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