A little while back The Potty Diaries ran a great post detailing the differences between what you say and what you mean. You know those times when you say 'no problem' when actually it is been a massive pain in the backside or 'no, really, it's fine' when it so isn't.
These Lost In Translation moments are just magnified when you have children ('come along now darling!' actually meaning we've been here looking at that squished bug for 20 minutes and we have to get home pretty soon as I've something in the oven and my brain is contorting with having the same conversation with a toddler 50 times in the last 10 minutes). And then there are the misunderstandings that come from not actually speaking the language of the country in which you live moments too.
Anyhow, here are a few of my what I said and what it actually meant moments. Feel free to add some of your own.
To my children: 'it's ok, I'll take your back pack for you' = can you not see how much I'm already carrying? I've got 2 scooters, a back pack, my bag, a dog on a lead and I need 2 hands free to hold you two whilst crossing the road. Why didn't you leave your sodding backpack in the car like I told you to?
To the local police force who have just pulled me over: 'ne razumijem (I don't understand)' = I understand you well enough but if you want to pull over a car with English Licence plates for no reason whatsoever then you had better be able to speak enough English to explain why.
To my children: 'Won't playing Snakes and Ladders be such fun!' = I hate this bloody game. It is one of the most dull board games ever invented. I can't wait for you to be old enough to get involved in some decent board games and play cards properly too. Then we'll have fun.
To Nursery: 'Oh, so you've changed Luke's trousers because they got a tiny microscopic splash of water on them?' = Have you not seen my laundry pile??? These trousers aren't even wet. There is a one outfit of clothes per day rule in this house, however dirty they get, unless there is vomit, poo or are totally sodden. This doesn't even come close to qualifying!
To the ladies in the bakers: 'Ha ha ha!' = I have absolutely no idea what you just said. But you were definitely just talking about my husband, and I think you mentioned sex so I totally don't want to know what you are asking. I'll just smile, laugh a bit and hope to get out of here before you try to continue this conversation.
To any visitors: 'I think we've run out of Poppadoms' = They are ours! All ours! We don't hand them out to anyone, particularly those who might not appreciate how nice they are. Get your mitts off them and don't even think about coming close to the mango chutney.
To my children: 'What happened in here?' = Bloody Hell! it looks like a bomb exploded in here! How is it possible to make so much mess in the time it took me to pop to the loo. I should have known you were up to something when I wasn't disturbed for the whole loo moment. How on earth am I going to get nail varnish off the walls?
To the Primary Schools Admissions Teams in the UK: 'Yes, I know that we applied last year for entry this year, but the situation has changed and we don't actually live in the UK at the moment and I am informing you of our future plans.' = Are you seriously telling me that every person who has ever had a child that was sent to primary school has only ever moved house over the summer and has never been in a different school system? Life has a tendency not to fit in with your regulations so just deal with it and be thankful that I am calling you early to discuss this rather than phoning you and wanting a place in the next month. By the way, is being particularly difficult and a real jobsworth a prerequisite to employment in the council or have I just been unlucky in my dealings with you all?
To the Bosnian Authorities: 'which piece of paper is it that you need stamped again?' = **%%*^&E$$$*&$*$*&"&£*&£$(%$(£&!
To my children: 'No you can't have any chocolate, it's just before dinner and it isn't good for you' = it's mine, all mine.
To Adam: 'Yes, vegetables are really good for you, they are what Sporticus likes to eat. No, there aren't any vegetables in this tomato sauce' = There so are veggies in that sauce, but I have blitzed them into a creamy state in a hopeless attempt to get something healthy into you, but you don't appear to be buying into this idea. Just eat the bloody food will you, it does actually taste really good. Thank God for Lukey tucking into his no problem otherwise I really would be worrying about my ability to cook anything at all.
To Dave: 'I think I'm just a bit tired.' = I'm absolutely shattered and am hoping that is why I am behaving like a total witch rather than because I am a total witch.
To the boys: 'Just do what I say' = just do what I say. Preferably RIGHT NOW, before I have to ask you for the thousandth time in 5 minutes and before I lose the plot completely. Generally it is to stop you from hurting yourself, your brother or me, occasionally it is to stop you breaking something that isn't ours. But life would be a lot easier if you just did it. First time of asking.
Anyone else got some to add?
Friday, 6 November 2009
Thursday, 5 November 2009
The Red Red Tape Series
There aren't many things that I can say that I am an expert on. My chocolate brownies are really awesome (email me for the recipe). I have a specialised knowledge of which toys can be thrown furthest and do the most damage to the walls. I am extremely good at getting the maximum discounts in any sales that TOAST do (80% off people, expect nothing less). And now I have a new speciality: Bosnian Bureaucracy. Or more specifically Bosnian bureaucracy pertaining to expats. In Tuzla. It's a skill I shall be adding to my CV.
Dave keeps mentioning that I ought to write a post detailing the steps that need to be taken to obtain visas and import cars into this country. We would have found something like that really useful. But the thing is, it just doesn't make for very interesting reading. There is only so many times that I can write about the times we went to the police station and had to wait for hours and the boys went a bit loopy and ran dementedly up and down the corridors only to be told off by grumpy men who have nothing better to do than drink coffee and smoke cigarettes. There isn't much of a post in we took every single piece of documentation that we have to the notary and parted with a lot of money to get something stamped, only to have to do it again for a different ministry 2 weeks later. There have been some real high (low) lights of this process; our trip to the hospital to get the medical tests and the battle with the bureaucrats over our birth certificates both merited posts all of their own.
The most recent clash with the system has been getting our car temporarily imported. This has involved a trip to the nearest border (and associated 3 hour wait), a separate trip to a specialised import place which showed me a whole new part of Tuzla that I never even knew existed and surrendering all our documents to the police whilst we wait for the final licence plates to arrive (and being told that we are not to drive the car outside of Tuzla town until we get the documents back). We worked out the other day that it would have cost us less money AND taken less time to drive to the UK, re-register the car there and drive back to Tuzla. And we could have loaded the car up with chocolate hobnobs and mango chutney whilst we were at it.
Finally though, finally, we have heard that our new Bosnian plates are ready. I just have to go and pick them up. And that will be it. We have all the documentation that we need. It has only taken us 15 months of constant work to do it, but we defeated them in the end. This was great news and we may have been spotted dancing about the house last night singing Red Red Tape in the style of UB40, whilst waving around glasses of the more appropriate red wine in excitement. I'm not holding my breath just yet, we still need to get the actual plates on the car and there is always the Bosnian capacity to throw a final spanner into the works just when you think you have made it, but we are hopeful, nay giddy with excitement at the prospect of reaching the end of this road.
Everything expires in February. We have to start the whole process again after Christmas.
PS - if anyone reading this does want more information on importing a car into Bosnia, obtaining a Bosnian Residency Visa, setting up a company in BiH feel free to email me. We feel your pain already.
Dave keeps mentioning that I ought to write a post detailing the steps that need to be taken to obtain visas and import cars into this country. We would have found something like that really useful. But the thing is, it just doesn't make for very interesting reading. There is only so many times that I can write about the times we went to the police station and had to wait for hours and the boys went a bit loopy and ran dementedly up and down the corridors only to be told off by grumpy men who have nothing better to do than drink coffee and smoke cigarettes. There isn't much of a post in we took every single piece of documentation that we have to the notary and parted with a lot of money to get something stamped, only to have to do it again for a different ministry 2 weeks later. There have been some real high (low) lights of this process; our trip to the hospital to get the medical tests and the battle with the bureaucrats over our birth certificates both merited posts all of their own.
The most recent clash with the system has been getting our car temporarily imported. This has involved a trip to the nearest border (and associated 3 hour wait), a separate trip to a specialised import place which showed me a whole new part of Tuzla that I never even knew existed and surrendering all our documents to the police whilst we wait for the final licence plates to arrive (and being told that we are not to drive the car outside of Tuzla town until we get the documents back). We worked out the other day that it would have cost us less money AND taken less time to drive to the UK, re-register the car there and drive back to Tuzla. And we could have loaded the car up with chocolate hobnobs and mango chutney whilst we were at it.
Finally though, finally, we have heard that our new Bosnian plates are ready. I just have to go and pick them up. And that will be it. We have all the documentation that we need. It has only taken us 15 months of constant work to do it, but we defeated them in the end. This was great news and we may have been spotted dancing about the house last night singing Red Red Tape in the style of UB40, whilst waving around glasses of the more appropriate red wine in excitement. I'm not holding my breath just yet, we still need to get the actual plates on the car and there is always the Bosnian capacity to throw a final spanner into the works just when you think you have made it, but we are hopeful, nay giddy with excitement at the prospect of reaching the end of this road.
Everything expires in February. We have to start the whole process again after Christmas.
PS - if anyone reading this does want more information on importing a car into Bosnia, obtaining a Bosnian Residency Visa, setting up a company in BiH feel free to email me. We feel your pain already.
Monday, 2 November 2009
To blog or not to blog.
Life as an expat can be a lonely one. Particularly if you are at home with 2 small children to look after for much of the day and don't totally understand the culture in which you find yourself. Even more so if, although you speak Bosnian up to a point, it is nowhere near the standard needed for anyone to enjoy a relaxing conversation with you without having to concentrate very hard and wincing occasionally. There aren't many other expats in Tuzla, let alone expat families, let alone expat families with 2 children in the same age range as my two.
It is safe to say that I spend a lot of time on my own with my boys. There isn't much else to do around here, so we are at home at home. Organised activities for children are few and far between. No playgroups, music classes or jungle gyms for us here (at least that I have been able to find out about). The playgrounds are tiny and badly maintained and inevitably just a bit scary for a mother with two adventurous climbing little boys. We've just entered the season of mud meaning that every time we go out there is a World War 1 battlefield mudfest outside (and shortly afterwards inside too). We do know other people, Bosnians, with similar aged children but they all work full time, making arranging play dates difficult to do during the week. Other friends, without kids of their own, also come round on a fairly regular basis and we do really enjoy it, but nothing is quite like having other children of a similar age for the boys to play with.
Every now and then I read a post with envy, people say things like 'for once, we didn't have any organised play activities this afternoon'. I am desperate for some organised play activity, it would be wonderful. Organised play activities serve many purposes. We get out of the house. There are other adults there. The boys get a chance to do something different. And when we get back to the house, there are all the toys etc. that haven't been played with for a while so are interesting again.
Anyway, this isn't intended to be a post that waffles on forever about how hard it is not to have other Mummy mates. I've actually got used to it. We all have. I'm much better and more resourceful and working out things for us to do during the week, and the boys are that much older making it easier for me to find things for us to do too. No, what this post is all about is the importance of blogging to someone who is quite isolated, like me.
There has been a whole load of stuff written in the last week about Mummy Blogging. Is it too competitive? Too commercial? People are not enjoying their blogs, agonising over whether accepting advertising and reviews is selling out or not. So I wanted to wade in with my size 10s (actually size 7 and currently clad in some rather funky flower print trainers which I like very much, but I digress) and stick up a great big banner and shout from the rooftops 'WHAT MAKES BLOGGING BRILLIANT IS THE COMMUNITY!'.
I started blogging in June 2008, primarily to keep family and friends up to date with what we are up to, and to stop having to write the same emails to different people over and over again. This is my 280th post. I found that I enjoyed it. I really enjoyed it. Eventually I found the British Mummy Bloggers group and joined it out of interest. Suddenly there were all these other Mummys, writing, online about their experiences. I found myself potty training alongside Maternal Tales and Moaning Mum. It was wonderful to be able to share poo horror stories with them and get some support to push through the worst of that particularly joyous time of bringing up children. Now I'm trying to stop everyone peeing outside all the time (triggered by the wee race the boys had over the fence as a funeral cortege was making their dignified procession from the mosque next to our house) and am finding that Single Parent Dad has got similar problems. Some bloggers have got terrific ideas for things to do, Zoe Toft providing the idea for today's activity, making penguins.
I also found that the blogging community engages in blogs by leaving comments. I know that some of my family and friends read it (Mum tends to call me up after reading in order to discuss the days post, my mother in law amazes her son by knowing more about what the boys are up to than he does), but they tend not to comment. It is the other bloggers who comment and start a bit of a dialogue. For me, who can be feeling very alone and far away, this dialogue, two way conversation and individual connection to others is immensely rewarding. I read their blogs, they (occasionally) come and read mine. I know what is happening in their lives. It is my coffee moment, the time when I share experiences and feel a part of a community.
So, although I can see why people might feel that blogging is little like the old school playground where there are a few big cool kids who know everyone, who might come and talk to you or who might not. But, these kids are now all grown-up, and don't behave like kids can do. I have found the community to be kind and immensely supportive. I can see why people find blogging competitive or have a perception that it is all about the freebies (or looking down on those who take up the freebie offers). But like all things, blogging is what you make of it. I know why I blog, it is because I love that community, I love feeling connected to other people and I really enjoy writing my posts. The freebies, well no one wants to send them to Bosnia anyway, and as Susanna in A Modern Mother mentioned in her post on the topic, no one is going to get rich blogging. The 'best of' lists? Always nice to be mentioned but they don't actually mean anything.
This is not to say that I haven't had my moments wondering what the hell I am doing with this blog. It is time consuming and I have more than enough work to do as it is. Then there is the on-going identity crisis: am I a Mummy blog? An expat blog? A blog about Bosnia? Who knows, who cares? I am what I feel like being at that particular moment. I enjoy blogging, I enjoy writing about what I want to write about and I enjoy the feeling of being a part of a community. I hope that the others who are in more of a quandary will find their way to enjoy their blogs too.
It is safe to say that I spend a lot of time on my own with my boys. There isn't much else to do around here, so we are at home at home. Organised activities for children are few and far between. No playgroups, music classes or jungle gyms for us here (at least that I have been able to find out about). The playgrounds are tiny and badly maintained and inevitably just a bit scary for a mother with two adventurous climbing little boys. We've just entered the season of mud meaning that every time we go out there is a World War 1 battlefield mudfest outside (and shortly afterwards inside too). We do know other people, Bosnians, with similar aged children but they all work full time, making arranging play dates difficult to do during the week. Other friends, without kids of their own, also come round on a fairly regular basis and we do really enjoy it, but nothing is quite like having other children of a similar age for the boys to play with.
Every now and then I read a post with envy, people say things like 'for once, we didn't have any organised play activities this afternoon'. I am desperate for some organised play activity, it would be wonderful. Organised play activities serve many purposes. We get out of the house. There are other adults there. The boys get a chance to do something different. And when we get back to the house, there are all the toys etc. that haven't been played with for a while so are interesting again.
Anyway, this isn't intended to be a post that waffles on forever about how hard it is not to have other Mummy mates. I've actually got used to it. We all have. I'm much better and more resourceful and working out things for us to do during the week, and the boys are that much older making it easier for me to find things for us to do too. No, what this post is all about is the importance of blogging to someone who is quite isolated, like me.
There has been a whole load of stuff written in the last week about Mummy Blogging. Is it too competitive? Too commercial? People are not enjoying their blogs, agonising over whether accepting advertising and reviews is selling out or not. So I wanted to wade in with my size 10s (actually size 7 and currently clad in some rather funky flower print trainers which I like very much, but I digress) and stick up a great big banner and shout from the rooftops 'WHAT MAKES BLOGGING BRILLIANT IS THE COMMUNITY!'.
I started blogging in June 2008, primarily to keep family and friends up to date with what we are up to, and to stop having to write the same emails to different people over and over again. This is my 280th post. I found that I enjoyed it. I really enjoyed it. Eventually I found the British Mummy Bloggers group and joined it out of interest. Suddenly there were all these other Mummys, writing, online about their experiences. I found myself potty training alongside Maternal Tales and Moaning Mum. It was wonderful to be able to share poo horror stories with them and get some support to push through the worst of that particularly joyous time of bringing up children. Now I'm trying to stop everyone peeing outside all the time (triggered by the wee race the boys had over the fence as a funeral cortege was making their dignified procession from the mosque next to our house) and am finding that Single Parent Dad has got similar problems. Some bloggers have got terrific ideas for things to do, Zoe Toft providing the idea for today's activity, making penguins.
I also found that the blogging community engages in blogs by leaving comments. I know that some of my family and friends read it (Mum tends to call me up after reading in order to discuss the days post, my mother in law amazes her son by knowing more about what the boys are up to than he does), but they tend not to comment. It is the other bloggers who comment and start a bit of a dialogue. For me, who can be feeling very alone and far away, this dialogue, two way conversation and individual connection to others is immensely rewarding. I read their blogs, they (occasionally) come and read mine. I know what is happening in their lives. It is my coffee moment, the time when I share experiences and feel a part of a community.
So, although I can see why people might feel that blogging is little like the old school playground where there are a few big cool kids who know everyone, who might come and talk to you or who might not. But, these kids are now all grown-up, and don't behave like kids can do. I have found the community to be kind and immensely supportive. I can see why people find blogging competitive or have a perception that it is all about the freebies (or looking down on those who take up the freebie offers). But like all things, blogging is what you make of it. I know why I blog, it is because I love that community, I love feeling connected to other people and I really enjoy writing my posts. The freebies, well no one wants to send them to Bosnia anyway, and as Susanna in A Modern Mother mentioned in her post on the topic, no one is going to get rich blogging. The 'best of' lists? Always nice to be mentioned but they don't actually mean anything.
This is not to say that I haven't had my moments wondering what the hell I am doing with this blog. It is time consuming and I have more than enough work to do as it is. Then there is the on-going identity crisis: am I a Mummy blog? An expat blog? A blog about Bosnia? Who knows, who cares? I am what I feel like being at that particular moment. I enjoy blogging, I enjoy writing about what I want to write about and I enjoy the feeling of being a part of a community. I hope that the others who are in more of a quandary will find their way to enjoy their blogs too.
Friday, 30 October 2009
Dear So and So: Bosnian Version Part VI
It's been a while since my last Dear So and So, but it is a miserable dank damp day outside and writing some always cheer me up. So, my pen is out, I have postcards with pretty pictures of Tuzla assembled and away we go.
**********************************
Dear Outside Dog,
I have no idea where you go all day, but I'm always pleased to feel you curling around my legs at dinner time as I tend to worry that you have become today's road kill. Everyone else teases me for making you a hot water bottle every night to keep you warm, but I think you like it. You'll never be an inside dog, your stray mentality is too strongly entrenched, but I love having you around. Plus you are a much better guard dog than that great big wussy Golden Retriever that lives here all the time.
Yours, with an extra large piece of off-cut meat,
Fraught Mummy x
******************************************
Dear Adam,
You are ever so clever for putting on your PJ's all by yourself. But was it totally necessary to announce straight afterwards that 'I don't need Mummy any more' . Daggers to the heart. Ice cold daggers.
Your suddenly panicking about my big growing up boy Mummy xxx
******************************************
Dear PhD Supervisor,
I'm looking forward to you coming out to visit next week. Obviously I have been doing far too much blogging and not nearly enough work, but I'm hoping by dazzling you with Bosnia you might not notice. But, if you don't bring a box of tea bags with you, you do run a strong risk of being left to fend for yourself on a snowy mountainous road in the Republika Srpska. Just saying.
Your errant student,
FM
******************************************
Dear Bosnian Car Import authorities,
There is no other way to say this. I have said it to you many times. So here we go again. THE BRITISH CAR AUTHORITIES DON'T ISSUE CAR EXPORT CERTIFICATES. This doesn't change however much you ask me for it. We are only trying to temporarily import the car. You have got 6,000KM of my money held hostage until we re-export it. I have spent HOURS of my life hanging around several different customs offices trying to keep small children amused and out of trouble. Trust me, if we didn't HAVE to import the car, we wouldn't be. So give us the bloody Bosnian plates and I'll keep out of your hair until we leave the country.
Yours, seriously blowing a gasket and with a genuine worry for my blood pressure,
FM
******************************************
Dear Tuzla Police,
Given the difficulties we are having in trying to comply with your laws (see previous postcard) was it really necessary to order that the car is only able to drive within the confines of the city of Tuzla? We can't even go to visit some friends in the countryside 15 minutes drive away. How long is this going to go on for? I've got myself some serious cabin fever going on. Please can someone give us the goddamn bloody licence plates!
Yours, having taken to hissing at the police station every time we drive past,
FM
*******************************************
Dear Market Stall holders,
I know that there are pumpkins here, because I can see them growing everywhere. I also know that most people only grow them to feed the pigs. But as it is very very nearly Halloween and I'd like to spend the afternoon carving pumpkins with the boys, could you please just find one or two to sell to us?
Yours, wanting to be all scary and spooky,
FM
******************************************
To all those PR people who write to me offering products to review,
It is always nice to receive an offer for something to review, and I always have a good look to see whether I want to do it. But, if I reply that I'm game, to then decide that you can't post the article to Bosnia is a bit poor. It shouldn't come as a total surprise that I'm based in Bosnia, did you look at the blog name before contacting me? And comments that you are worried about things getting lost in the post are such garbage - last time I looked it wasn't the Bosnian Postal system that was on strike.
Yours, confident that my postcards will reach you,
FM
*******************************************
Dear smart Bosnian clothing stores in the centre of town,
How can you charge so much for your clothes? My eyes water every time I see your prices, they'd be expensive in the UK, let alone here. And your sales are rubbish. 10% simply doesn't constitute a sale. I'm looking for 50% at least.
Yours, still needing another jumper,
FM
******************************************
Dear cheaper Bosnian clothing stores,
You totally believe in pile em high and sell them cheap (or at least cheaper). But trying to find something that fits my children when I can't see my children as they have disappeared under the piles of strewn about clothing is very tricky.
Yours, unable to take the pressure of stopping the boys manically jumping on everything in your stores, FM
****************************************
Dear Boys,
I've really been enjoying the last couple of days with you. The fighting doesn't seem as bad, the screaming and shrieking a bit less frequent and we've come up with some good games. My favourite has been wriggling around on the floor with straws in our mouths pretending to be divers. I'm starting to feel a bit less freaked about the long, cold, dark winter months ahead. You two, well you two are absolutely great.
Love you so much,
Mummy xxx
*****************************************
Want a go yourself? Head on over to Kat's 3 Bedroom Bungalow to add your name to the list. It's like therapy but better.
**********************************
Dear Outside Dog,
I have no idea where you go all day, but I'm always pleased to feel you curling around my legs at dinner time as I tend to worry that you have become today's road kill. Everyone else teases me for making you a hot water bottle every night to keep you warm, but I think you like it. You'll never be an inside dog, your stray mentality is too strongly entrenched, but I love having you around. Plus you are a much better guard dog than that great big wussy Golden Retriever that lives here all the time.
Yours, with an extra large piece of off-cut meat,
Fraught Mummy x
******************************************
Dear Adam,
You are ever so clever for putting on your PJ's all by yourself. But was it totally necessary to announce straight afterwards that 'I don't need Mummy any more' . Daggers to the heart. Ice cold daggers.
Your suddenly panicking about my big growing up boy Mummy xxx
******************************************
Dear PhD Supervisor,
I'm looking forward to you coming out to visit next week. Obviously I have been doing far too much blogging and not nearly enough work, but I'm hoping by dazzling you with Bosnia you might not notice. But, if you don't bring a box of tea bags with you, you do run a strong risk of being left to fend for yourself on a snowy mountainous road in the Republika Srpska. Just saying.
Your errant student,
FM
******************************************
Dear Bosnian Car Import authorities,
There is no other way to say this. I have said it to you many times. So here we go again. THE BRITISH CAR AUTHORITIES DON'T ISSUE CAR EXPORT CERTIFICATES. This doesn't change however much you ask me for it. We are only trying to temporarily import the car. You have got 6,000KM of my money held hostage until we re-export it. I have spent HOURS of my life hanging around several different customs offices trying to keep small children amused and out of trouble. Trust me, if we didn't HAVE to import the car, we wouldn't be. So give us the bloody Bosnian plates and I'll keep out of your hair until we leave the country.
Yours, seriously blowing a gasket and with a genuine worry for my blood pressure,
FM
******************************************
Dear Tuzla Police,
Given the difficulties we are having in trying to comply with your laws (see previous postcard) was it really necessary to order that the car is only able to drive within the confines of the city of Tuzla? We can't even go to visit some friends in the countryside 15 minutes drive away. How long is this going to go on for? I've got myself some serious cabin fever going on. Please can someone give us the goddamn bloody licence plates!
Yours, having taken to hissing at the police station every time we drive past,
FM
*******************************************
Dear Market Stall holders,
I know that there are pumpkins here, because I can see them growing everywhere. I also know that most people only grow them to feed the pigs. But as it is very very nearly Halloween and I'd like to spend the afternoon carving pumpkins with the boys, could you please just find one or two to sell to us?
Yours, wanting to be all scary and spooky,
FM
******************************************
To all those PR people who write to me offering products to review,
It is always nice to receive an offer for something to review, and I always have a good look to see whether I want to do it. But, if I reply that I'm game, to then decide that you can't post the article to Bosnia is a bit poor. It shouldn't come as a total surprise that I'm based in Bosnia, did you look at the blog name before contacting me? And comments that you are worried about things getting lost in the post are such garbage - last time I looked it wasn't the Bosnian Postal system that was on strike.
Yours, confident that my postcards will reach you,
FM
*******************************************
Dear smart Bosnian clothing stores in the centre of town,
How can you charge so much for your clothes? My eyes water every time I see your prices, they'd be expensive in the UK, let alone here. And your sales are rubbish. 10% simply doesn't constitute a sale. I'm looking for 50% at least.
Yours, still needing another jumper,
FM
******************************************
Dear cheaper Bosnian clothing stores,
You totally believe in pile em high and sell them cheap (or at least cheaper). But trying to find something that fits my children when I can't see my children as they have disappeared under the piles of strewn about clothing is very tricky.
Yours, unable to take the pressure of stopping the boys manically jumping on everything in your stores, FM
****************************************
Dear Boys,
I've really been enjoying the last couple of days with you. The fighting doesn't seem as bad, the screaming and shrieking a bit less frequent and we've come up with some good games. My favourite has been wriggling around on the floor with straws in our mouths pretending to be divers. I'm starting to feel a bit less freaked about the long, cold, dark winter months ahead. You two, well you two are absolutely great.
Love you so much,
Mummy xxx
*****************************************
Want a go yourself? Head on over to Kat's 3 Bedroom Bungalow to add your name to the list. It's like therapy but better.
Wednesday, 28 October 2009
Happy Machines
The other weekend we spent a very pleasant afternoon in the company of a Happy Machine (a Bosnian still for making plum brandy for the uninitiated amongst you). It was rather late in the year as everyone felt a little guilty about making very strong alcohol during Ramadan, but no one seemed to be having too much guilt about drinking large quantities of the stuff immediately afterwards.
The men sat around stirring the plums, sterilizing the machine, bringing it all to the boil, watching it condense down, measuring the alcohol content with a whizzy little gadget that floats in the liquor and tasting it all to make sure it was all ok. We could see which the most important aspect of the process was judging by the amount of time spent tasting the output. The rest of us ate large quantities of food, the kids ran riot outside and life was good.
This brewing of the sljiva is an integral part of Bosnian culture (Muslims many of them may be, teetotal Muslims they are not). It is one of the autumnal rituals. The rumours that are running rife that the EU would ban the Happy Machines (bah humbug to the miserable fun stealing Brussels bureaucrats) are seriously testing Bosnians desire to join the Europe. I think most sane countries have banned the stills years ago, but this doesn't appear to deter the Bosnians. Apparently those who have emigrated to other European countries still manage to get their fix, just making sure the brewing happens indoors behind drawn curtains.
Dave loves this part of being in Bosnia. He looks forward to a Happy Machine afternoon, even though he doesn't really like the end result. I hadn't really paid much attention to this interest, right up the point I discovered him in the supermarket supposedly shopping for milk and cheese gazing covetously at and seriously considering buying a brand new still. A snip at only 2,400KM (1,200Euros).
Happily we remain Happy Machine-less after some fast talking on my part and a reality check on the state of our bank account on his. May we go to many more afternoons where the brandy is brewed, but I'm not Bosnian enough to want it happening in my garage.
******************
If you've had enough sljiva and are feeling brave enough, then make straight for the brilliant Hot Cross Mum's Halloween Best of British Mummy Blogging Carnival
The men sat around stirring the plums, sterilizing the machine, bringing it all to the boil, watching it condense down, measuring the alcohol content with a whizzy little gadget that floats in the liquor and tasting it all to make sure it was all ok. We could see which the most important aspect of the process was judging by the amount of time spent tasting the output. The rest of us ate large quantities of food, the kids ran riot outside and life was good.
This brewing of the sljiva is an integral part of Bosnian culture (Muslims many of them may be, teetotal Muslims they are not). It is one of the autumnal rituals. The rumours that are running rife that the EU would ban the Happy Machines (bah humbug to the miserable fun stealing Brussels bureaucrats) are seriously testing Bosnians desire to join the Europe. I think most sane countries have banned the stills years ago, but this doesn't appear to deter the Bosnians. Apparently those who have emigrated to other European countries still manage to get their fix, just making sure the brewing happens indoors behind drawn curtains.
Dave loves this part of being in Bosnia. He looks forward to a Happy Machine afternoon, even though he doesn't really like the end result. I hadn't really paid much attention to this interest, right up the point I discovered him in the supermarket supposedly shopping for milk and cheese gazing covetously at and seriously considering buying a brand new still. A snip at only 2,400KM (1,200Euros).
Happily we remain Happy Machine-less after some fast talking on my part and a reality check on the state of our bank account on his. May we go to many more afternoons where the brandy is brewed, but I'm not Bosnian enough to want it happening in my garage.
******************
If you've had enough sljiva and are feeling brave enough, then make straight for the brilliant Hot Cross Mum's Halloween Best of British Mummy Blogging Carnival
Monday, 26 October 2009
Bosnia, back in the spotlight.
Today is supposed to mark the start of the trial of Radovan Karadzic, accused of 11 counts of genocide, war crimes and crimes against humanity. Undoubtedly there will be twists and turns, Karadzic will be playing the International Criminal Court for all he is worth. He is unlikely to turn up, will refuse to recognise the courts jurisdiction, will claim he hasn't had enough time to prepare his defence and will be doing all in his power to discredit the court and drag the trial out indeterminably.
I will write a post at some point talking about the trial and how people feel about it here. It is, as you can imagine, a contentious issue. Some people passionately feel that the trial is needed; to establish what happened, to create a legally recognised truth that can't be twisted by every side to suit its own agendas. Others feel that it is important that those responsible for creating the events of the 1992-95 conflict are held to account, made to take responsibility for their actions. On the other hand there are some who would rather that the events of the war were placed firmly in the past, and who wonder if whether another trial highlighting Srebrenica and the siege of Sarajevo serves to keep Bosnia firmly orientated towards its conflict years, preventing them from looking towards the future. Of course there are also those who vehemently protest against the proceedings, claiming them to be unfair and illegitimate.
But the start of the trial, coming as it does as the various political Bosnian leaders are trying (or not trying so much) to establish how the country can move forward out of the political molasses pit that they seem to have found themselves in, will put Bosnia back onto the global news agenda. Whilst most people here think that the articles in The Telegraph and Time Magazine claiming that Bosnia is once again on the brink of war, to be an exaggeration of the situation and a strategic move by the internatinal community to put pressure upon the Bosnian politicians, there is definitely a sense that this is a crucial moment in post war Bosnia. Suddenly people who usually ignore the political shenanigans are talking about it. There are rumours about some people rearming themselves (but then again, there are always rumours about people rearming themselves).
These next couple of months will be interesting times for Bosnia. And now I am starting to understand why it is that the Chinese saying 'may you live in interesting times' is understood to be a curse.
I will write a post at some point talking about the trial and how people feel about it here. It is, as you can imagine, a contentious issue. Some people passionately feel that the trial is needed; to establish what happened, to create a legally recognised truth that can't be twisted by every side to suit its own agendas. Others feel that it is important that those responsible for creating the events of the 1992-95 conflict are held to account, made to take responsibility for their actions. On the other hand there are some who would rather that the events of the war were placed firmly in the past, and who wonder if whether another trial highlighting Srebrenica and the siege of Sarajevo serves to keep Bosnia firmly orientated towards its conflict years, preventing them from looking towards the future. Of course there are also those who vehemently protest against the proceedings, claiming them to be unfair and illegitimate.
But the start of the trial, coming as it does as the various political Bosnian leaders are trying (or not trying so much) to establish how the country can move forward out of the political molasses pit that they seem to have found themselves in, will put Bosnia back onto the global news agenda. Whilst most people here think that the articles in The Telegraph and Time Magazine claiming that Bosnia is once again on the brink of war, to be an exaggeration of the situation and a strategic move by the internatinal community to put pressure upon the Bosnian politicians, there is definitely a sense that this is a crucial moment in post war Bosnia. Suddenly people who usually ignore the political shenanigans are talking about it. There are rumours about some people rearming themselves (but then again, there are always rumours about people rearming themselves).
These next couple of months will be interesting times for Bosnia. And now I am starting to understand why it is that the Chinese saying 'may you live in interesting times' is understood to be a curse.
Friday, 23 October 2009
24 Hours: Tuzla
A new guide book for London is coming out in the next few weeks, showing ideas for stuff to do for each hour. Called 24 Hours: London - an insiders guide to London's Best Kept Secrets, the idea is that it will give you ideas for things to do at a given hour. So, 4pm tea at the Ritz, 10pm dancing stupidly outside a nightclub in South Kensington, 2am hunting for food down the Fulham Rd. That sort of thing.
The idea got picked up by Mike from Postcards Across the Pond, who wrote his own personal 24 hour guide for Horsham. Horsham wasn't quite as busy as London, but there was a lot to do if you are out and about in Horsham, as long as it involves pubs or parks.
So I thought I'd give this a go. Noone writes guide books for Tuzla. Even the official Bosnia guide book says, somewhat diplomatically, that this area isn't really set up for tourism. So, here we go, the 24 hour guide for Tuzla. (readers who know Tuzla, feel free to point out which amazing Tuzla experiences I've missed in the comments section)
5am: All quiet, except the yowling of the stray dogs. Stay in bed and put duvet over head to try and drown out the sound.
6am: At some point during this hour the early morning call to prayer will go off. People start to get up, but I advise remaining in bed with duvet over head.
7am: Everyone up and about and off to work. Many people haven't had any coffee yet, so strongly advise not making contact with anyone until they have had their caffeine hit.
8am: Office hours start at 8am. Things start to open. Pop into a bakers to pick up some pastries, chocolate and jam are widely available. The bread is also freshly baked and excellent.
9am: Venture out into town. Pop into a cafe to plan your day. Coffee, in the form of espresso will be available wherever you are. If you are feeling braver ask for a kafa domaci, which is like a Turkish coffee, complete with turbo fuelled sludge at the bottom. Drink it black and very sweet.
10am: Remember that you have some outstanding bureaucratic issues to deal with. You are in Bosnia after all and your stay is not complete if you do not do battle with bureaucracy somewhere. Find appropriate ministry and enter. Leave shortly afterwards as everyone is on a 'pauza' and having coffee.
11am: Head for a stroll in the centre of town. The new square, trg sloboda (Freedom Square) is a very pleasant place to sit by the fountain under the tree and watch the town pass by. If you are lucky you may see a wedding spilling out of the registry office, with all the brass bands, photo sessions and throwing of money before the drama moves on elsewhere. Then, move along past the cafes and down the pedestrainised Korzo.
12pm: Attempt to complete bureaucratic procedure. Everyone now having lunch. Go to the market instead and browse all sorts of things from mobile phone covers to jeans to fruit and honey.
1pm: Lunch. Should the weather be agreeable do find a restaurant which allows you to sit outside. The restaurant Krcma, near Trg Sloboda is a great place. Cheap and quick, but serves good food whilst sitting outside on wooden benches. It is all pedestrianised to small children can run rampant outside without causing too much trouble. Although do try to prevent them running into the nearby mosque (which is beautiful) as this is not a good thing.
2pm: Head out to the park Slana Banja on the north side of town. The new playground is now open, but muddy. The park itself has some great views over the town as well as some good clay tennis courts.
3pm: Wander down to the Pannonika Lakes (newly built salt water lakes) for a swim. If you are here during winter these will be shut, but they may have erected an ice skating rink and trampolines instead.
4pm: Head up to the park of Ilincica up on the hills to the south of the city. Here the woods have a certain mystical quality to them, but beware the epic amounts of rubbish that blight this beautiful place.
5pm: It has been at least 3 hours since you had coffee. How are you still standing? Find a cafe, any cafe and reinject yourself with caffiene. A good one to go to is the one by the pedestrian bridge over the river/sludge fest ditch which also serves good cakes.
6pm: Take a pause. Everyone else will be.
7pm: Get ready to go out. The look in this town is all about glamour. Your heels must be high, your hair sorted, your make-up on (and boys, you need to look good too).
8pm: Join the crowds strolling along the Korzo. Stop off at a cafe there for a pre-dinner drink and watch and be watched.
9pm: Decide what sort of food you are after. If it is traditional Bosnian then I'd recommend the Biblioteka restaurant otherwise think pizza and join the debate on whether it is Heartland or Dalma who make the best pizzas in town.
10pm: Head down to see if they have any live music in the Salt Square and linger. Lingering is a national pastime. Don't be afraid to nurse a drink for hours.
11pm: Head to the cafes just off the Korzo or to Cafe Sydney near the National Theatre. Alternatively buy yourself something to drink and join the youth of the city by the Jala (river/sludge fest mentioned earlier).
12am: Wonder where to go next. Walk around a lot trying to get in contact with other people in Tuzla. Eventually decide to go to The Underground. It will be packed, loud and the music a mix of Bosnian and English language covers. There will be lots of cigarette smoking. There will be lots of beer. There will be lots of singing along badly to the music. It's fun. Recommended.
1am: Try out Jazz for a smaller, more intimate venue, which is also in a cellar, with live (usually acoustic) music, chain smokers and lots of beer.
2am: This is Tuzla, everything shuts now unless you know someone who knows someone.
3am: Head home. Watch Turbo folk on TV and drink beer and plum brandy.
4am: You are still awake? How? More Turbofolk, beer and sljiva. Now go to sleep. You have more coffee to drink tomorrow.
Anyone else fancy giving it their hometown a 24 Guide makeover? Take up the meme, and make sure you let Marsha (the author of the original book) know as she is putting together a list of these guides.
The idea got picked up by Mike from Postcards Across the Pond, who wrote his own personal 24 hour guide for Horsham. Horsham wasn't quite as busy as London, but there was a lot to do if you are out and about in Horsham, as long as it involves pubs or parks.
So I thought I'd give this a go. Noone writes guide books for Tuzla. Even the official Bosnia guide book says, somewhat diplomatically, that this area isn't really set up for tourism. So, here we go, the 24 hour guide for Tuzla. (readers who know Tuzla, feel free to point out which amazing Tuzla experiences I've missed in the comments section)
5am: All quiet, except the yowling of the stray dogs. Stay in bed and put duvet over head to try and drown out the sound.
6am: At some point during this hour the early morning call to prayer will go off. People start to get up, but I advise remaining in bed with duvet over head.
7am: Everyone up and about and off to work. Many people haven't had any coffee yet, so strongly advise not making contact with anyone until they have had their caffeine hit.
8am: Office hours start at 8am. Things start to open. Pop into a bakers to pick up some pastries, chocolate and jam are widely available. The bread is also freshly baked and excellent.
9am: Venture out into town. Pop into a cafe to plan your day. Coffee, in the form of espresso will be available wherever you are. If you are feeling braver ask for a kafa domaci, which is like a Turkish coffee, complete with turbo fuelled sludge at the bottom. Drink it black and very sweet.
10am: Remember that you have some outstanding bureaucratic issues to deal with. You are in Bosnia after all and your stay is not complete if you do not do battle with bureaucracy somewhere. Find appropriate ministry and enter. Leave shortly afterwards as everyone is on a 'pauza' and having coffee.
11am: Head for a stroll in the centre of town. The new square, trg sloboda (Freedom Square) is a very pleasant place to sit by the fountain under the tree and watch the town pass by. If you are lucky you may see a wedding spilling out of the registry office, with all the brass bands, photo sessions and throwing of money before the drama moves on elsewhere. Then, move along past the cafes and down the pedestrainised Korzo.
12pm: Attempt to complete bureaucratic procedure. Everyone now having lunch. Go to the market instead and browse all sorts of things from mobile phone covers to jeans to fruit and honey.
1pm: Lunch. Should the weather be agreeable do find a restaurant which allows you to sit outside. The restaurant Krcma, near Trg Sloboda is a great place. Cheap and quick, but serves good food whilst sitting outside on wooden benches. It is all pedestrianised to small children can run rampant outside without causing too much trouble. Although do try to prevent them running into the nearby mosque (which is beautiful) as this is not a good thing.
2pm: Head out to the park Slana Banja on the north side of town. The new playground is now open, but muddy. The park itself has some great views over the town as well as some good clay tennis courts.
3pm: Wander down to the Pannonika Lakes (newly built salt water lakes) for a swim. If you are here during winter these will be shut, but they may have erected an ice skating rink and trampolines instead.
4pm: Head up to the park of Ilincica up on the hills to the south of the city. Here the woods have a certain mystical quality to them, but beware the epic amounts of rubbish that blight this beautiful place.
5pm: It has been at least 3 hours since you had coffee. How are you still standing? Find a cafe, any cafe and reinject yourself with caffiene. A good one to go to is the one by the pedestrian bridge over the river/sludge fest ditch which also serves good cakes.
6pm: Take a pause. Everyone else will be.
7pm: Get ready to go out. The look in this town is all about glamour. Your heels must be high, your hair sorted, your make-up on (and boys, you need to look good too).
8pm: Join the crowds strolling along the Korzo. Stop off at a cafe there for a pre-dinner drink and watch and be watched.
9pm: Decide what sort of food you are after. If it is traditional Bosnian then I'd recommend the Biblioteka restaurant otherwise think pizza and join the debate on whether it is Heartland or Dalma who make the best pizzas in town.
10pm: Head down to see if they have any live music in the Salt Square and linger. Lingering is a national pastime. Don't be afraid to nurse a drink for hours.
11pm: Head to the cafes just off the Korzo or to Cafe Sydney near the National Theatre. Alternatively buy yourself something to drink and join the youth of the city by the Jala (river/sludge fest mentioned earlier).
12am: Wonder where to go next. Walk around a lot trying to get in contact with other people in Tuzla. Eventually decide to go to The Underground. It will be packed, loud and the music a mix of Bosnian and English language covers. There will be lots of cigarette smoking. There will be lots of beer. There will be lots of singing along badly to the music. It's fun. Recommended.
1am: Try out Jazz for a smaller, more intimate venue, which is also in a cellar, with live (usually acoustic) music, chain smokers and lots of beer.
2am: This is Tuzla, everything shuts now unless you know someone who knows someone.
3am: Head home. Watch Turbo folk on TV and drink beer and plum brandy.
4am: You are still awake? How? More Turbofolk, beer and sljiva. Now go to sleep. You have more coffee to drink tomorrow.
Anyone else fancy giving it their hometown a 24 Guide makeover? Take up the meme, and make sure you let Marsha (the author of the original book) know as she is putting together a list of these guides.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
