These are a few of the young people at a barbecue and at a cafe where we went to shelter from the rain as there was a thunderstorm. It was the same cafe that we had used for shelter the week before, but that time we had got more transport and more kids home before the rain. We played the animal game, you know, when you pretend to be an animal and make your noise and them someone else's noise. Another game that was a big hit was 'In the bag' with lots of names of Bosnian footballers mixing with Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt. We played that with the older age group, which was all guys aged 16-23.
The water in the river was freezing, so I declined my training schedule on that day and looked after the bags. We did do another trip to the pool though, where I got in another 2km swim. Now I am home and back to Bitterne fitness.
The barbecue on Friday night was particularly heavenly. There were about 25 young people there, and it felt so good with them all sitting down and mixing with each other, although some come from different sides of town. There are different school systems, fire and police services, hospitals, rubbish collections - everything is split in two. You might as well stick a wall up. Oh, someone did that before in Berlin and it didn't work! The fact that kids come from both sides to KNM is an amazing testimony to the work of the long term team and local workers to not show favour to any one group. In fact, they do a great job of serving the least and the poorest and they get counted in too. Reminded me of heaven.
On our last night we ate out at the poshest restaurant in town for our debriefing. Four of us had starters and main courses, all of which could have fed a family from one plate, for £21-22. It was on the west side, and as we didn't walk over there much I hadn't seen the grander bits of it. We walked past a graveyard, which had previously been a park. The thing that got me was that ALL the tombstones were acknowledging people who had died in 1992. Whether your life started in 1940, 1970 or 1991.
And they were all Muslim gravestones. On the Croat, west side of town. They were people who died defending the city against the Serbs in the initial battle for Mostar, when the Croats and Muslims joined together to defend their city. These Muslims were buried on the West side, and as the Croats then started fighting against the Muslims, from 1993-1995, the graves were left unmarked, as no Muslim widow would make her way across the front line to tend a grave - or had the cash to pay a mason, I guess. Apparently in 1998 a bus load of Muslims went across to tend the graves and got some kind of violent response. Things are better now, and it would be ok to go there. But how gutting and crushing to have your husband die defending his city with allies, who then turn on you when you are at your weakest and satrt firing at your house.
You can see, from my expert analysis of the war in Bosnia, that it is hard work to build a new bridge between the people groups. And that is what Novi Most (new bridge) are seeking, that is their calling, a hard and long work in a city which is dry and dusty spiritually as well as literally.
The water in the river was freezing, so I declined my training schedule on that day and looked after the bags. We did do another trip to the pool though, where I got in another 2km swim. Now I am home and back to Bitterne fitness.
The barbecue on Friday night was particularly heavenly. There were about 25 young people there, and it felt so good with them all sitting down and mixing with each other, although some come from different sides of town. There are different school systems, fire and police services, hospitals, rubbish collections - everything is split in two. You might as well stick a wall up. Oh, someone did that before in Berlin and it didn't work! The fact that kids come from both sides to KNM is an amazing testimony to the work of the long term team and local workers to not show favour to any one group. In fact, they do a great job of serving the least and the poorest and they get counted in too. Reminded me of heaven.
On our last night we ate out at the poshest restaurant in town for our debriefing. Four of us had starters and main courses, all of which could have fed a family from one plate, for £21-22. It was on the west side, and as we didn't walk over there much I hadn't seen the grander bits of it. We walked past a graveyard, which had previously been a park. The thing that got me was that ALL the tombstones were acknowledging people who had died in 1992. Whether your life started in 1940, 1970 or 1991.And they were all Muslim gravestones. On the Croat, west side of town. They were people who died defending the city against the Serbs in the initial battle for Mostar, when the Croats and Muslims joined together to defend their city. These Muslims were buried on the West side, and as the Croats then started fighting against the Muslims, from 1993-1995, the graves were left unmarked, as no Muslim widow would make her way across the front line to tend a grave - or had the cash to pay a mason, I guess. Apparently in 1998 a bus load of Muslims went across to tend the graves and got some kind of violent response. Things are better now, and it would be ok to go there. But how gutting and crushing to have your husband die defending his city with allies, who then turn on you when you are at your weakest and satrt firing at your house.
You can see, from my expert analysis of the war in Bosnia, that it is hard work to build a new bridge between the people groups. And that is what Novi Most (new bridge) are seeking, that is their calling, a hard and long work in a city which is dry and dusty spiritually as well as literally.
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