Today we hopped back on the bus for another beautiful, yet
nauseating road trip to Lukomir, a mountain town that was not affected by the
war, and had an amazing view. The people that live in the town are primarily
elderly and only spend their summers in Lukomir and their winters further down
the mountains, where it’s a little warmer.
Today we hiked with our guide, Damir (who was another VERY
attractive Bosnian man). Unfortunately, Ann and our other guide, Nettim
couldn’t do the 3hour hike because they had leg injuries. Damir had told us
that the hike was flat but as we began up a steep hill, I immediately
questioned his definition of “flat”. Falling behind, I was so out of breath and
hot and I watched as the rest of the group kept going up and up. I immediately
starting doubting myself, but more than that I became angry that I wasn’t doing
the hike at my own pace. I know, I know…..first world problems! I bet there’s
wasn’t that type of complaining when refugees walked up hills and mountains to
flee the country. Instead of pushing myself or moving beyond my doubts and
challenging myself, I stopped.
Michelle commented on how red my face was and how much I was
sweating and I thought “if you had met my father one any given warm day or
through any physical exertion, you would know how normal that is”. Anyway, when
we spoke to the guide behind us- who the group named appropriately, “Rambo”, he
told us that it kept going up and up and then it was up and down. And then I
decided that I wasn’t going further. I think I said things like “altitude
really bothers me” and “maybe it’s all of the hookah that I smoked”. Either
way, I talked myself back down the mountain.
With Julie in tow, we went back down the to the café and sat
with Ann and Nettim for the afternoon. Julie and I took a walk through hthe
town where we came across a woman selling hand-made, wool socks. We knew that
when we met the rest of the group at the top of Lukomir that we would be buying
socks so I didn’t want to buy any but the woman was so beautiful and her face
had some much character like it has some interesting stories to tell. I had to
take a photo of her. I used Julie’s camera to take her picture and gave her 5km.
Afterwards, Julie said that she felt like it wasn’t appropriate for me to take
her photo and that it was mostly because she didn’t tink the woman understood
what I was asking. I completely understood Julie’s concerns and hesitations but
I felt more comfortable offering her money and taking a photo of her rather
than sneaking a photo or not offering her something in return and it was fairly
obvious that she could use the money.
Then Julie and I went for a walk through a field of
wildflowers. The filed sat at the bottom of the mountains amongst farms and
mountain homes. It felt like we were in the field in the sound of music. We
could hear women singing and music playing in the distance. Julie wanted to go
back because she felt the sun on her skin and thought she might be getting
sunburned so we returned to the café, where we had kaffa and lots of laughs
with Nettim and Ann.
The rest of the day was a long drive back and was spent have
an early dinner and to bed early. Tomorrow we go to the Sarajevo University’s
school of Political Science where we meet with some of the Social Worker
professors who will give us more insight into social work practice in Bosnia.
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