Dee, Lisa and Kristine: They Put the Star in Mostar

Kristine sent me a text message on Saturday stating she and Dee were on an un-air conditioned bus heading to Mostar. They arrived, drenched in sweat, and slightly traumatized. Dee’s description of the stench coming from the man in front of her: “It was like a dead rabbit crawled inside his butt and he farted the entire bus ride.”

In between dying many slow painful deaths because of Mostar’s heat, we ate Bosnian delights, drank on a terrace overlooking the river and swarming with bats, watched a guy who actually looked good in a Speedo jump off the bridge, dipped our toes in the river, climbed 1 of 3 climbable mosque minarets in the world, lounged in a cave, killed a tarantula, stole a kiwi, played Hearts with Carebear playing cards (those are from you, Lauren, thanks!) and watched cheesy American movies with Bosnian subtitles.

Another noteworthy event: Kristine acquired the nickname Krash during the school year after she was car #1 in a 12-car crash. On Sunday morning, Krash tripped and fell in such a way that her nickname will remain forevermore. Because I only have one bowl, Krash was returning from the kitchen to the living area after washing that one bowl, so I could eat cereal. As she came into the living area, I watched in horror as her feet stumbled off the step, her ankles twisted, her knees collapsed and she thudded to the floor. Thank goodness Krash began to laugh hysterically, because 1. the rest of us could then laugh hysterically and 2. we knew she wasn’t dead or suffering from broken bones.

Krash, I tell this story not to embarrass you, but so I can point out to the world (a.k.a. the 5 people who read this blog) how as you fell, I could see you trying to save the bowl. That’s amazing. And appreciated, because I don’t know how to start a day in Bosnia without corn flakes and boxed milk in my one and only bowl.

Pictures of the weekend-o’-fun can be found here and here.