Sign of the Cross to You

Given recent events, I have come to the conclusion that no traveler has ever experienced as much hassle as I have. Here's an overview of what I've overcome this summer:

1) I got a hole in my shoe - had to be replaced

2) The bag I bought specifically for this trip ripped right through the handle - had to be replaced.

3) Due to an unforseen national replacement, my debit card became invalid - had to be replaced.

4) After a summer of having it repeatedly rejected, spending over $50 on phone calls, and being told 5 times that my credit card should work as my account is clear, I finally am told that there are sanctions against Bosnia that will prevent my credit card from ever working in this country. Wish they would have told me that the first 4 times I called. No replacement options available.

5) My passport was invalidated - had to be replaced.

Yikes - during the time at which I had no access to money and no valid passport I really questioned whether I would ever be allowed to leave. However, I am confident - not that everything else will go smoothly; but that I will eventually get there.

Crazy Lady in the Woods

I am not the crazy lady in the woods. At least, not the one I am blogging about. Last night I decided to be adventuresome, get up early this morning, and hike back up to the WWII memorial. Seemed like a good Sunday morning activity given our 100+ degree weather. About halfway up, I decided to take a break on a bench and drink some of my precious water. As I was sitting there, I saw an older lady hiking down the hill toward me. Upon closer inspection, I saw that she was wearing a long sleeved shirt with a sweater over it. That should have been my first clue. When she got close, she came right over to the bench and sat down about half an inch from me. That should have been my second clue. She began talking to me, despite my protests that "I don't understand". Then she started touching my arm, right on my scar - clearly asking what it was from. I drew my hand away and repeated that "I don't understand". That didn't deter her, however, she next began touching my rings. So I moved away from her. I get that there might be different cultural standards of personal space, but no other unknown Bosnian has ever touched me (except maybe in a line - they have really close lines here). I guess it was the heat, but she didn't seem to be understanding my nonverbal clues that I don't want her to touch me and she should leave me alone. She continued talking to me, and clearly indicated that she wanted some of my water. Having heard Savi and Michelle's story about sharing beverages and being just plain creeped out, I really didn’t' want to share my water with her. It's a long, hot walk to the top, and frankly, I thought I would need it. Besides, she was coming from the top where I knew you could refill water bottles for free (she was carrying one, it was just empty). Plus - if you're that hot and thirsty, take off your sweater, okay? But it was over 100 degrees, and she was old. . . was I really going to not share my water? So I poured half of my water into her bottle and decided I needed to get out of there. I left the bench and took off up the hill. Still feeling a little weird about the situation, I turned around to check on her. To my surprise, she was following me up the hill. This only inspired me to hike faster. I mean, if I can't out-hike an elderly woman in a sweater and skirt, something's wrong. I turned around a second time to see if she was gaining on me, only to find that the chase was off. Instead, she was about a foot off the trail, still in plain sight, pulling down her pants and squatting. Having seen just about enough, I turned back around and really started to book it up the hill. At least she wasn't following me any more. Seriously, if she had dropped out of a tree onto me on my hike back down I would not have been surprised.

Once she wasn't around I enjoyed the rest of my hike.

A day in the life

Vesna, one of our friends from the National Democratic Institute, took pity on my solitary state and invited me to her house for the afternoon. I had a great time. Having spent the morning in the pool (the temp yesterday and today was over 100), I was excited to have something to do. Vesna lives with her son and her parents, in what she described as a suburb of BL. When we arrived, her mother had prepared an amazing meal. My favorite part was a traditional food that literally translates to "pinch". It is basically a 'pinch' of dough deep fried. It seemed like a new year's cookie without sugar or raisins. You eat these with a spread somewhere between cheese and butter. Dee, Sandy, and I have often seen it at the market and could never decide what it was: cheese or butter. Now I know - it's neither. Either way, spread on these dough balls it is very tasty. My other favorite part was the beverage I was served. It was one Vesna's father's specailities: a 50/50 combo of red wine and coca cola. It took me a little time to rap my head around this mixture, but it didn't taste at all how I expected. Her father is convinced that mixing wine with coke diminishes the effect of the alcohol - to the point that cops won't be able to tell how much you drank. I don't think I'm going to test that. We also had amazingly tasty stuffed bell peppers.

Vesna's family was incredibly hospitable (something I have come to experience as the norm here). We had a very relaxing time after the meal, where I again went swimming in a small pool they have. When I left her mom gave me a basil cutting from their garden to dry and take home to America. The plant has religious value and was a very generous and appreciated gift.

Cultural Revelation for the day: The game of "MASH" is universal. Vesna's son (soon to be entering the 4th grade) predicted my future with an almost exact version of the game I played as a child (not to mention a couple of weeks ago with Dee). For the record, I will be marrying Tobey Maguire, living in Paris, driving the batmobile, and will have 5 kids. Can't wait.

Home Alone

Dee and Sandy headed to Mostar this morning. They are meeting with some people from Le Strada, an anti-trafficking agency. I believe it's the only agency entirely devoted to trafficking in Bosnia, but I could be wrong. I stayed behind because of prior commitments here. Since Dee has been getting so motion sick with the bus travel and because it costs about the same, the girls decided to rent a smart car for their trip. Too funny. Although it's pretty awesome that they can make it to Mostar and back on one tank of gas. I got a short ride in it - after which Dee was quick to assure us that the back is really not made for people to ride in.

Prijedor

Okay, last week Dee and I went to Prijedor but I haven't had time to blog about it yet, so here goes. Prijedor is a town about an hour away, it is smaller than Banja Luka, but still a decent size. It is also located in the Republic of Serpska. We have been working with a domestic violence safehouse there, and went up for two days to give seminars to the employees. The employees have all been hired/chosen, but none of them have ever done work in this area, received any training, or even started working yet. Although the safehouse is completely ready to go, they haven't opened yet because they are waiting on government paperwork. Given the regulations for employees, the people we were meeting with are not allowed to speak with the victims about anything related to their experience or domestic violence - that is the role of the psychologist and social worker. So our workshops focused mainly on self-care, common reactions, and the basics. This distinction seems very contradictory to the domestic violence movement in the US, and took a little getting used to. There are a lot of cultural differences that make this kind of response different.

While conducting the workshops and hearing from the employees was very interesting, probably the best part of the experience was actually staying at the safehouse. Two of the employees spent the night with us there. The safehouse is set up to be very self-sufficient, and that made for a good time. While we were there, the water went out. We had to draw all the water that we used from a well. They even heated up some water for us on a stove so we could bathe.

I should note - both of our hosts for the night spoke no English. Despite this barrier, we spent the entire evening with them and felt like we did a great job communicating. Okay - I felt like I did a great job smiling and nodding. While we may not have shared that much, it wasn't actually a problem.

We spent part of the evening working in the garden. Dee and I got to pick some beans. We also got to rock some nice winter weather wear- it was cold and they were bestowed upon us by our hosts. I wore that totally awesome vest and Dee got a swell sweater.

I think I drank a total of 5 cups of coffee that day. Our hosts were incredibly generous and after every activity it seems we got another beverage. The woman who cooked for us was amazing - the food was incredible, and most of it was freshly picked. We ate some of the beans and had apple cake made from apples grown in their orchard. Add home-made bread to that and it was fabulous.


Needless to say - good times were had by all.

Up to my usual tricks. . .

I spent the last weekend in Mostar, having a great time with Maria, Lisa, and Dee. I must relate a spectacular experience, however. After enjoying a leisurely breakfast on Sunday morning, I moved from the living area to the kitchen to wash the one bowl Maria has. On my way back, I was completely foiled by the three inch difference in floor heights. I took the biggest spill I've had in a long time, crumpling my toes, ankles, knees, and elbows. My peers were quite amazed at my ability to rebound from such a fall without any protruding bones, but that's only because they don't know my history with tripping. No worries - the bowl was saved.

Did I Really Just See That?

Dee and I have come to love watching track meets. We have watched many in our time here, and find that the commentary in Serbo-croatian does little to detract from the joy of watching other people run from the comfort of our couches. We've even got our favorite and least favorite athletes who we routinely cheer. Last Friday as we were watching, disaster struck. We were watching the long jump, when out of nowhere, a javelin spears one of the jumpers in the back. We couldn't believe it. I mean, what are the odds? It was pretty surreal to see. Dee and I have oft debated the value of the javelin vs. the shot put. She claims that this kind of injury would never happen with the shot put. I still stand by my argument that in the wild the javelin would totally prevail. Either way, it was a major bummer for some long jumper. Major bummer for the guy who threw it as well. I mean, right after he speared some guy he had to keep throwing. Yikes.

For all of you doubters. . . more info can be found here:
http://news.bbc.co.uk/sport2/hi/athletics/6898520.stm

Stirring the Pot

So, an unexpected concern presented itself today. This is a picture of the front of our apartment complex. Almost every single tenet hangs clothes and laundry from their respective balcony. We currently have one of our friends, Anhchi, visiting from Croatia. She did a load of laundry, like ya do, and hung her stuff out to dry on our line. We just got a call from our landlord (who probably drives by at least once a day) telling us we needed to take down the red towel, because it says "Croatia". We originally thought this was just his preference, but he proceded to tell us this was a safety concern. Until that call, I had never gotten the sense that nationalism was so profound that it would present a danger. Hope we don't start an incident.

Just For You, Aunt Terry

This is a picture of Banja Luka from the top of the hill we climbed on Saturday. I got a request via my sister from my Aunt Terry to have fewer pictures of butt sweat and more pictures of the landscape. Here you go.

Full House

This past weekend our house was overflowing. Suzie and Renee came to visit from Serbia, Lisa came to visit from Sarajevo, and Anhchi came to visit from Croatia. Saturday morning we hiked up one of the hills surrounding Banja Luka. At the top was a memorial from World War II and a cafe, a great combination for the top of mountain (okay, hill). The memorial had really interesting and graphic carvings, the content of which took me by surprise. I feel like memorials in the US leave a little more to the imagination. The carvings depicted graphic scenes of violence, including people hanging. It's definitely a good way to keep people from forgetting.

Anyway, it was fun to hike and get a different view of Banja Luka.

We're Everywhere. . .

So, last Friday Dee, Sandy, and I visited a domestic violence safehouse in a neighboring town. The house is situated on some property with a barn. They are currently raising chickens, and have room to have pigs as well. As we were going through the barn, I spotted a familiar symbol from across the room. Upon closer inspection I found a stack of cans from MCC. It was canned meat - "Food for Relief". What a small world.

More from the birthday. . .

I had to include a picture of Dee, Sandy and I all dressed up. I have to admit, Sandy definitely takes the cake with her "chic" hat, huge earings, and cumberbun. Good times.

Alles Gute zum Geburtstag!

Yeah! Yesterday was my birthday. My colleagues, roommates, and the entire city of Banja Luka helped to make this an amazing day. Dee and Sandy made me signs and decorated the apartment for me in the morning. They made a huge card on yellow posterboard (see left). Dee also posted signs of different events that have happened on my birthday in various years. My favorite is the reference to "The Fugitive". Dee and I had watched that just a few days before. However, my favorite sign overall was posted to the TV and read "happy birthday krash". For those of you who don't know, "krash" has become my alias among the Denver gang. This stems from an unfortunate incident involving my now laid to rest car and a very poorly placed telephone pole.

After this morning excitment, I went to my field placement where they celebrated my birthday (I didn't even think they'd know). They gave me a book in English (yeah!) and a small vase made by residents of one of the therapeutic communitites they collaborate with. It was really awesome.

Wondering around after leaving my field placement, I happened to bump into Dee and Sandy. Banja Luka is a small town for being the second largest city in Bosnia. They admitted that they were out to buy me a birthday present. Their intent was to buy me a really skeezy shirt and make me wear it to my birthday dinner. Ha ha - I foiled their plans. We ended up ALL getting new outfits, definitely throwing ourselves headfirst into Bosnian fashion. I was blessed with a super cool shirt that says "Feel the groove in your legs". And I do. Dee did my hair and make-up, and then we then went out for a really great supper at. . . yes, our favorite restaurant. It's becoming a little bit like "Cheers" in there.

The evening was rainy the entire time. While that didn't dampen our spirits, it did seem to dampen the spirits of everyone else in the city. When we left the restaurant, there was absolutely no one on the streets. Usually we have a crowd to fight through. I'm not going to lie - it was a little creepy.

Oh yeah - I also got to talk to my mom for a little bit. Even though it was really short, it was really great. Love you, mom!

So, overall, I had a great birthday. Thank you all for your birthday wishes!

Gender Center

Today Dee, Sandy, and I met with someone from the Gender Center for the Republic of Srbska. She was able to tell us about the work they are doing as well as comment on gender issues within Bosnia and Herzegovina. It was fascinating to hear. The meeting was probably the most interesting thing I have participated in since being here. I think we have something to learn from them.

Maria's Visit

My good friend Maria and fellow IDP'er came to visit this weekend. She is living in Mostar for the summer, but was in Sarajevo on Thursday and Friday. Since she was already a little closer to us, she made the final trek up to Banja Luka for the rest of the weekend. Dee and I showed her all the sites here. . . which took about half a morning. We spent the rest of the time in various cafes. We also introduced her to some VIP stars, our favorite television programming. It was good times.

Traveling by Bus

This past Friday, Dee, Sandy, and I traveled to Prijedor, a town about an hour away. We went to visit the Mental Health Center and meet with their psychologist and psychiatrist. The first thing we were asked upon our arrival, however, was if we were familiar with their bus situation. Having just gotten off a bus in Prijedor without problem, we didn't know what they meant. They went on to explain that their bus station manager (for lack of a better term) was caught embezzling funds. He is no longer working in that capacity, and no one has taken his place. Therefore, no one is in charge of the bus station. More importantly, there really is no working bus station. Buses show up as they please and leave when they want. There is no schedule and no way to predict when they will be coming or going. You basically just show up and wait. This situation became infinitely more bizarre when they told us it had been this way for 6 months. Despite the chaos, we easily made it back to Banja Luka by showing up and waiting until a bus was headed that way.