She was an old woman, seventy-five years old, she told me, holding up seven fingers and then five. The day I moved into the flat in the building her family owned, she came up the steps the first day with some homemade sirnica, cheese pie. Every week or so she would come up the stairs slowly, bearing some kind of food. If I ever knocked on her door, she would invite me in for coffee and warm up some food for me.

She told me that she did this because her mother had died when she was young. She knew what it was like not to have a mother around to care for me. When Bajram arrived, the holiday when people feast for multiple days, she made it up the stairs with a full tray of baklava. Such a big tray I don’t know how it even fit in her oven! I was in a hurry, and she said something with a number. I assumed she was trying to explain that Bajram was a three- or four-day holiday. I thanked her and took the tray, saying it was too much for me. I had a half-size refrigerator I couldn’t fit all the balklava in there even when I redistributed it into a Tupperware container.

Later that day, I went down when her daughter-in-law was there. She was the only one who spoke English so I tried to explain in greater detail. Maybe there had been a mistake? Maybe she had meant for me to take four pieces? I couldn’t imagine why she would bring the whole tray up the stairs when she only wanted me to take four pieces, but I just couldn’t believe it was all for me. No, said the daughter-in-law, it was for me and I should bring it to work. It was difficult even to transport it on the tram there was so much, and even after bringing it to work, I had baklava to last me well into the next month.

A few months later the end of my time in Bosnia arrived. My mother had taught me how to crochet on a trip to the US, so I decided to make a scarf for her. When I presented her with it, she said she hoped she had not done anything wrong to make me leave. I tried to reassure her as much as I could in my broken Bosnian: it had nothing to do with her! In fact she’d made my stay all the more pleasant. She told me she had wanted to come up more often, and someone had even suggested she get me to teach her English. Obviously these things had nothing to do with my leaving.

An hour before I left for the bus station, she came up to give me a small wrapped package. Inside were two pairs of nylons. One for me and one for my mother.

• Corinne van Egeraat’s Cowboys in Kosovo uses compassion and humor to show how four men who grew up together feel about the “cowboy games” they played as children after living through war.
• Jasmila Zbanic’s (winner of the 2006 Golden Bear top prize at Berlin Film Festival)Images from the CornerandRed Rubber Bootsexamines the long-lasting impact of loss and exploitive media coverage.
• Roberto Forns-Broggi’sHouse of Wisdom, drawing strong influence from the French new wave travelogue films, depicts the loss of cultural Sarajevo’s cultural artifacts after immense looting.
• Zelimir Gvardiol’sRavens is the story of a family deeply divided over a medal of bravery posthumously awarded to their son who died in Milosevic’s army;It’s Only Mineuncovers the struggle middle class Serbs are grappling with to regain their property that was seized by the Communist police;I Don’t Know Where, Or When, Or Howillustrates how the shortages of food and resources during wartime first impact the vulnerable elderly population;Father, Son, Holy Ghost
  

For press requests contact:press@millionmoviesaminute.com

Bosnia and Herzegovina must certainly be the world-champion in fitting several schools under one roof. A common phenomenon in this country is the so-called ‘two schools under one roof’ which means that there are two different ethnic groups enrolling in different school curriculum in the same building.  One group usually starts early in the morning until noon and the other begins right after until dinner time.

The gymnasium in Mostar is a good example of this. The school is the home of two different curricula for the Bosnian Croats and the Bosniaks. All three major ethnic groups in Bosnia have their own curricula, with a lot of emphasis on the difference of history, religions and languages. Everybody will agree that a good educational system is crucial to the long-term development of a country. Bosnia needs it more than most, especially the country is eager to join the EU. The current school system of separation has done nothing but slows down this process and deepens the divisions within the country.

On February 10^th, young students from all over Bosnia attended a conference in Mostar to discuss the separation of school curriculum. I participated in this conference even though I personally have no experience with the Bosnian educational system. I acted as a moderator for a group of students of different elasticities who currently study the different curricula. The discussion was an interesting and enriching experience. I’ve learned that the necessary reforms in Bosnia obviously will not happen from a top-down approach. Demanding and putting some pressure on the authorities from below might have a better effect. Even if the desired result is not attainable, it is always useful to discuss existing problems and to make young people become more aware of the backwardness of their school system.
All the students agreed that the separated curriculum does not bring anything good for both the students and the country.  Lessons and books do not represent issues from different perspectives but from just one perspective of your own ethnicity which praises your ethnicity is the only good one and how you should keep up the traditions and be proud to belong to this ethnicity. Clearly, this shows how segregation is being encouraged inside the classrooms in Bosnia. They love to get more objective information from varied and broad perspectives rather than subjective and one-sided information presented in textbooks. Facts should be presented as facts, and different interpretations are of course welcomed to develop critical thinking. However, it is of major importance that facts are not twisted to ‘benefits’ one’s own ethnicity.  In addition, the students have far too many subjects, even up to 25 and they all feel that quantity is often valued over quality. There are also controversial topics such as politics and religion which should not be involved in education. More details can be found in the final declaration made on this special day.

There was an interesting story told by a girl whose brother applied to the University of Sarajevo. In order to get in, he has to do a test, but because the system is corrupted and racist, the majority of the people who get accepted have already known beforehand the test. They prepared for the test, and even when they failed the test, they still got in because the test results are not published, thus no-one knows how the others performed. So even though the brother had one of the best scores for the entrance exam, he did not get in to the university. Getting into university is apparently not about your own capacity but about your ethnicity or the money you possess. Another girl in the conference has an older sister who wanted to study Croatian literature at a university in Mostar, but first she had to pass a very biased Croatian history test before she was allowed to start her study.  This test was mainly about history of religion, of course only of Catholicism. Furthermore, she had to learn about wars and battles in which Croats were involved, always portraying the Croats as either heroes or victims of other ethnicity. What is the point of all this when you want to study Croatian literature?

During this conference, opinions and wishes of the students are recorded in a declaration which will be presented to the official of the country in hope of long-overdue reforms and improvements of the educational system.[Link]

I am contacting Beyond Sarajevo on behalf of a global media event that I am helping to produce. One Day On Earth is an online community of filmmakers, students, and inspired individuals all teaming up to film in every country in the world during the 24-hour period on 10/10/2010, to create a more accurate picture of life on this planet. We are looking to have every nation in the world participate, and hope to include the unique voice of Bosnia and Herzegovina in our global mosaic.I am contacting Beyond Sarajevo in the hopes of being connected to interested and inspired Bosnia and Herzegovina citizens who would be interested in participating in One Day On Earth. We would love for you to take a look at and possibly sign up for our project. Please let me know the appropriate channel to take so that I might initiate a conversation with other Bosnia and Herzegovina citizens who would be interested in taking part in our project.

Thousands of people from every nation around the world will film their perspective and contribute their voice to the largest participatory media event in history. The event will result in a feature documentary and online video archive that will showcase the diversity, conflict, tragedy, and triumph that can occur in one day on earth.

Please learn more and view our trailer on our website:  www.onedayonearth.org

During the summer the old quarter is hot and over-crowded by tourists from all over the planet, most of whom are packed on buses from Croatian coastal cities like Split and Dubrovnik. You can forget about walking at your own speed as your pace is dictated by everyone else, many of whom are the elderly who have no intention to rush. So there you are, under the relentless summer heat, leisurely “stroll” (having no other choice) while looking into every open souvenir shop, and gosh they are all open and sell the exact same things.

It is in the winter that the Old Town slowly reveals its secret. Those souvenir shops which entertain your eyes in the summer are now closed. There is hardly anyone around including the elderly who walk in front of you at the speed of one meter per hour. This is the time when I love the Old Town the most. Who wouldn’t if you have the entire place for yourself. I can absorb every little detail and stand there as long as I want without being walked over. The sky is grey and gloomy, but when fog rises up from the river, the surrounding is simply magical. Snow rarely falls in Mostar, but once it does, it completes the image of a fairy-tale landscape.

Regardless of the season, summer, winter or all year round, the Old Town of Mostar oozes magic and patiently awaits tourist crowds from the Dalmatia or quietly watches a lone creature embracing the whole area for herself.

The short 7 minute walk is full of interesting encounters.Leading from my house is a very narrow street dotted with beautiful, colourful old houses and maneuvering competition among cars and pedestrians. On the pavement, a rare sight on Mostar streets, there is always an old woman, covered in headscarf, begging on her knees. A little further down on the bridge over the deep-blue river Neretva, I often see a man playing accordion. The beautiful music cracks a smile on my face; I am so ready to start my day. Wait not yet, not without the breakfast. I enter a small and cosy bakery, one of many you find everywhere in Mostar, to buy some rolls for breakfast. Eventually I arrive on the square of my school building, freshly painted in orange, where I stop to enjoy my little moment alone and gather my thoughts before being surrounded by people for the rest of the day.I make my way through a bunch of other students, greet the guard and rush up to the top floor for my first class.Depending on how interesting the classes are, the morning goes by lightning fast or sluggishly slow. Between breaks, I frequent the common room looking out over Mostar, checking my email, talking to friends or doing some homework.

Lunch starts at 12 sharp in the school canteen, located in a different building which requires a short walk to get there. Lunch in Bosnia is the main meal of the day, and usually served hot, contrary to what I am used to in the Netherlands where we only eat sandwich for lunch. There is a lot of noise and chaos in the canteen: students talking, screaming, laughing and the sound of the cutlery on plates. After racking up pounds by the waistline (I mean having lunch), I squeeze in on one of the tables to join whichever conversation going on. Sometimes I cannot ignore the screaming inner desire for some different food than what we are served every week. Why not? This isn’t a hospital you know. I make my way to the Pancake Bar of Mostar to indulge myself some more to sweetness or saltiness of Bosnian pancakes. I often spent the rest of my lunch break in the park when the weather is nice, getting tanned or continuing the discussions started at lunch with my friends. Then school continues for a few more hours and after that I walk home with friends, sometimes stop at one of many coffee bars on the way, enduring the smoke inside just to have a deliciously strong espresso.

My life isn’t always that relaxing as I usually have a lot of homework and projects, so I either bury myself behind my desk or sit outside on the balcony studying and working. Dinner is served in the residential hall. There are many nationalities which mean there are many interesting dishes to be tried out, thus we often cook for ourselves, trying to keep our diet as varied as possible. Eating a bowl of rice with Chinese sauce or any other national dish with many people from all over the world whom I call friends makes me realize how special and unique my situation is. We talk, discuss, sing, comfort and support each other, and I feel I have another family here while my family is far away! After food, we treat ourselves to a movie group date in a romantic setting using top-of-the-art technology. Yah only if you call put-together dorm beds is romantic and projector is top notch technology. I will never forget the faces of people who popping in while I was bonding with eight other girls watching The Sound of Music’ and singing very loudly and cheerfully all the songs from the film. Sometimes, we go out for a drink in the city where the nightlife has just started. I have to admit that I often feel a little under-dressed compared to all these fancy-dressed local females.After a long and tiring day, I return to my room, put on my pajamas, brush my teeth, read a few pages from a book, bid my roommates ‘Laku Noc/Good night’ and hope that I am the one who has set her alarm clock the earliest tomorrow morning…

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A student’s life is not the most active, thus I like to go for a run once or twice a week. Running keeps me fit and makes me feel healthier and stronger, but most of all after the exercise I feel an incredible surge of energy. Running gives me the opportunity to empty my mind and to listen to the rhythm of my steps and the beating of my heart.

If you have ever watched the movie Forrest Gump, you probably remember the scene when Forrest was told to “Run Forrest, run!” Since the movie, you can hear people using this phrase at a person or alternatively use the person’s name if this person is familiar to you. Everywhere, runners have always attracted some kind of attention from people around them, but never have I felt so much in the spotlight as I was running in the town of Mostar.

Lately I have started running around Mostar, the town I currently live. There are no big parks or special places fit for running, so I simply run on the streets. This means not only crossing many dangerous crossroads but also drawing a lot of attention from people on the streets since there are virtually no other people running in Mostar except to catch the bus in time. People here play a lot of sports but are restricted to sport fields or sport halls. Reactions of Mostar’s inhabitants to this ‘unusual behavior’ of running on the streets include screaming, cheering, clapping, bowing and much more. On the one hand, I feel like I’m in a zoo, but on the other hand, I have never felt so supported.

There are a couple of reasons behind the differences in attitudes towards running in public. People in Bosnia, especially females, are very image conscious and don’t want to draw too much attention when they look exhausted and sweaty; how one looks is very important in this society. Everybody talks to everybody, and in no time the whole town will know that you were running. Additionally, I don’t think Bosnians are that much aware about health issues as people in Western Europe, and they are oblivious to the fact that a run once in a while is recommended given the enormous amount of meat in their typical Balkan diet.