Klaudio Ivašić and I are having a bit of a fallout in his café. Ivan Hrvatin and Jozo Brandić are jumping in every now and then, and a few others are only listening from some distance. Now, Klaudio is the municipal secretary of the leading political party in Istria, which has been in power ever since the formation of the Croatian Republic, and I am the president of a fresh and tiny non-governmental organization concerned with sustainable development of the municipality. Ivan is appalled by any dispute among good people, but Jozo is with me. “Tell me,” asks Klaudio mockingly at some point, “how many members do you have?” “Like Jesus,” I answer point blank, “only twelve.” “But Jesus got crucified!” exclaims Ivan, pain written on his face. “Wrong example!” Klaudio laughs and we all join him. “No, no,” I protest when everyone quiets down, “the example is just right.” For a moment, I feel sorry for Jesus. So misunderstood, even among those who are supposed to be his own.