popping down the road

I have long realised that Bosnians, much like our parents, aren't interested in talking to us; they suffer our company in order to play with the boys. The villages I do research in are always asking after the boys, how they are getting on, whether they are learning Bosnian, how they like Bosnian nurseries and so on.

I had the opportunity yesterday to go to lunch at one of the villages I work near Zvornik (about an hour east of Tuzla), so took the boys along for the ride. It's always a fun journey for them, the road is beautiful and there is a tunnel to go through (now with lights in, which is much safer but spoils some of the into the black hole fun which the boys find hilarious). The boys behaved beautifully all afternoon, kissed the right people, ate the right food, didn't spit it out until they were outside, didn't destroy any curtains and were generally charm personified.

Driving back through the snow and singing at the top of our voices, I was struck that the idea of this trip, to a distant part of the Balkans, in the middle of winter with 2 small children would strike some as foolish. But really it is not that dissimilar to nipping down the M4 for lunch with your maiden aunt. Fewer cars, colder weather and a need to make sure you have blankets and emergency food in the car in case of an unexpected event - sure, but pretty similar nonetheless.

research ethics?

A day out today. At least it was billed as a day out to the boys and they believed what Mummy said as they (a) saw a train (a bit of a rarity in Tuzla) AND (b) we went through a tunnel. Sometimes I wish I was their age and could be satisfied with such snippets.

We actually went to a village were I am doing some research. I was meeting a women's group which is supposed to have a drop in centre for children. When we arrived it was very obvious that the only 2 children present were mine, and they were firmly attached to my legs and not going to go and play nicely next door.

It really was quite fun. The boys soon warmed up especially as the biscuits and sweets appeared. The women all played with them and appeared charmed, particularly when they decided to practice their 3 Bosnian phrases. It was difficult to conduct a sane conversation though; you'd get a certain way down an avenue and be disrupted by a green ball flying through the air, or I'd be trying to ascertain the exact meaning of what had been said and have to break it off to stop Adam climbing over Luke. I missed the bulk of the most interesting part of the conversation as Adam announced he 'had to go for a poo right now Mummy' - the translator filled me in later.

Having the children there was interesting. It changed the atmosphere of the room, stopped anything getting too serious and opened up many of the women. I'm not sure I could totally concentrate on what they were saying and I'm not totally sure of the ethics of using your children as a research tool, but as far as I could tell everyone was enjoying themselves. The key was to remove the toddlers from the room before the sugar from the amazing quantities of biscuits they put away kicked in.