Thank you note to Mostar

Mostie,

Thanks for being so cool. Well, you know what I mean.

I’m sorry I never learned the language. I think we did well with our use of gestures.

Thank you for not dubbing the fabulously bad American movies you so often aired. And your cevapi? A-ma-zing. Please send that stuff to the states ASAP. Your fruit selection is also top-notch.

Thank you for not being part of the EU and having the Euro as your currency. (But I hope that happens for you one day when the dollar is stronger.)

I think it’s safe to say you’re the prettiest city in BiH. Keep up all the great rebuilding work. You’ll go from pretty to smokin’ hot in no time.

Speaking of hot, you might look into air conditioning. Especially on your buses when it’s over 100 degrees. Just a thought.

I don’t see you as a divided city. I see you as double the fun.

Miss you already, Mostie. Hvala for everything.

Ciao,

Maria

Doviđenja

I only have a few more days left in Mostar. Because I should spend those final days wrapping up internship stuff, saying goodbyes and eating my final bites of cevapi, I’m writing my sappy farewell blog post now rather than later. I may also be avoiding writing a report and packing, but, either way, here comes the goodbye post.

Mostar was a very happy place for me. I knew this was going to be an interesting and educational experience, but I never expected to be so darn happy the entire time I was here. Maybe it was all the Fanta. Seeing war damaged buildings and hearing personal stories of war atrocities never became easy for me (as it shouldn’t), but didn’t keep me from enjoying this experience.

The people here are amazing, so it’s hard not to catch a positive vibe. I met dozens of people working for incredible organizations established to address post-conflict concerns. Plus many people who have endured more pain and trauma than anybody should, yet exhibit constant kindness and a determination never to let what happened during the war happen again.

No complaints about the lifestyle. Either worked early and left early or worked late and arrived late. Once office time was over, my only concern was deciding what outdoor café to go to or what to have for dinner. And when the week was over, weekends included seeing friends and new (to me) parts of the world. Not too shabby.

Mostar is overflowing with character. The people have substance. It felt good to be here.

It’s not easy for me to leave a situation like this, because odds are I’ll never see people I’ve worked with again or return to this town I admire. And the food! How I’ll miss the food.

Even though I’m hesitant to leave Mostar, I get the impression it’s ready to see me go. For one thing, all of the city’s scraggly stray cats have given birth to kittens. There’s not room here for all of us. What’s worse, one stepped into my apartment yesterday, and as I went to shoo it away, for I moment I thought, “Hey, you’re kinda cute.” If I stay much longer, I’ll start liking mullets and man capris.

Before heading back to the states in mid-August, going through Fanta withdrawal and reading Harry Potter, I’m experiencing the terrible dollar to Euro conversion rate in Italy and Germany with Lauren and Kristine. Travel agenda: Dubrovnik, Rome, Positano, Florence, Munich, London, Toronto, Buffalo. Let’s be honest. Buffalo is the coolest city on that list.

Who knew?

Things that surprised me about Bosnia and Herzegovina (due to incorrect assumptions or past European experiences):

How good the food is
Store clerks bag groceries for you
Peanut butter is sold everywhere
Restaurants provide free glasses of tap water
People wear shorts, sneakers, colors other than black and material other than denim
Cars stop for pedestrians
It gets hot. Really hot.
Most things are wonderfully inexpensive
American sitcoms and movies are almost always on TV
English and American music is everywhere
Mayo on pizza
Stores stay open late—some bakeries never close—even on Sundays
Unsupervised children are all over the place

Jumpin' and Divin'

This past weekend was the 441st annual Mostar Diving Competition. I think the 441st is a lie, but no one can prove it's a lie, so they say 441st and, more importantly, print it on t-shirts.

All of Mostar crowded on the river banks to watch Mostar's finest plummet from the Old Bridge. On Friday, starting at midnight, opening ceremonies consisted of divers jumping off the bridge wearing glow-in-the-dark paint (and Speedos) and carrying flares. There was also a very impressive fireworks show and a whole lotta techno music. In pictures it looks like the bridge is on fire. Thankfully, this was not the case. Just flare-filled.

Although people jumped off the bridge all weekend, the official diving competition took place on Sunday. Due to language limitations, I never learned exactly what the judging was based on; however, I do know the winner was the most attractive, most fit diver of the bunch. Sara and I were a little miffed that we weren't asked to be guest judges, but we expect such an invite for the 442nd (sure it is) competition.

Sugar Sugar

A scene from my all-sugar Bosnian diet. Guess whose plate has two pieces of cake.

My internship organization just had a press conference unveiling a new commercial and radio spot they will be airing. Using cool music and mildly scary graphics, like blood going down a drain, the ads encourage people to testify against war criminals.

I couldn't understand what was discussed at the press conference, nor do I know exactly what is said in the ads, but I feel compelled to do whatever the mildly scary graphics want me to do. Good work, commercial makers.

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Last night I asked Sara what she was looking forward to doing once she returned to the U.S. "Exercising," she answered. A good answer, because here in Mostar if you go running people ask you what you're running from, and if you go hiking you will explode, landmine style. As for me, I miss having a library and free books at my disposal.

But other than that, Mostar has been a great place to live and leaves me craving and longing for next to nothing. I've enjoyed 2 months of not driving or having a million things to do. I've also loved my all-sugar diet, based primarily on mandarin orange flavored Fanta. Yummy.

The end is near :( but so are Italy and Germany :)

I've always known this summer would fly by, but it's still hard for me to believe I have just over a week left in Mostar. I'm sad to see my time here end. But by meeting Lauren in Rome on August 4th, eating my way through Italy and drinking my way through Munich with Lauren and Kristine, I should find a way to drown my sorrows.

Earlier this week Sara and I gave a trauma and PTSD presentation to women and teens who experienced war trauma. The presentation we expected would take no more than 2 hours somehow turned into an informal group therapy session lasting nearly 4 hours. We were invited back to run a workshop next week, which I'm looking forward to. The women and teens are amazing people, and I'm probably learning more from them than the other way around.

This weekend is the annual Mostar Diving Competition, where divers jump and dive off the Old Bridge and try not to die. Awesome.