Visiting Sarajevo (by Ross)

Megan suggested that I contribute to her blog. Megan has already written about our experiences, and she has said most of what I have to say. I found Sarajevo beautiful. I thought her apartment was gorgeous. And, in Bosnia, I felt like I was a part of her “Otes Family”.

My most meaningful experiences in Sarajevo were talking to Professor R, and trying my best to communicate with people in the language that Professor R calls Bosnian/Croatian/Serbian. Professor R is a close friend of my student, Omer. Omer teaches English Composition at Loyola college, and he is an eager student with a true love of the guitar. He seemed apprehensive about giving me “errands” when I went to Sarajevo, but I am grateful to have met with his colleague, in order to run some “errands”. Omer had asked me to collect a book of translated poems from Professor R. On my plane-ride home, I read this book of poems about the “war” (this was no war.... it was a genocide with civilian targets), which Omer and Professor R translated... I cannot easily describe it.

Megan has written that the people in Bosnia seem somehow aware of their mortality, and that they seem willing to rest, to talk, to spend hours over coffee with those with whom they feel kinship. I thought this was true. We had one cup of coffee with our friends for over two hours.

Constantly, in Bosnia, I was thrilled with the positive reinforcement that I received whenever I tried to speak Bosnian (Omer, my student, says, “it is the language from hell, impossible”). Bosnian is difficult. I have never before dealt with a language that included “neuter” nouns, nor “cases”.

Now... Megan's life in Bosnia, as I perceived it: I experienced great friends, fast internet, hot water, cable television, many beautiful/sunny days........ and the day after I left, Megan's apartment's heat and water disappeared. Somehow, Bosnia seemed to therapeutically shift to reflect our moods when we were reunited. Everything was beautiful (and, to me, everything was new). I am excited to return to Bosnia and to spend time with Megan and her friends.

Somehow, Bosnia reminds me of Paris in the 90's (where I lived for a year at the age of 11). The colors, the street-musicians and beggars, the graffiti, the smoking, the BO: it all seems familiar. In a way, Bosnia seems less violent and less hectic than the United States.

Professor R told Megan and me that Bosnians affectionally call their country a nickname that roughly translates to “the land of earthly pleasures”. For me, Bosnia was a true pleasure. I was awestruck with the natural beauty of Bosnia and the kindness of its citizens (and oh, yes, the company of my beautiful wife!).

I will end with my own paraphrase of my favorite passage from the book of translated poems that I collected: “An old husband and wife are like wartime lighters: one without flint and the other without fuel. Only together, can they make a flame”.

California with Megan cannot come soon enough, and I eagerly await my next trip to Bosnia.