Serbs admit they lost the best part of the Adriatic when Croatia decided to go it alone. This piece of sea-front property includes medeival tourism mecca Dubrovnik, where Serbs lived and vacationed alongside other tourists. During the recent war, the town experienced some 2 million USD in damages and lost over 200 citizens. While the old town is still rife with shellmarks, the town's restoration is nearly complete and many hotels are under construction in hopes to jump start the tourism industry. But is tourist-hungry Dubrovnik ready for the return of Serb vacationers?

Having just returned from my second trip there, it appears that it is still to early to forgive and forget. First of all, the term "Serb" or "Serbian" seems to have been replaced by the term "Chetnik", unless of course, locals talk about "Serbian aggression", in which case the word is used as an adjective.

Of course, I faced the problem of using the Serbian language. Self-conscious as I was about this, I apologized for my noticable absense of the "Ejekavitsa" dialect and my tendency to congugate both first and second verbs in typical Belgrade style. Perhaps I didn't really have to do this but I was also curious as to how Croats would deal with hearing Serbian. As I was a foreigner, the locals made no bones about it, but at the same time, were insistant that I adapt my toungue to Croatian.

Viva la difference! Yet, at the same time, I could't help but feel the similarities between Croats and Serbs. In Dubrovnik, one stretch of cafe-bars and pizzerias on Bourbon street featured the kind of male gangs, fast cars and young strutters I've seen in Belgrade. There's a Croatian version of "turbo folk" and of course, burek has not become contraband material.

It all seemed so familiar that I even made the mistake -in a moment of casual conversation- of mentioning to a bartender that the only other place I had heard such good acid jazz funk was in Belgrade. I must have touched a nerve because he angrily pointed out how after many in Dubrovnik lost friends and family to "Serb aggressors", now Serbs want to return as tourists. Off went the groovy music and soon, Van Halen was blaring out of the speakers. Whoops!

"Our wounds are too fresh," explained one woman who works in the tourism industry "Although I believe I am politically correct, I don't think I miss Serbs here."

Perhaps so, but some do miss Serbia's famous rock bands. Judging by what I heard on the radio, I think I can understand why. I spent an afternoon talking about with one 28-year old about the Belgrade music scene. He was particularily interested in what Partibrejkers was up to these days and said -with dismay- that he wasn't able to find any of the new releases in Dubrovnik.