October 5, 2006

Autumn has arrived in Bosnia on my second full day in Tuzla. When I landed in Sarajevo two days ago, summer was making one last bold attempt to assert itself, with the temperature well into the 80s (F) under sunny skies. As I struggled to collect my suitcase — marked at the airport with a giant orange Heavy sticker to alert everyone to my overzealous packing — I had some serious doubts about my preparedness. The suitcase contained nothing but sweaters, boots, and long underwear.

Fueled by a desire to complete my travels and get some much needed sleep, I made my way to the bus station to try to catch a bus to Tuzla. During the taxi ride, I was able to see the city I had tried to imagine during the years I was listening to reports about its siege on the news. I realized that even the television reports had not adequately captured the particular geography of Sarajevo, which played such a crucial role during the war. The city is surrounded by high hills, and the parks, residences, and businesses in the city would have been easy targets for anyone well-positioned above.

In the late afternoon sunlight, however, Sarajevo was radiant, and one of the first things I noticed was the prominence of gardens. Large and small, they exist as solitary plants cautiously perched on the edge of a ruined building or as a profusion of color on apartment balconies. The bus ride to Tuzla was equally beautiful and at 16km, a sightseeing bargain.

As darkness fell, I began to question the wisdom of proceeding immediately to Tuzla. I was exhausted, had not had the opportunity to call my boss, Beba, to let her know I had taken the bus, and did not know if I would be able to find a phone to contact her once I disembarked. As I took my luggage from the bus driver and started to drag it toward the station to look for the phone, I felt overwhelmed. Suddenly, a loud voice called my name.

Beba — who founded Bosfam with the motto ‘Don’t Promise — Do Something!’ — is a person who applies this philosophy to every aspect of life. She had had the foresight to call the bus station in Sarajevo and estimate my arrival time based on the flight information I had given her. Her matter-of-fact response to my delight was: ‘Of course I came to get you — I told you I would.’

In retrospect, this encounter was an apt harbinger of what has come to pass in my first days at Bosfam. I am here to provide whatever assistance I can but so far it is the women of Bosfam who are looking after me. In addition to the warm welcome from Beba, Hatema has guided me through my introduction to life in Bosnia. She has answered my questions, taken me to the police station where I was required to register, and above all introduced me to two all-important aspects of Bosnian culture — eating and drinking coffee. Because I have arrived in the middle of Ramadan, my exposure to these two rituals has not yet been fully realized. Nonetheless, I already appreciate that Bosnian culture values the solidarity developed and reinforced when people take the time to share coffee or a meal and to talk with one another.

A key part of my work will be to help Bosfam promote the sale of the handicrafts, particularly traditional Bosnian rugs referred to in English as kilim, made by the women who work here. Having seen the carpets in person, I am unable to understand why orders are not streaming in from around the world, but getting the word out that they are available is part of the challenge of creating a viable sustainable livelihood project. Given the resourcefulness of everyone involved with BOSFAM, I have no doubt that it is a challenge readily overcome.