I’m pretty sure that intro was a rambling, directionless mess, so bless your heart if you’re still with me.
Some weekend highlights:
Friday Sara and I went to Trebinje, and area in the Republica Surpska, to sit in on a seminar discussing the improvement of court processes for war crime witnesses and victims. We were unable to snag an interpreter, so we had no idea what people were saying, but we did a good job pretending we could. (Because my immaturity level is at age 5 at most, when I don’t understand long conversations, I’ve started doing fake interpretations in my head. For example, I think people were really taking about if they should spend money on new jails, but in my head they were arguing about if they should go to the beach or stay at home and watch soccer on TV.)
One of the most interesting parts of the day was the drive to and from Trebinje. On the way there, we almost got into a head-on collision with a huge cow, moseying in the middle of the highway. I think the cow would have won, the mammoth beast that it was. Even though we almost died, I love cows, so I enjoyed the whole near death experience. And, driving anywhere in Europe tends to be a near death experience anyway, so at least this time there was some livestock involved to spice things up.
On the way home, I noticed about 15 landmine warning signs on the side of the road. They’re scary. They’re red, with a scull and cross bones, and “landmine” written in English, Bosnian-Serbo-Croatian and Cyrillic. It’s so strange to see them; they seem so out of place. We’re driving along beautiful rolling hills, a simply beautiful landscape and—oops—a sign pops up telling you not to go further or you’ll explode.
Saturday in Sarajevo!

Hopped on a bus Saturday morning to visit my classmates, those who live in Sarajevo, and a bunch from Banja Luka and Tuzla who also came to the city for the weekend. It was someone’s birthday (as if we needed an excuse to go to Sarajevo). So nice to see everyone.



Kristine, Dee and I went to the Tunnel Museum, a house on the outskirts of the city where a tunnel was built and used during the 1992-1995 siege of Sarajevo. When the city was surrounded and under attack, this tunnel was used to bring supplies to the people of Sarajevo. Seeing and learning about the tunnel was intense. It’s still mind-blowing to me that this horrific war happened only 12 years ago in a place where I would never expect it. Some areas of the world, sadly, seem to be known for conflict, such as the Middle East and a good chunk of Africa. As tragic and unacceptable as the violent conflicts in these parts of the world are, they’re also, at this point, not surprising. But with Sarajevo…I don’t know. It was a beautiful Olympic host city, and then a few years later, its civilians are in the middle of brutal warfare, where no one, regardless of age or gender is safe, and thousands of people are killed, hundreds of thousands displaced.
And honestly, besides being incredibly heartbreaking for me to think about and see reminders of what people here went through, it’s also terrifying on a more selfish level. If tragedy like this can erupt like it did in the former Yugoslavia, I have no doubt it can happen anywhere.
And those are my feel good thoughts of the day.
Dude! I almost forgot to write about one of the nicest parts of the weekend. In order to get to the museum from the city center, you take a tram until the final stop, then take a taxi for about 3 twisting miles more until you reach the museum house. Kristine, Dee and I managed to get to the museum just fine, but as we were heading back toward the direction of town, we realized there was no indication that a taxi will be passing by anytime soon, and we really didn’t know all the rights and lefts we need to take to get back to the tram station. Like the cute American fools that we are, we were wondering around a rural intersection, trying to decide which way to go. We had no clue where to go, and this was barely a mile into things. Soon, however, one of the owners of the museum (the father of the father and son former Bosnian army soldiers that run it) drives by us and slows down. We’re thrilled because we figure we’ll just ask him for directions, but, silly us, we forgot we were in Bosnia, where people are genuinely, exponentially helpful. He unlocks the doors, we jump in, use the universal language of laughter to express how ridiculous and thankful we are for his assistance, and he drops us off exactly where we need to go to catch the next tram back to the city.
Funny, in the U.S. we would have screamed “Stranger danger!” while spraying mace before ever getting in the car with an elderly gentlemen whose relationship with us only included us asking him 20 minutes earlier, “Can we go into the tunnel? Pictures okay? Hvala.” But here, it’s just the way things work.
I’d like to end by complimenting my Bosnia guide book (Thanks for buying it, Mom!), because it’s always right on.
Page 93: “Bosnians will usually go very far out of their way to help you. Don’t get the wrong impression if someone seems too helpful.”
6 comments:
You took a windy road? Was it hurricane-like, or more like a tornado? Perhaps a mere bluster? Man, the dangers of Bosnia, I am not sure that I feel okay with you being there.
Smart butt. English is hard! I changed the adjective.
stranger danger! bosnia kids would be screwed if they came to the US.
Hey Maria! It's Jess from CNF. Hattie linked me to your blog, and I'm so happy to see how well you're doing.
I, too, loved the "stranger danger" portion of this entry. Yours truly would have totally maced that old man.
Hi Jess!
So nice to hear (read?) from you. Are you a writer for This American Life yet? :)
I hope you're doing well! I promise not to get into too many unknown vehicles while I'm here.
I'm good! Moving to the big cit-ay this fall.
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