them.  

"I'm sure people ask this question, but have any visitors had a huge fight and broken up while at the museum?"

Large smile.  "I've been working here three years and I have not seen that."

"Do people break down and cry on a regular basis?"

"That does happen, but most often in the Parental Loss Room rather than in the other rooms."

While thanking her and saying out goodbyes, I thought to myself that she had a pretty cool job.  She seemed very happy.  Good for her.   

We wandered back out into the narrow streets of Upper Town, immersing ourselves in the flow of chattering tourists.  There very many museums in Zagreb that might appeal, from the Torture Museum to the Museum of Illusions.  Choose your poison.  This particular little gem, a monument to the leftovers of loss, will remain my current personal favorite and the only one I will write about on this journey.

From Zagreb, Croatia, and very glad to not have anything to donate to the Museum of Broken Relationships, I bid you Ciao for Now!