Apricot
Fig
Lime
Pomegranate
Grape
Kiwi
Peach
This list includes fruits I see growing on my 10-minute walk to work. I've tasted the apricots and figs--yummy--and all but the kiwi and peach trees are right it our front yard.
Needless to say, the fresh fruit here is pretty stellar.
I love all the fresh fruit and veggie stands, but yesterday I had a slight vegetable-buying mishap at one.
It all began when Sara noticed she had chicken she needed to cook before it went bad. We decided the best way to eat this chicken would be in a fresh salad. Because Sara was cooking, I had the job of going to the local market to pick up some salad stuff, the most important ingredient being the lettuce. No prob.
So, I walk to a little veggie stand and pick up one of the heaviest heads of lettuce I've ever lifted. I'm bummed because it looks rather white even for iceberg lettuce, but I pay the veggie lady and trek up the hill to our apartment with my bowling ball lettuce head.
When I return, I express to Sara my disappointment in the white lettuce, and pull it out of the bag.
"That's not lettuce," she says. "That's cabbage."
It's not like these little stands have labels for their merchandise, so I had, in fact, purchased cabbage for our salad. Oops! However, I was able to locate some lettuce at a local grocery store, where they do use labels, so our salad was saved. And delicious, I might add.
Is cabbage a lot heavier than lettuce? Should that have been an indication it wasn't what I thought it was?
In other news, it's back to Sarajevo tonight and tomorrow, and a possible trip to Banja Luka for the weekend. Banja Luka is 8 hours away from Mostar, so going there for a day makes little sense. But two of my best buds are there, and one of the two is having a birthday next week, so I still might make the illogical trip.
If I don't, I'll return to lovely Mostar and do Mostary things.
Thursday, June 28, 2007
Wednesday, June 27, 2007
Vino at Work
On Monday, to celebrate a coworker’s birthday, CCI ordered lunch, which consisted of deliciously unhealthy fried bread (think funnel cake without powdered sugar), delectable cold cuts and an addictive cream cheese-y spread. Afterward, we ate chocolates and drank red wine. I hope by the time I return to the U.S., America will have started a 2-glasses-of-wine-for-lunch custom in its workplaces. Hey, Casual Fridays probably started as a pipe dream at some point too.
So…what am I doing here? (Better late than never)
Somewhere between drinking Fanta and running away from stray cats, I realized I never blogged about what I'm doing in this part of the world.
Short answer: I’m completing an international field placement in Mostar, Bosnia, as required by the University of Denver’s Master’s in International Disaster/Trauma Psychology program. For 8 weeks I am an intern at the Center for Civic Initiatives (CCI).
Detailed answer: CCI is a non-governmental organization (NGO) which encourages citizens of Bosnia and Herzegovina to use their democratic rights and the National Court of Bosnia to improve their social welfare. So where does a mental health nerd fit in? CCI’s main work involves helping war crime witnesses and war crime victims (often the same thing) testify against war criminals. Unfortunately the process of prosecution isn’t exactly victim friendly. Among other unpleasant things, victims often have to tell their stories over and over during the process, putting them at risk for retraumatization. So my DU cohort and I have been asked to learn what we can about the court system as it pertains to witnesses, by research, observations, seminars and talking to potential witnesses. Then, our aim is to write a report on how the government and courts can better serve witnesses. Also, as a related project, we’re working on trainings that will provide more information to local lawyers, doctors and teachers about PTSD and other potential effects of war trauma.
Probably 10 weeks into the 8 week internship I’ll feel qualified and knowledgeable enough to do this.
Most of the people CCI works with are women who have been raped and otherwise tortured in war camps. On Friday Sara and I are going to Sarajevo to sit in on one of the war criminal trials, because one of the women supported by CCI will be testifying.
Short answer: I’m completing an international field placement in Mostar, Bosnia, as required by the University of Denver’s Master’s in International Disaster/Trauma Psychology program. For 8 weeks I am an intern at the Center for Civic Initiatives (CCI).
Detailed answer: CCI is a non-governmental organization (NGO) which encourages citizens of Bosnia and Herzegovina to use their democratic rights and the National Court of Bosnia to improve their social welfare. So where does a mental health nerd fit in? CCI’s main work involves helping war crime witnesses and war crime victims (often the same thing) testify against war criminals. Unfortunately the process of prosecution isn’t exactly victim friendly. Among other unpleasant things, victims often have to tell their stories over and over during the process, putting them at risk for retraumatization. So my DU cohort and I have been asked to learn what we can about the court system as it pertains to witnesses, by research, observations, seminars and talking to potential witnesses. Then, our aim is to write a report on how the government and courts can better serve witnesses. Also, as a related project, we’re working on trainings that will provide more information to local lawyers, doctors and teachers about PTSD and other potential effects of war trauma.
Probably 10 weeks into the 8 week internship I’ll feel qualified and knowledgeable enough to do this.
Most of the people CCI works with are women who have been raped and otherwise tortured in war camps. On Friday Sara and I are going to Sarajevo to sit in on one of the war criminal trials, because one of the women supported by CCI will be testifying.
Monday, June 25, 2007
Saturday and Sunday in Sarajevo
It amazes me sometimes that I feel like I don’t do very much here compared to my American life, but when I sit down to blog, I often have a hard time picking only a few things to write about, because it seems as if so many things happen. I suppose in the U.S. the stuff that makes my days busy includes Target runs, writing papers and other boring matters, but here everything is little bit exotic, even if it’s not happening ‘round the clock.
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.”
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.”
Retroactive: Dubrovnik and Such
Because I've been away from steady internet access, I haven't been able to post some blogs I've been carrying around on my flash drive. This post talks about things that took place the weekend of June 14 - 17. Sorry for the delay!
Thursday: At night Sara and I picked a random spot for dinner that turned out to be a wonderful, tucked-away restaurant where tourists do not typically go. I know this because we sat next to a professor from the University of Mostar who told he comes to this place to get away from 1. his students during finals time and 2. the tourists. I’m amazed it’s a not a tourist spot because it’s not far from the Old Bridge, the main tourist attraction in Mostar. But it’s a bit hidden, so perhaps that’s what protects it. The place itself was a delight. Surrounded by trees, it’s a cool (temperature-wise) locale, comfortable as well as beautiful. And the dinner was yummy. I ordered sea food risotto, but they only serve it on weekends, so I enjoyed a chicken fillet instead. Sara and I decided the weekend-only rule must mean the sea food is fresh. We’ll be returning. Ambiance and tastiness aside, what made the place such a treat was the company. I mentioned the professor; we talked to him a good amount. Turns out he was from Croatia, was a refugee during the war, lived in Atlanta (calls it home), and is now teaching in Bosnia, as well as helping rewrite the Bosnian Constitution. He was very grandfather like, probably in his mid-sixties, enjoying dinner with other professors. After our dinner, the gentlemen treated Sara and me to wine and an incredible chocolate/sugar crepe. Then, one of his friends came to the his table with trout caught from the nearby river. The owner cooked it up, giving Sara and me hefty sample to taste. Delicious.
Friday: For part of the work we’re doing here (which I should probably explain at some point) Sara and I are visiting Mostar NGOs (Non-Government Organizations) and schools and non-profits to see how they work, their strengths and weaknesses, how they collaborate with the organization we’re hailing from, Center for Civic Initiatives, and whatever else we want to know, I suppose. On Friday we went to a school and residential center for children with special needs. Kids with mental, emotional and physical disabilities can attend this school, and some of them live there during the week. It was a beautiful facility. And the teacher who showed us around was so nice and so helpful. He took the time to give us a tour of everything, introduce us to co-workers, and drink coffee with us to discuss the school, Bosnia, the state of social services, etc. It was the last day of school and a meeting arranged last minute, so I felt he was exceptionally generous with his time. It was interesting to talk about how children are affected by of parents with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. The meeting was a great experience.
Friday Night: A classmate working in Sarajevo came down to Mostar and we all hopped on a bus to Dubrovnik, Croatia. On the bus we met a sharp young woman from London, who was on holiday, on her way to enjoy the coast. Not only did she provide fun conversation in an endearing accent, but she found us a place to stay for the night, by texting the person who was renting her a room. In Dubrovnik it’s popular for people to rent out rooms in their homes. When you get off the bus, you are bombarded with little old ladies saying “Need a room?” I like house accommodations. They’re nicer than hostels and not much more expensive. That night, Sara, classmate Molly and I had dinner in the Old Town, then went to an outdoor bar for drinks. We left around 1:00 a.m., shortly after I had briefly fallen asleep in my chair. At a bar. I am a champ.
Saturday: First let me start off by saying how beautiful Dubrovnik is. The Old Town is a completely walled-in stone city, which looks and feels medieval. Most of the town is surrounded by the Adriatic Sea, which is blue and warm and wonderful. Off the Croatian shore there are these lusciously green islands that make me think Croatia is the Hawaii of central Europe. We took a ferry out to one of the Islands, Lokum and spent the day there sunning and swimming.
Side note: Dubrovnik is a big tourist spot. While were there, huge cruise ships would come to port and drop hundreds of touristy folk off. So while Dubrovnik is a great get-a-way, it’s also crowded and somewhat expensive. On the plus side, everybody speaks English.
Saturday night: Found a place to stay closer to Old Town, rinsed the sea salt off our bodies, ate dinner, drank coffee, got gelato (not as good as Florence’s but hit the spot), and enjoyed the night life until about 3:30 a.m. Fun story: We we’re talking to a Scottish guy who had recently been to Sarajevo. We told him we were in school for International Trauma* Psychology, and he said “I met some of you in Sarajevo!” (But in a Scottish accent.) It turns out he had dinner with a couple people from our program earlier in the week. As he said it, “The world is small.”
Sunday: More sunning and swimming. The weather both days was magnificent. Even though I slathered on SPF 30, I got sunburned. That Mediterranean sun is strong. Returned to Mostar on the 3:15 p.m. bus.
Thing I do not like about Dubrovnik: So many men in Speedos. Along with torture and human trafficking, there needs to be a humanitarian effort to abolish men in tight bikini bottoms.
Thing I do like about Dubrovnik: Cuisine. It’s on the Adriatic Sea across from Italy, so it’s known for good sea food and Italian dishes. My favorites.
Bonus thought: I would like to celebrate my creativity. I left my contact lens case back in Mostar, so I soaked my lenses in a bottle cap instead. However, before I pop the champagne, I should realize my creativity was only needed because of my stupidity. Oopsy.
*The real name of my program is International Disaster Psychology, but we, the students, find International Trauma Psychology a more fitting name and have started to use it when explaining what we’re doing in Bosnia.
Thursday: At night Sara and I picked a random spot for dinner that turned out to be a wonderful, tucked-away restaurant where tourists do not typically go. I know this because we sat next to a professor from the University of Mostar who told he comes to this place to get away from 1. his students during finals time and 2. the tourists. I’m amazed it’s a not a tourist spot because it’s not far from the Old Bridge, the main tourist attraction in Mostar. But it’s a bit hidden, so perhaps that’s what protects it. The place itself was a delight. Surrounded by trees, it’s a cool (temperature-wise) locale, comfortable as well as beautiful. And the dinner was yummy. I ordered sea food risotto, but they only serve it on weekends, so I enjoyed a chicken fillet instead. Sara and I decided the weekend-only rule must mean the sea food is fresh. We’ll be returning. Ambiance and tastiness aside, what made the place such a treat was the company. I mentioned the professor; we talked to him a good amount. Turns out he was from Croatia, was a refugee during the war, lived in Atlanta (calls it home), and is now teaching in Bosnia, as well as helping rewrite the Bosnian Constitution. He was very grandfather like, probably in his mid-sixties, enjoying dinner with other professors. After our dinner, the gentlemen treated Sara and me to wine and an incredible chocolate/sugar crepe. Then, one of his friends came to the his table with trout caught from the nearby river. The owner cooked it up, giving Sara and me hefty sample to taste. Delicious.
Friday: For part of the work we’re doing here (which I should probably explain at some point) Sara and I are visiting Mostar NGOs (Non-Government Organizations) and schools and non-profits to see how they work, their strengths and weaknesses, how they collaborate with the organization we’re hailing from, Center for Civic Initiatives, and whatever else we want to know, I suppose. On Friday we went to a school and residential center for children with special needs. Kids with mental, emotional and physical disabilities can attend this school, and some of them live there during the week. It was a beautiful facility. And the teacher who showed us around was so nice and so helpful. He took the time to give us a tour of everything, introduce us to co-workers, and drink coffee with us to discuss the school, Bosnia, the state of social services, etc. It was the last day of school and a meeting arranged last minute, so I felt he was exceptionally generous with his time. It was interesting to talk about how children are affected by of parents with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. The meeting was a great experience.
Friday Night: A classmate working in Sarajevo came down to Mostar and we all hopped on a bus to Dubrovnik, Croatia. On the bus we met a sharp young woman from London, who was on holiday, on her way to enjoy the coast. Not only did she provide fun conversation in an endearing accent, but she found us a place to stay for the night, by texting the person who was renting her a room. In Dubrovnik it’s popular for people to rent out rooms in their homes. When you get off the bus, you are bombarded with little old ladies saying “Need a room?” I like house accommodations. They’re nicer than hostels and not much more expensive. That night, Sara, classmate Molly and I had dinner in the Old Town, then went to an outdoor bar for drinks. We left around 1:00 a.m., shortly after I had briefly fallen asleep in my chair. At a bar. I am a champ.
Saturday: First let me start off by saying how beautiful Dubrovnik is. The Old Town is a completely walled-in stone city, which looks and feels medieval. Most of the town is surrounded by the Adriatic Sea, which is blue and warm and wonderful. Off the Croatian shore there are these lusciously green islands that make me think Croatia is the Hawaii of central Europe. We took a ferry out to one of the Islands, Lokum and spent the day there sunning and swimming.
Side note: Dubrovnik is a big tourist spot. While were there, huge cruise ships would come to port and drop hundreds of touristy folk off. So while Dubrovnik is a great get-a-way, it’s also crowded and somewhat expensive. On the plus side, everybody speaks English.
Saturday night: Found a place to stay closer to Old Town, rinsed the sea salt off our bodies, ate dinner, drank coffee, got gelato (not as good as Florence’s but hit the spot), and enjoyed the night life until about 3:30 a.m. Fun story: We we’re talking to a Scottish guy who had recently been to Sarajevo. We told him we were in school for International Trauma* Psychology, and he said “I met some of you in Sarajevo!” (But in a Scottish accent.) It turns out he had dinner with a couple people from our program earlier in the week. As he said it, “The world is small.”
Sunday: More sunning and swimming. The weather both days was magnificent. Even though I slathered on SPF 30, I got sunburned. That Mediterranean sun is strong. Returned to Mostar on the 3:15 p.m. bus.
Thing I do not like about Dubrovnik: So many men in Speedos. Along with torture and human trafficking, there needs to be a humanitarian effort to abolish men in tight bikini bottoms.
Thing I do like about Dubrovnik: Cuisine. It’s on the Adriatic Sea across from Italy, so it’s known for good sea food and Italian dishes. My favorites.
Bonus thought: I would like to celebrate my creativity. I left my contact lens case back in Mostar, so I soaked my lenses in a bottle cap instead. However, before I pop the champagne, I should realize my creativity was only needed because of my stupidity. Oopsy.
*The real name of my program is International Disaster Psychology, but we, the students, find International Trauma Psychology a more fitting name and have started to use it when explaining what we’re doing in Bosnia.
Friday, June 22, 2007
Numbers
Internet use has been limited, but I miss blogging, so I'm gonna do some quick and dirty observations, numbers style.
June 14, 2007: First time I brushed my hair in Bosnia. Seven days after I arrived.
5: Average stray cats I see a day.
40 degrees Celsius: Average daily summer temp of Mostar. That's 100 degrees Fahrenheit.
1.50 KM: Price of an ice cream cone. Roughly $1.00 US.
2 KM: Price of an hour of internet. Do your own math.
57%: One reported unemployment rate of Mostar.
210€: Rent of my studio apartment, utilities included.
9 minutes: How long the hot water lasts in my shower.
3 hours: How long I've been alone since leaving the U.S. (Sleeping excluded.) And I'm okay with that!
100%: Rate at which the war has come up in conversations with locals.
7,524: Number of cups of coffee I've consumed in Bosnia.
1: Number of Bosnian verbs I know. "Understand." So I can say, "I don't understand."
3: Minutes left of internet time! Gotta dash! Going to Sarajevo for the weekend. Ciao ciao!
June 14, 2007: First time I brushed my hair in Bosnia. Seven days after I arrived.
5: Average stray cats I see a day.
40 degrees Celsius: Average daily summer temp of Mostar. That's 100 degrees Fahrenheit.
1.50 KM: Price of an ice cream cone. Roughly $1.00 US.
2 KM: Price of an hour of internet. Do your own math.
57%: One reported unemployment rate of Mostar.
210€: Rent of my studio apartment, utilities included.
9 minutes: How long the hot water lasts in my shower.
3 hours: How long I've been alone since leaving the U.S. (Sleeping excluded.) And I'm okay with that!
100%: Rate at which the war has come up in conversations with locals.
7,524: Number of cups of coffee I've consumed in Bosnia.
1: Number of Bosnian verbs I know. "Understand." So I can say, "I don't understand."
3: Minutes left of internet time! Gotta dash! Going to Sarajevo for the weekend. Ciao ciao!
Monday, June 18, 2007
Teaser: Dubrovnik
I haven't blogged in a few days because I went to the Croatian coast for the weekend. I know, rough life.
Thursday, June 14, 2007
Pictures!
I've included some pictures of Mostar and my apartment. Please note the photo of the very aggressive plant attacking my apartment. It's only a matter of time before it's well inside.
One Week In
Yesterday Sara and I played hookey from day 3 of our internship. For good reason, I think, and our internship helped us arrange it. We looked into private Bosnian language lessons from a professor at the University of Mostar. Even with a hand-held dictionary and language CDs, I don’t feel secure in the basics. For example, I know none of the question words and zero grammar rules. Granted, most of the ignorance is due to my lack of learning initiative, but I’m ignorant nonetheless. I need a jumpstart, even if it’s a little late.
Today my DU program advisor and a representative from the organization that helped set up my field placement are coming to Mostar to check on things. I appreciate the check-in.
Tuesday Sara and I did our first bit of touristy site-seeing. We went into one of the many mosques scattered throughout Mostar. We climbed up its tower’s (is there a better name for it?) narrow, spiral staircase to see one of the best views of Mostar. The inside of the mosque was beautiful as well, and we both commented on it being a powerful experience, despite having no connection to Islam.
We also looked at a photo exhibit of the bridge of Mostar—and other parts of the city—before, during and after the war. There are really no words to describe the destruction of 1992, 1993 and beyond. I can’t get over the fact that a mere 15 years ago, so much of this city was wiped out. It’s so different now. I’ve only been acquainted with this city for a few days, but I’m so proud of it and the rebuilding it has done. I only hope similar healing is attainable for the people who have been through worse devastation.
--
Thing I like about Mostar: Most things are mad cheap. Yesterday I bought risotto, chicken bullion, an onion and a bottle of wine, all for around $5.
Thing I do not like about Mostar: There are stray cats everywhere. So creepy. I hate, am very allergic to, and am genuinely afraid of cats. My fear is one will run into my apartment. If that happens, from the U.S. you will hear my scream. Followed by the cat’s, as I punt it back outside.
Today my DU program advisor and a representative from the organization that helped set up my field placement are coming to Mostar to check on things. I appreciate the check-in.
Tuesday Sara and I did our first bit of touristy site-seeing. We went into one of the many mosques scattered throughout Mostar. We climbed up its tower’s (is there a better name for it?) narrow, spiral staircase to see one of the best views of Mostar. The inside of the mosque was beautiful as well, and we both commented on it being a powerful experience, despite having no connection to Islam.
We also looked at a photo exhibit of the bridge of Mostar—and other parts of the city—before, during and after the war. There are really no words to describe the destruction of 1992, 1993 and beyond. I can’t get over the fact that a mere 15 years ago, so much of this city was wiped out. It’s so different now. I’ve only been acquainted with this city for a few days, but I’m so proud of it and the rebuilding it has done. I only hope similar healing is attainable for the people who have been through worse devastation.
--
Thing I like about Mostar: Most things are mad cheap. Yesterday I bought risotto, chicken bullion, an onion and a bottle of wine, all for around $5.
Thing I do not like about Mostar: There are stray cats everywhere. So creepy. I hate, am very allergic to, and am genuinely afraid of cats. My fear is one will run into my apartment. If that happens, from the U.S. you will hear my scream. Followed by the cat’s, as I punt it back outside.
Tuesday, June 12, 2007
Lebron James, the next David Beckham?
There must not be much happening in the soccer world, because the leading sports story on Bosnian news last night was the San Antonio Spurs*/Cleveland Cavaliers NBA Finals Game 2. Wouldn't have pegged that as world news, that's for sure.
I caught the news after watching an American movie with Bosnian subtitles, Good Advice, starring Charlie Sheen and Denise Richards. Even hailing from the U.S. and being a fan of bad movies (which this was), I didn't know this film existed until last night. Ever since living in Italy where 7th Heaven and Walker: Texas Ranger were the airing American TV shows, I've wondered who picks the American programs and movies to be shown on European TV.
Someone who likes cheesy TV and lame movies, I suppose. I need to land this job.
*Thanks for the correction note, Spazy!
I caught the news after watching an American movie with Bosnian subtitles, Good Advice, starring Charlie Sheen and Denise Richards. Even hailing from the U.S. and being a fan of bad movies (which this was), I didn't know this film existed until last night. Ever since living in Italy where 7th Heaven and Walker: Texas Ranger were the airing American TV shows, I've wondered who picks the American programs and movies to be shown on European TV.
Someone who likes cheesy TV and lame movies, I suppose. I need to land this job.
*Thanks for the correction note, Spazy!
Monday, June 11, 2007
Supersized Mostar Post
Warning, long post ahead!
I type this from my apartment in Mostar. No, I don’t have internet there. However, from my place my computer does pick up wireless signals, they just aren’t strong enough to give me full internet capabilities. Who tries to steal wireless in a post-conflict country? This girl.
Because there aren’t an abundance of internet cafes nearby, and I don’t know how much time I’ll have to blog at work (do people here waste as much time on the internet at work as they do in the U.S.?), my plan is to write from home, save my stuff to a flash drive and transfer my entries when I have the chance.
So I’m in Mostar! I like reaching final destinations and knowing when I unpack my bags I won’t be packing them up for a while.
After 2 fun days in Sarajevo, we—Kristine, Sara and I—overslept a bit Saturday morning, so in a slight rush we said goodbye to Kristine (whose blog you can enjoy by clicking on a link I’ve provided in the side panel) went to the bus station, where we missed the 12:30 p.m. bus we intended to take but got ourselves on a 1:00 pm to Mostar. We had gone to bed around 4 a.m. and woke up around 11:15 a.m. when we had planned to leave for the bus station at 11:30 am. Hey, we were adjusting to our new European time zone. And, when we called our Mostar contact person at 12:30 p.m. to tell her we would be late, it sounded like she was still in bed, and we found later out she had a good night herself the night before, so we didn’t feel bad about the 30 min. later-than-expected arrival.
The ride to Mostar was beautiful. Green and hilly and sunny. From what people had warned me about, I expected my first views of Mostar to be that of war damaged buildings. Not the case. Yes, there was some indication of that, but there seems to be more new buildings and building reconstruction than anything war-torn. I’m under the impression that had I been staying in Mostar 2 years or even 1 year ago, I’d be saying differently.
Ivana, who works at the organization I’m placed with this summer, met us at the bus station and was nothing but extremely welcoming and incredibly sweet. She drove us to our apartments and gave us chocolate, local candy and fruit, along with folders with tons of Mostar maps and brochures as welcome gifts. Then she drove us around town, took us out for Bosnian food and coffee, brought us to a grocery store, and drove us back home. So helpful, so nice—such a pleasant way to begin a new city. She told us she just turned 26, but I would have guessed older. Not on looks, but on maturity. She looks like my cousin Jocelyn, which will provide a visual for about, oh, two of you.
From Saturday evening until Sunday evening (it’s 10:30 p.m. Mostar time as I write this) Sara and I have done a lot of exploring the town. Our apartments are about a 15 minute walk to the center of town, and once you’re there you can get to anywhere in Mostar by walking.
I start work Monday (tomorrow at this point in time), the 11th at 11:00 a.m. Ivana says she wants to let us sleep. Ok by me. Unfortunately, our direct supervisor had a recent medical emergency and is out of the office, so I don’t know when Sara and I will begin full-blown work.
Fast facts:
· It’s HOT here.
· Sara and I have studio apartments right next to each other. They’re darling. Brand new, completely furnished and nicer than my place in Denver. I’ve included a picture of the living area and will post more soon.
· My Croatian comprehension and speaking skills continue to not exist, but I seem to be surviving well on blank stares and hand gestures.
Thursday, June 7, 2007
MADE IT!
First post from Bosnia, woohoo! Kristine and I made it here, here being Sarajevo, without a hitch. Does that mean the rest of our time here will be a mess? Hopefully not.
We're currently at an Internet cafe in Old Town Sarajevo. Just finished a Balkan meal of sausage, bread and onions. I feel tougher already.
Our hostel is pretty nice as far as hostels go, we have our own very lovely room with a nice bathroom. Now that I think about, it's better than most U.S. hotels I've ever stayed in, because it has an apartment feel. If my place in Mostar is scary I may come back to Sarajevo and live in the hostel. After our arrival at the hostel, we slept from around 4:00 pm to 7:00 pm, when my Mostar travel buddy, Sara, knocked on our door and woke us up. It's around 9:30 pm here; we'll see how long I stay awake.
I was hoping I would magically learn the Croatian language upon arrival, but that has not been the case. I think language issues here will be a real struggle for me.
It's still too early for me to really comment on Bosnia. Sarajevo is a delightful European city, but it's so unsettling and heartbreaking to see buildings with obvious war damage.
Hope everyone is well back in the states! Ciao!
We're currently at an Internet cafe in Old Town Sarajevo. Just finished a Balkan meal of sausage, bread and onions. I feel tougher already.
Our hostel is pretty nice as far as hostels go, we have our own very lovely room with a nice bathroom. Now that I think about, it's better than most U.S. hotels I've ever stayed in, because it has an apartment feel. If my place in Mostar is scary I may come back to Sarajevo and live in the hostel. After our arrival at the hostel, we slept from around 4:00 pm to 7:00 pm, when my Mostar travel buddy, Sara, knocked on our door and woke us up. It's around 9:30 pm here; we'll see how long I stay awake.
I was hoping I would magically learn the Croatian language upon arrival, but that has not been the case. I think language issues here will be a real struggle for me.
It's still too early for me to really comment on Bosnia. Sarajevo is a delightful European city, but it's so unsettling and heartbreaking to see buildings with obvious war damage.
Hope everyone is well back in the states! Ciao!
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)
