Summer Visitors

In the last month or so Tuzla has been inundated with foreigners. In a car park the other day, I had a quick look around and realised that of the 15 or so cars parked under the trees, only one had a Bosnian licence plate. The rest were from Holland, France, Germany, Austria, Luxembourg, Sweden and the like.

These are not your normal holidaymakers. Love Tuzla as I do, I'd never call it a general holiday destination. You would only really come here if you have a reason. No, by and large these people are the diaspora, those who left Bosnia and now come 'home' once a year, usually during the ever so nice summer months. They come back for a holiday, to see family and friends, gorge themselves on the Bosnian specialities, hold barbecue after barbecue, sun themselves at the lake and generally have a fine old time.

Those who live here full time view them with mixed feelings. Many people grumble that they only come back to show off their big fancy cars and how much money they have. They definitely bring with them a holiday vibe and race around doing things they probably wouldn't do at home (stop racing about on your scooter without your helmet young man, believe it or not, there are laws here, and they don't include behaving like an idiot). But some of the resident Bosnians are jealous. Jealous of the money the diaspora appear to have, the lifestyle that they appear to represent. The diaspora certainly bring money with them; one village I know is hoping to rebuild their mosque based on donations from the diaspora returning this summer.

Irrespective of any jealous moments, everyone is delighted to see family again, and it is heart warming to see the grandmothers thrilled to be playing with their grandchildren, adult brothers and sisters hanging out together over a coffee or three. But their delight is tempered with a tinge of regret, a recognition, indeed acknowledgement that this level of displacement in a society is a sad reflection of the country's recent history.

A Baking SUCCESS!

It was a time we never thought would come. Invited to a barbecue last night, we thought to have (yet another) go at baking something that might be acceptable to take along to a gathering of people, you know grown up people who might not be quite so accepting of the great chocolatey stodgefest that most of our cake baking attempts of late have resembled.

This time round, banana and chocolate chip muffins. Adam mixed and beat and I measured and poured. Into the oven they went and (Handel type Messiah music here) Halleluia! they rose. We took them to the party, heads held high and they were a real hit. People want the recipe and everything. We are cake making gurus. We are, in fact, Jamie Oliver and Martha Stewart.

Sadly the muffins are too late to enter the Great Blogger Muffin Off held a few months ago. But they'd have won. Truly they would have done. And for all those in Bosnia who let me know that they can't get their cakes to rise either (thank you for that, you have no idea how much better it makes me feel to know that it isn't just me struggling with the baking here!), try them. If we can get them to work, they must be pretty infallible.

Spring has sprung

At last. At long last. Spring has arrived, and it has arrived with a vengeance. The weekend was beautiful, blossom on the trees, all sorts of flowers out and a general sense that the winter with its snow and mud is behind us.

We took the opportunity to see whether the lakes near Tuzla were open yet. Deliberately not taking any swimming stuff (however much the boys beg, it is too cold to go swimming just yet) we set off and joy of joys, they are. People were cooking barbecues and picnicking, playing volleyball, fishing and generally moving into summertime mode. It was lovely.

Inspired we came back, bought a barbecue and spent the evening cooking our own burgers and kebabs in the garden, enjoying the evening light and not having to put on a jacket. Throw in a few beers, the odd glass of cold white wine and some good friends and races with small children around the garden and suddenly Bosnia doesn't seem a bad place to be at all.

Even with all the above, there is one development that has really caught my imagination. I've noticed over the past couple of weeks that all the Bosnians have been very busy in their gardens. Not tending to flowers (although there are some roses and other splashes of colour appearing in front of everyone's house) but planting their vegetables. There has been a flurry of digging, weeding and planting going on in almost every garden and most the open spaces around. Well, when in Bosnia.... we now have our own allotment in the corner of the garden. More accurately we now have our own dug up bit of earth and the bottom of the garden, but I have onions, carrots, peppers, cucumbers and tomatoes to plant. I know nothing about growing green stuff, being an urban girl born and bred. But, I'm very excited about having a go, and, armed with their own trowels and permission to go get really dirty, so are the boys. You never know, if they grow the vegetables themselves they may even get inspired to eat them.