Diving into Mostar

 When we stepped off the bus in Mostar we were greeted by our airbnb hostess. She took our bags, she gave us hugs, she welcomed us and then she managed to fit in all six of us and our luggage into her small five seater that already had a partially full trunk. We were squeezed in tight with bags on top of ourselves but still I was incredibly flattered. What is more flattering than someone bending the law a touch to show you they care? When we parked in front of the apartment the hostess said in her same enthusiastic voice there is the apartment and there is the prison. I thought she was joking at first but sure enough we were right across from the prison. A surprisingly cheery looking place. When our hostess left us in her apartment she blew me about five kisses. This was the perfect airbnb hostess and the perfect introduction to Mostar. Living across from a prison was kind of exciting. The prisoner neighbours were quiet we got a kick out of people sitting on our wall hollering up to their family or buddy behind bards, and we all liked to imagine their stories. 

Mostar is a small city surrounded by mountains with a vibrant and sometimes turbulent past. Once one of the most intercultural cities of the country, the conflict of the 90's has left the town recovering. So much of the city was destroyed that even after thirty years of recovery visible conflict damage is still everywhere. But it is the invisible that residents are recovering from the most as the city is left with an east west divide of loyalties. Once a city that boasted the highest number of intergroup marriages and harmony now each side has its own infrastructure and loyalties. A young honest guide at a museum told us that the invisible divide is a big challenge and she has only been to the west half of the city a handful of times in her life. 

Mostar was a hot city. The internet claims it to be the second hottest city in Europe and, being there in an August heat wave, that seemed an undeniable claim.  By nine am it was over thirty degrees and much of the day the sun beat down at 40. The heat weighed down on us so we quickly reoriented our schedule to hide indoors and do schoolwork in the hottest part of the day. The river is cold and offers a reprieve from the hot weather but the locals all advise not to enter the river as it is very polluted. We did anyhow but we quickly learned you need to rinse off thoroughly or you are left feeling the after effects of whatever they are dumping into the river. 

Diving is very important in Mostar and is an integral part of the culture. A lot of tourism involves coming to Mostar to jump off the 25 meter Stari bridge. The history of jumping the bridge goes back a long way and was a rite of passage for boys. The first recorded bridge jump was in the 1600's and local lore dictated that a young man could not get a job or girlfriend if he did not jump off the bridge. After the war in the 90s with the bridge destroyed part of recovery was immediately setting up a makeshift platform so locals could once again jump into the river. Once a year there is a diving competition from the bridge and diving platforms of lower heights 8m and 12m (higher in the Summer) have been set up near the river for the towns and tourists entertainment. Tova jumped both and was very entertained. This diving culture was also very prevalent at the swimming pool. Most pools have a no jumping rule but the Mostar pool seems to have little rules and encouraged diving by adding in extra platforms all around the pool. The centre of the pool seems to be of little interest to most people as local children and adults seem to spend much of their time diving off the edges or sitting around the perimeter drinking and smoking. This was the perfect situation for Tova and the girls spend multiple afternoons diving over and over and over again into the pool. Levana mostly waddled around the kiddy pool while I marvelled at the multitude of drinking smoking parents surrounding us. Within arms reach was definitely not a thing in Mostar. In fact the pool didn't seem to have a lifeguard at all. 

Seems I have a lot to say about Mostar and took a lot of photos. It was a hot but fun spot to hang out. Tova got to jump from higher than she has ever jumped before. I got to turn 42 for the first time in my life there. We got to have prisoners and bombed out buildings as neighbours for the first time ever. It was a small feeling town filled with very nice people despite its turbulent recent past. 

Mostar

                                         

The old library

Sketching paintings at a private museum that was wildly entertaining as its fancy vibe and lights off approach felt more London than Mostar. Also we got to be in a room alone with Degas little dancer. Actually we got the whole museum to ourselves (no guards even!). 

Birthday breakfast - a rare treat where we went to a place that has white tablecloths

Birthday run

Mostar waking up

The mosaic in this rebuilt church was amazing and the motifs of burning and renewal apt

Had to wake up quite early to manage mountain hikes without the side effect of sun stroke

The cross, the motorcycle, the way they sat in age order...

View from the sniper building. It is closed to entry with a large fence but they conveniently leave the gate open so that people can enter anyways. 

Ottoman vibes

I really liked this work of art

Tova really liked these concrete barriers on our street

Building next to us -  we spent a lot of time trying to figure out how the people living in the upper levels enter the building and why they still live there. 

Bridge Jumper (courtesy of Aurora)

Norwegian Summer dreaming

By this time in my life Norway feels like a loyal friend. Jakob and I disagree on the number of times I have gone to Norway in the Summer. I am counting ten in my head. Perhaps I am off by one or two in either direction but given that I have spent time in Norway over the Summer for a quarter of the years I have been alive it is safe to say that Norway and I are loyal friends. This also means that Aurora has been in Norway nearly half the years of her life. With our transitory lifestyle the cottage in Norway is one of the most dependable homes she has had. Given that we only visit Norway in the Summer it is also a spot full of Summer dreaming. Days spent catching crabs on the dock, playing games with family or picking berries. No wonder when Aurora was young she would dream in Norwegian. This year was just as perfect as every other.  It was filled with time with family, lovely communal meals, evening laughs and games, boat rides and swims, fresh open sea air and buckets of berries. Soon Aurora will head to Norway to spend the school year. After years of Southern Norwegian summers it will be very interesting to hear her impressions of a different location and different seasons. 

Joy

family

Mountains

Rock hopping 

Swimmable

Wonder what it would be like to live in this house

I wasn't sure what to make of this placement of the royal family? Maybe I need a few more visits to understand

Summer life in town

A city with a reputation

We spent a few days on an extended layover in Brussels. For the first time in our travels we utilised the passenger loved hack of skip lagging and bailed on our final leg back to France. Being the rule abiding person I mostly tend to be I was hesitant to partake in this option but the alternative of two extra flight legs (Brussels to France and then basically back to Brussels) was most unappealing, especially when juxtaposed with the prospect of a few days in Brussels. Still, I made an effort to not skirt the rules and had some phone calls with the airline about potentially cancelling my final leg (this would have incurred a hefty fee). I felt uneasy about the whole thing as we left our first flight. I envisioned our plane being delayed and announcements being made for the lone woman with five children who they were expecting. Some last minute internet research revealed that it is possible to uncheck in of a second leg of a flight as a way of making it clear they should not expect you. Useful information to know! 

Our few days in Brussels were loaded with food oriented expectations. Belgium has a reputation for certain unhealthy but highly appealing foods - chocolate, waffles, and chips. I told the girls that we could sample all three as part of the cultural experience. Our first day in Brussels was spent enjoyably wandering the old town visiting various peeing statues, going to a great city museum, and of course visiting chocolate shops. My chocolate expectations were actually fairly low and I was pleased at how great the fancy truffles and filled chocolates were. We didn’t eat a ton of chocolate but it was much more than we were used to so by the end of our chocolate tour we all had zero desire to eat chips and waffles. No worries because we still had two more days. On our second day we took the train to Ghent for some more old town wandering. Again none of us felt drawn to a lunch of waffles and chips so we opted for grocery store sandwiches. A couple of hours of a castle visit and still each time I offered to buy chips I got lots of horrified looks. No worries, there was still a third day. On our final day in Brussels I suggested we go for a breakfast of waffles in the old town. Nobody cheered. A lunch of chips? No votes. Instead we went to a more local cafe outside the tourist throngs and had some tasty sandwiches. I was kind of fascinated by my repeated offers to buy waffles and chips with no takers. Oh well, there is always a future visit. 

Brussels was a city that was loaded to the max with tourists. We had heard some mixed reviews of the city but we all really enjoyed our visit. The fact that everyone spoke French made it an easy destination to get by in. There seemed to be lots of events happening in various parts of the city. Beer and comics were of great importance. Belgium is a relatively small country that is easy to get around. And the chocolate really was great. 

Tova in Brussels

Home of Tin tin

Belgium really outdid the Netherlands hagelslag with this move. We bought it and can attest to the fact that it is thin pieces of chocolate to be eaten on bread for breakfast.

Manneken Pis has been dressing up for over 400 years. During our stay he was cheering on the Belgian world cup team. 

                      

This incredibly hot and crowded train to Ghent was wonderful because I got to watch these two woman have a full and proper tea with crockery and pastries and then watch them knit

Ghent

Levana listened to the entire one hour audio guide of the castle with enthusiasm!

Helping hands

 We have thought a lot over our month in Kenya about what it means to help. Kenya is a country with a rich history- and within that a rich history of missionaries. For years Westerners could feel they had a life purpose in roaming around the African continent bringing their religion to the natives. This always feels like a tricky life pursuit. On the one hand, missionaries have brought a lot of good through schools and hospitals and other resources to far-flung communities. On the other hand, the good was granted as a means to garner trust as a means to convince them over to their own religion. Missionary work was highly effective in Kenya, where 85% of the population is some form of Christian. The religion, though initially insisted upon, is a great and loved part of society. There are churches everywhere. Kenyans have built on the Christianity concept by creating their own churches and forms of Christianity. In usual Kenyan fashion, their churches have much more colourful names (things like The Mountain of Hope) and have more extravagant services (think flashing lights and full-bodied singing). The new worry regarding Christianity seems to stem entirely from grassroots ministers taking advantage of their power and has nothing to do with the missionary past. Kenyans seem to adore their new religion, so, does that make missionaries in the right? Is good still good when there are other intentions? Is manipulation the right strategy if the outcome is then exulted? 

We were lucky to also get to see firsthand a non-missionary kind of helping. We visited a home for children whose mothers are in prison. This was a happy, busy home. The children welcomed us in with open arms and were glad for the new playmates and conversation buddies. Many of the children did not speak English, but children are adept at understanding actions and interacting through play. This visit led to an interesting conversation with my kids about whether children's homes are better than foster care - they all agreed they would rather live in a children's home (a glowing review for the children's home we visited!) We also visited a home for teenage mothers and a home for abandoned or orphaned babies. We were all in awe at how calm and cheery the baby staff were in caring for over three dozen infants. They are my new heroes. These were private homes run on donations. The government of course offers similar services, but the standard is such that even the government officials prefer to use the private version. I wonder, if there were no private contributors, would the government step up to the task? On a bigger scale - do foreign help and aid practices empower or disempower a country? How about in the case of corrupt countries? Good intentions can get so complicated! Still, offering good care to women and children seems about as good as it gets and I am grateful that there are people who take on the task. If anyone is looking to contribute to a noble pursuit that I can vouch for, I am happy to share the details. 

Our time in Nairobi wasn't all that contemplative. Really, we also spent a lot of time playing. The children made great use out of the backyard trampolines available, the gymnastics centre, and the trampoline centre to crush some new skills. Tova can now flip and flip and flip again without much effort. Even Zadie who is hesitant of acrobatics can now do a front flip. 

Asante Kenya for a great time and for the kindness shown to us. Countries that love children hold a special place in my heart. Perhaps we will meet again!

She went around saying hello to each doll

Great walking mates (photo courtesy of Maria)

No translation needed when you just play (photo courtesy of Maria)

Trampolines were the theme of our Kenya trip (photo courtesy of Maria)

Monkeys in the forest

Bushbaby

The road to the soccer field

Puppies

Voi-er

 Most tourists come to Kenya to go on safari. The country is dotted with national parks and conservancies. Once upon a time the country was dominated by wild animals. Reading historical accounts of Kenya is mind boggling. Still, a tourists can still get a taste of that historical wildlife heyday by going on safari. The thing about safari though is that it is a high per person cost and it is an activity that involves long hours sitting in a car. Also I kind of have mixed feelings about the safari culture. On the one hand it is very fascinating to look for animals and it is a thing of my childhood dreams. On the other hand, seems a bit of a nuisance to the wildlife to have jeeps driving around watching their every move. All of a sudden nature becomes a wild zoo - especially as more and more parks are putting up fences to prevent elephants from pestering local farmers.

Animals aside though, I still kind of wanted to see the wild landscape of Kenya. Aurora and I had just read Love, life and elephants which talks in detail about the history evolution of Tsavo East park and it appealed to us to bring those anecdotes to life. Unlike most other countries national parks are a car only experience. After much debate we decided to make it happen our own way. We took a train to Voi and then rented a car for a one day game drive into a park. It was a thrill for some of us and for others it was a lot of time sitting in a car. The best time to see animals are early in the morning and in the evening so our day drive was 12 hours long. Sophia spent the entire day with her head out the open rooftop scanning the horizon while Tova and Zadie spent a large portion of the day reading in the back of the car and popping their heads up when we called out something interesting. Levana both really enjoyed looking for animals and was mesmerised by the slow movement of the lions and had her moments of pure frustration at our endless car ride. 

The Tsavo East landscape was just as vast and grand as we hoped. We saw lots of different animals including zebra, giraffe, oryx, water buck, buffalo, dik dik, ostrich, lions, hippos, monkeys, gazelle, many birds of various sorts and lots and lots of elephants. Tsavo East has the largest concentration of elephants in Kenya and we did not tire of the crowds of elephants. They are beautiful creatures and I could sit and watch them for hours (which I essentially did). Watching elephants at a water hole is far better than any social drama. 

Lion love

They blend in so well!

Why did the elephant cross the road?

Levana always enjoys the breastfeeding animals

Turns out when we were watching elephants this family was watching us - guess we are as interesting as elephants

Giraffe

The focused naturalist

Our little lion

Dust bathing