One of the many amazing aspects of BOSFAM and the women who come here everyday is their resilience and will to keep on living despite great tragedy.  These are qualities I have observed in many Bosnians I have met so far, but especially in BOSFAM’s weavers.  Everyday these women come to BOSFAM, sometimes traveling over an hour each way and arriving at 6:00 AM by bus, to weave and heal.  In a country where most of its citizens have experienced profound loss, it is easy to dismiss what individuals do to overcome their grief and transform it into something positive.  In the case of BOSFAM and its weavers, their grief is transformed into awareness for the atrocities that occurred during the Balkan War and specifically the genocide at Srebrenica.

I mentioned in my first blog entry that I would try to share some of BiH’s history.  In one month from today, people from BiH, Serbia, and Kosovo will come upon Srebrenica to commemorate the 14th anniversary of the massacre that occurred there.  In addition to those still residing in the Balkans, many relatives of the dead and missing persons who have left the area will visit their homelands and take part in commemorating victims of the Srebrenica massacre.  Because the victims were buried in mass graves, they are still being identified and those who have been identified this year will be reburied on 11 July.

I realize that I cannot imagine the heartache of an entire region still grieving the loss of thousands of family members and friends.  I also know that words that I write, pictures that I post, and even video that I take will not express the feelings of those grieving on that day.  All I can promise is that I will do my best to relay the events of 11 July 2009 at Srebrenica and respectfully portray what is sure to be deep mourning.

I write of this a month before the 14th anniversary of the massacre at Srebrenica, because it is truly an event that defines the lives of the women at BOSFAM.  As I write this two of the women here, Tima and Sajma, are weaving quilts in memory of the victims of the Srebrenica massacre.  Many of the women who work at BOSFAM lived in Srebrenica before the war.  All of the women here lost relatives in the war and many lost relatives-husbands, brothers, sons, and daughters-on 11 July 1995 at Srebrenica.  During and after the war, they sought refuge in Tuzla, where many still remain displaced from their homes.  Because 11 July 1995 is a date that still looms over BOSFAM as a constant reminder of the loss and tragedy so many people of the Balkans endured, I felt compelled to try to begin to express the significance this date holds.

With all the gloom in this post, I think I need to briefly share-I will elaborate in later posts-something else about the women at BOSFAM.  While many of us-I certainly have-experienced the loss of someone dear to us, the women here have lost multiple relatives and friends at the hand of another human being (okay, so that is still very gloomy).  But everyday these women get out of bed (often not an easy task when your heart is aching for a lost loved one), come to BOSFAM to weave, talk, and laugh.  Their laughter is contagious.  I speak no Bosnian (okay, I know about 8 words), so I don’t understand what the women are saying or the stories they are telling, but their laughs are so genuine and hearty that I cannot help but join in their laughter.  It’s an amazing and hopeful sight to see these women, many of whom lost everything, to continue with life and continue laughing.

Today is the first time I really feel like I can write a blog post worthy of Bosfam and the women who work here.  That is not because every moment since I arrived in Bosnia and Herzegovina (BiH) has not been enriching or interesting (trust me, they have), but rather, I did not know how to express my first impressions in a way that would do justice to the amazing organization and people that make Bosfam such a wonderful and warm place.  I also cannot help but feel that I am not a worthy person to relay their story.  They have welcomed me into their town, family (Bosfam family), and lives without hesitation or questions.  I have entered their lives ignorant of so many aspects of BiH, the war that changed the country and its people forever, and the Bosnian language.  Perhaps my eagerness and desire to learn about all these aspects makes me the least bit worthy of the experience I am having this summer. I feel that explanation of my feelings towards BiH, Bosfam, and my ignorance of so many aspects of life here was necessary before I start this blog.

Sajma and Djeva weaving a Memorial Quilt

Nestled on a small road right outside the center of Tuzla, Bosfam has, only after 5 days, become my literal and figurative home away from home.  Living in an apartment above Bosfam, it’s comforting to know that from about 6:00 AM to 6:00 PM at least one of the women is downstairs weaving beautiful carpets.  In only 5 days, I have caught a glimpse of Bosfam and BiH that makes me realize they are two remarkable places.  I know that many people, especially people who live here, would disagree with that statement.  However, their perseverance to carry on with and make their lives better is admirable and awe inspiring.

Afternoon Kafa at BOSFAM

So far, my encounters have largely been with the women at Bosfam and people around my age (20-something’s and early 30’s).  While the war has had different effects on everyone, one common phrase-borrowed from Beba, the director of Bosfam-is, “You never know what your profession will be.”  Perhaps that seems like an odd phrase to sum up my first impression of Bosnians, so let me offer an explanation.

I have found that life and time in BiH is put into three categories: before the war, during the war, and after the war.  Before the war, Beba was a mathematics primary school teacher in Serbanica and later principle of the school in which she worked.  During and after the war, Beba became the director of Bosfam in Tuzla and instead of teaching children, she opened Bosfam as a place for occupational therapy for women and a place to generate income through weaving carpets.  She told me, “My mother always said, you never know what your profession will be, and she was right.”  Instead of grading math tests, she is concerned with making sure Bosfam has enough resources.  Many of the women here did not weave, or weave for income, before the war.  It is my thought that if you asked some of these weavers 25 years ago if they thought they would be weaving to generate income now, their answer would be “No.”

The people in BiH I have met in my generation and the previous one also make the statement, “You never know what your profession will be,” valid.  I suspect that when these young people were children and teenagers before the war, they aspired to have different professions than what they do now or desire to do now.  I have met many (about 3 out of every 5) young adults who would like to devote their lives to causes such as, international criminal law, prevention of genocide in countries across the globe, raising awareness of the ongoing struggles BiH faces, and other very noble and worthy causes.  Of course, no one will ever really know if the war alone had this effect on these young Bosnians, but it surely introduced them to the horrors and human rights violations war brings.

Life and time here really do seem to be measured by before, during, and after the war and to borrow another quote from Beba, “That’s life.”