In Bosnia - quick update

Chris and Andreja's Big Fat Croatian Wedding was wonderful. The actual wedding activities lasted about 12 hours, from four in the afternoon, until about four in the morning. Much eating, drinking, dancing, singing, and general celebration. I felt lucky to have been invited, and I'm sorry to all you many folks who would have liked to have come but couldn't - I was thinking of you and wishing you could have been there. I'll post some pictures when I get a chance.

Last night was church, and apparently there has been some amount of buzz about my coming to visit. It's really quite strange - I don't feel like I warrant that much excitement! Most of the people from my old church in Atlanta are not here at the moment - only Dani and the Jones family. But I have more than enough Bosnian friends to visit! I'm going to consume litres and litres of coffee, I can tell!

I got to drive back from the wedding with Dani, which was wonderful. We talked and talked and talked, catching up on three years of all sorts of everything. Oh, and I found I had managed to lose her car registration somewhere in the craziness of driving back to the airport to find my lost luggage, changing for the wedding, and finding my luggage again at 4:30 in the morning. That made border crossings and police checks nervous and painful, and meant she has to go through some difficulty and complication to get things straightened out. Oh dear. Sorry, Dani!

Today was my first full day in Bosnia. And it certainly was full. This morning, I had coffee with Asmir (who's staying here) and Sutka (who came to clean) here at Lawn's house. Then I went off to give Dani my passport so she could get me registered at the police station. She was at a cafe, so that involved more coffee. Then, Asmir and I sat and had lunch at another cafe until his language lesson with Caroline. (Coke this time, not coffee!)

I went walking downtown, and climbed up the hill to get a view of the city. Unfortunately, in winter it's largely obscured by fog/smog. Maybe it was that, and lack of any kind of green plants, but it felt like the sense of optimism and new recovery of three years ago has dissipated, and life is just ticking over. Then again, it's hard to tell when you're wandering around a city by yourself, in winter, in the early afternoon on a Monday. It's quite strange to be back - the city has changed, and I certainly have changed, and I suppose I'll have to get to know it again. Many of the hopes and dreams and thoughts and wishes and fears I had when I last saw all these people and places have passed behind.

I figured if I could find my friend Ibro hanging out at the bookstore cafe (coffee) where Dani told me I might find him, he would help me to understand what's going on in the spirit of the city. He's an art student, drinking coffee, studying aesthetics, and plotting to change the world. It was good to see him again, and I had to drag myself away from our conversation. I can't wait to see some of his art.

So, one conversation about beauty/truth/globalism/art/family/Sarajevo/politics/life later, I was walking back home, wondering where meaning and beauty comes from. Do you recognize it, or create it? Maybe it feels like you created it while you were working hard to find it. If you recognize it, then maybe you have to look hard before you see it sometimes. And maybe you can find beauty or ugliness in most things. I think this is going to be my Polyanna year, playing the "glad game" - find something to be glad about in everything

Six o' clock brought dinner with Drew Matter, and a chance to catch up for the first time in - oh, ages - probably since college, four or five years ago. Ten Cevapi and a glass of yoghurt at Zeljo (first day, Chris!), and I felt like I'd arrived for real. After stopping in at a cafe (coffee), Drew and I went back to their place, and played piano and sang and praised God.

As I said, it's a bit strange coming back to Sarajevo. But nice. I have no agenda, no plan, no work, and no schedule. There's absolutely nothing I'm supposed to be doing, and no goals except to relax, enjoy myself, stay close to God, and manage to visit all my friends. And to somehow be a tenth as generous to everyone as they are to me.

That's it. Except for one public service announcement: If you have friends over in here in Bosnia, write to them, call them or email them. Now. They need to know you're thinking about them. Living here can be difficult, and news from home infrequent.