We say our goodbyes and the bus drives off to Sarajevo, and despite foiling the attempt of a money pincher from my briefly unattended bag - "LOUSHE," I decree to him, wagging a finger at him, "LOUSHE!" This means bad, and I say this as I shake his hand, it is wrong and I want him to know this, but I don't hold it against him. I am angry, more so that a security guard has no intention of telling him off or calling over a police officer, as nothing has been stolen. Maybe I am naive, but I do feel sorry for the man, in my opinion cowed by whatever life he leads into a very mild and weak demeanour.
Sarajevo. Suki, who is going to let me have his couch for tonight (couchsurfing is brilliant) meets me at 5 on the steps of the cathedral and after pocking up a copy of the acclaimed short story collection, "Sarajevo Marlborough", by Miljenko Jergovic, a collection based upon his experiences during the time the city was under siege from 1990, we go for Ćevapi and talk together, well we try to talk, that is when he is not being noticed for his appearance on a reality TV show, managing two months of surely an exquisite and banal torture. And he is also a journalist, working for the local TV company, so again I feel quite fortunate to have met a mini-hub of the city, and one who is so generous to pay for my Ćevapi.
I don't know if I have yet to mention this, but my feeling from this trip is overridingly that I have discovered so much goodness in people that I wouldn't have otherwise found, and the reason was that I was a person that, in this case in terms of accommodation, was asking for help. And so you really find people are good when you ask them for something. You give them an opportunity in fact!
His flat, halfway up a hill which cuts straight down to the banks of the river , 100 metres from the central quarter, has a massive terrace with a panoramic view of the city, and he begins to show me on his tv a short film he has put together of a couchsurfing host who has had 200 visitors! Bosnia, to this knowledge is open! Australian swedish and german visitors, to name just a few examples in a full 24 hours here now, this is an international city. Graffiti bears the name of Srebrenica and there are mortar-looking pock marks on the buildings, Suki has some paraphernalčis form the war and mentions it with feeling, I shall ask him about it tomorrow. At night I watch the sun go down on the aforementioned terrace and feel quite royally at war with myself as the tranquil and beautiful note of a man calls the city to prayer, being an ousider is occasionally playing with my mind.
I awake in fresher mood, the people of the city being polte and friendly as Ia sk them for directions, one girl says the people here are not very kind, perhaps friendly with me as I am a foeigner, but I am making an effort, and know perhaps 50 words! Well, as they say even here, Ciao and hopefully see you soon...