It's amazing

I came home from my field placement to find the surprise of my life. . .both of my housemates in hooded sweatshirts and pants. It is moderately cool for the first time here. It rained both yesterday and today, and has been cloudy the whole two days. It feels wonderful. The thermometer tells us it is still in the mid 70's, but it may as well be in the 40's, they way we are dressing. I hope it lasts.

Therapeutic Community

Last week I had the opportunity to visit one of two therapeutic communities run by NGO Viktorija, the organization that serves drug addicts. The program is amazing. The participants must commit to 2 years at the therapeutic community in addition to counseling before and after. I was incredibly impressed by the program, both by how long and how comprehensive it is. The community is set outside of the city, in the hills and isolated from other people. The residents work in a farm setting and are amazingly self-sufficient. The picture shows both the area where it is set as well as a garden the residents maintain and eat from. In addition to the garden, the residents bake their own bread, raise and butcher their own animals, and manage their entire household. While the organization serves both genders, this therapeutic community is specifically for men. During my visit the residents were amazingly open to sharing about their experience and how the program works. I was also surprised to see residents mowing hay by hand and then bringing it back with a horse and wagon. Although, according to a mechanic in Michigan, this wagon probably had better wheels than my car.

Mulberries

Yeah! For only the second time in my life I have encountered mulberries. As a kid, we used to have a tree house in a mulberry tree, as well as several trees around the house. There were also some mulberry trees in the grove of trees between my and Brian's house. I used to eat them on my way to play shark attack or whatever the day's fun was. Since then, however, I have seen no mulberry trees whatsoever. Until here, that is. Dee, Sandy, and I stumbled across one on our walk to the "fortress". Since then I have seen them all over. I must admit, I could not contain my excitement and had to eat one. It was definitely as good as I remember (despite the look on my face). I also ran across some with my colleagues from the mental health center here. They warned me that mulberries would stain me and my clothes and didn't seem to think they were good for anything else. Little do they know.

They Should All Be Spanked

My supervisor at the Community Mental Health Center makes it a point to share with me specific cultural reflections, which I appreciate greatly. When I went in yesterday, he wanted to make sure I understood the nuances of the Serbo-Croatian, Bosnian, Serbian, and Croatian languages, as this is somewhat of a sticky wicket for the region. As you may or may not know, these all used to be the same language, and depending on who you talk to, they still are. Since the end of the war, regions are attempting to differentiate their language, and have been successful to some degree. For example, depending on where you are, coffee may be kava or kaffa. However, regardless of which of these you choose, you will be understood everywhere. According to my supervisor, the European Union told the Balkans that they would not recognize multiple languages from the region and would acknowledge only one. My supervisor also said that people from Croatia protested quite rigorously, even getting television coverage. In his words, all of these people are incredibly spoiled and need to be spanked. As he sees it, it is the same language. I find it incredibly significant that people are so invested in trying to differentiate themselves in this way. Maria mentioned that schools in her area of the country have different classes for students of the differing languages. My supervisor also told me that in some political situations people from Croatia, Serbia, and or Bosnia use translators when they speak. I cannot imagine what that looks like. My closest approximation is having a translator for someone from Nebraska speaking with someone from New York.

Brokedown Palace

I was incredibly disappointed to find out from my mother that I once again am having trouble with my passport. Apparently, they finally got around to processing my original application. In all their wisdom, they completed the process and issued me a passport. Except that I already have one. So, I am now carrying an invalid one. Good grief. Additionally, the US government takes no responsibility to get my new one to me. Too bad for me, I guess.

Class Reunion

I and almost half of my class spent the past weekend in Sarajevo. Only two people in Bosnia in our class didn't make it. We had super good times. I realized that parts of my situation really aren't as bad as I thought while other parts could really be better. There is no denying, however, that Sarajevo is a good 10 degrees cooler than Banja Luka at all times.

Maria, Dee and I went to the Tunnel Museum. It is run by a father and son, and commemorates a tunnel the Sarajevans built during the siege to transport people, supplies, water, and eventually electricity and even oil. It is a pretty real experience.

The one problem with the museum is that it is located at one of the ends of the tunnel, which is in a very remote area far from public transportation. Getting there is no problem, because any taxi drops you off. We found, however, that taxis do not wait there, and when you exit you have no way back. This put us in quite a predicament. Being the adventurous folk that we are, we began walking back. It became pretty clear pretty quickly, however, that we had no sense of where "back" was. Accepting that we were lost, we stopped walking to try to add some sense of direction to our efforts. This did not work. Just as we had given up hope, the curator of the museum pulled up in his car. Three lost Americans is a pretty conspicuous sight, and he recognized us as having just left his museum. He generously gave us a ride back to the tram station, after laughing justifiably at our mistake. Saved.

Could it get any hotter?

It is so hot here. I really don't think that can be stressed enough. We are sweating all of the time. Almost no buildings have air conditioning, and most serve as their own little greenhouses, trapping heat and making things hotter. It's hard to decide which is worse - sitting in the rising heat of a building with no air movement or walking around outside with a slight breeze combatting the blazing sun and exercise of walking. Never thought I would long for cool air of San Antonio in the summer.

Dee is sporting an amazing sweat spot - compliments of a long bike ride. What a stud for making it in this heat!

Pictures and Teenagers

Given that we are currently using a dial-up connection, it takes about one hour to upload 3 photos. Needless to say, I haven't gotten very many uploaded. However, I am doing my best and will continue to try. I put a link on to my photo page, right above the links to other blogs. You are currently able to enjoy about 4 pictures, almost an hour and half's worth of work.

I found it interesting that almost all of my colleagues here have asked me how old I am. At the same time, Dee and Sandy did not seem to be getting this question. One of my refreshingly open colleagues clarified this dilemna. To the Bosnians, I look like I'm 19 years old. My colleague told me how surprised she was to learn that no, I am quite a bit older than that. She suggested it was my lack of make-up that made me look younger. I, however, continue to blame the four or so weeks I was premature - I'm always behind. Professionally, my "baby-face" has been a real liability, but everyone tells me I'll appreciate it when I'm 50. We'll see.

Snakes

I forgot to mention the incredible perils I am overcoming in order to be here. This morning as I was walking to the support group, my colleague asked me if I have ever seen a snake. Curious as to why she was asking, I replied that I have seen many. She went on to tell me that there are many snakes in the building where the support group meets. Our other colleague proceded to tell me that they were poisonous. I waited for laughter to follow, assuming this must be a joke. Incorrectly interpreting my face of disbelief for a look of fear, my colleague assured me that they have the antidote on site while indicating giving himself a shot in the arm. No joke.

Support Group

Today at my field placement I got to sit it on a support group for adult males with mental illness. I appreciated the opportunity not only to see the similarities and differences in group work but also to hear the stories of these individuals.

It is not always obvious that a war happened here so recently. An amazing amount of reconstruction has taken place, and life seems "back to normal". One of the psychology students we met at the university here challenged whether Bosnia was an appropriate place for our work given that the war ended several years ago. At the same time, the effects of that war seem ubiquitous. It seems to seep into so many conversations and experiences, whether directly or indirectly, and is everywhere. Maybe that is just my view as an outsider. . .

In Honor of. . .

I was so sad to miss the weddings of my dear friend Rachael and cousin Bradley last night [tear]. I was sorry not to be able to welcome Matt and Amanda into the fold in person. I wish all of you the best!

For the mod: in honor of this great occasion I did listen to "Rock the Boat" and thought of all of you.

Mystery Meat

Given the language barrier, we have come to accept that we will not know what we are eating a good majority of the time. This includes both restaurants and grocery shopping. Today Dee picked out what she described as "the least scary looking sausage" for our supper. That is not the most encouraging description I've ever received. I tell myself it's all part of the fun.

One week done. . .

Since my last post I have attended my second field placement. This is at the community mental health center. I was surprised to see how community mental health is similar no matter where you are. The basic structure of services they provide as well as methods seemed to have a lot of overlap with what I know of community mental health in the US. Not that there aren't differences, of course. The biggest difference I noticed so far was their number of clients. I met with two providers who only had one client between them for the day. That is almost unimaginable in the US. I haven't really explored why beyond their explanation that everyone goes on vacation in the summer.

Dee, Sandy, and I took in the local pool yesterday afternoon upon a friend's recommendation. We definitely noticed a difference in fashion sense regarding swimming suits, but I'll leave it at that.

The computer in our apartment was broken for the last few days, so I still haven't been able to post more pictures. I am writing from an internet cafe currently, but the smoke is so thick in here I don't think I could even see what I was doing if I tried to add some. In the interest of my health, I will keep this post brief.

Banja Luka!!

I am finally settled in Banja Luka, and have many things to report. So here goes. . .

Apartment: The apartment is nice, but small. The situation has the potential to be very interesting. There is one bedroom, but when we walked in, presumably no beds. We were not prepared for the power of the hide-a-bed, or should I say, three hide-a-beds (we each have one). Dee and I sleep in one room: living room by day, slumber party by night. Sandy sleeps in the other. Every morning Dee and I wake up, fold up our bedding, and roll up our beds. When the beds unfold, they almost touch, leaving our sleeping heads about one foot away from each other - perfect for late night chats. The shower doesn't have a shower curtain. We're not sure how the original tenant worked that one, but it has caused several wet floors in our experience. Dee also managed to break the toilet within the first three days, but it is under control now.

Field Placement: I am going to be working at several places, and although I have met two of them, I have only worked at one so far. The organization is called "Victory" (when translated). They serve and treat drug addicts. It has been very interesting to learn about their program and how it differs from treatment in the US (I will elaborate more later). What I love about Bosnia already is the relaxed attitude and the emphasis on beverages. You cannot do anything without a cup of coffee, tea, water, or juice in your hand. It does no good to refuse, because you will be repeatedly asked until you acquiese and drink something. I have never drank so much coffee in such a short amount of time. My cohorts have been incredibly welcoming and nice, and are so anxious to share with me. I appreciate that greatly.

Food: While still excellent, we have had some great experiences with food here. Dee got a great pizza that included a sunny-side up egg and pickles. The most highly recommended restaurant in town is a mexican restaruant. . . to some degree. Dee, Sandy, and I ate there on our first night together. We began our meal with chips and salsa, a supposedly innocuous item. What we got was habenero doritoes served with tzatzki sauce and marinara sauce. We didn't quite know how to respond to that. In the end, I must highly recommend tzatzki on chicken fajitas.

Well, that's a start for now.

Day two

Feeling much better after having gotten some sleep, my second day here has been a fabulous journey into the coffee and culinary delights of Sarajevo, both of which I have enjoyed. Nette, you would be happy to know that pizza margherita is as big here as it ever was in Germany. More to the point, I am happy to know that. I also think I have spent over three hours just sitting at cafes and drinking coffee. It seems to be the national pastime here, which I am way more excited to partake in than baseball.

Tom Jones. . .

So, what is one of the first songs I hear when landing in Europe? Tom Jone's Sex Bomb. This is a song I heard all of the time when I was in Germany and after that in London (in a great commercial remix). What is the European obsession with this song? I will never understand it.

I have arrived safely in Sarajevo. The trip was long and exhausting but without incident. I am spending the next two nights in a very nice hostel. Hope to have pictures soon.

We the People. . .

So, now that I actually have my passport I can relate the horrendous adventure of getting it. The passport office is so backed up I did not get mine until the day before I left Colorado. It was quite nerve racking. I had called and talked to someone the week before. She told me that they had moved up my departure date and put a rush on it. I was supposed to get it Tuesday or Wednesday in the mail. So when I didn't have it Wednesday and was planning on leaving Friday, I was quite nervous. I went into the office, cried to the security guards, and got in without an appointment. They told me that the main passport office hadn't even started processing my passport, despite my rush and moved departure date. So. . . I had to completely reapply. I had to go get new pictures, fill out a new application, and wait some more. But, finally I got it - complete with a huge bald eagle, flag, and reprinting of the beginning of the constitution. While the entire process seemed completely frustrating and ridiculous, the security guards were very nice and sympathetic and deserve some props.

I spent last night with the generous family of my friend and traveling compainion Maria. We are leaving for the airport in three hours. Given that I just mailed off my final assignment, I don't think my level of preparation could be higher. The weather in Sarajevo were we land is supposed to be about 69 degrees tomorrow.