Where I’m From: Derventa, Bosnia and Herzegovina
Current Hometown: Des Moines, Iowa | USA
Favorite Balkan Song: “Godinama” by Dino Merlin & Ivana Banfic
Favorite Balkan Dish: Sirnica
I’ll start this post by saying I am not a traditional Bosnian girl, whatever that means. I never have been, and I never will be. Not that it’s anything to be ashamed of, I am very proud of my Bosnian heritage, but I will not try to fool anybody by saying it has been easy identifying with this part of my identity. I have spent most of my childhood and young adult life struggling with the Bosnian aspect of my life. So, as you may expect, going on a three-week trip to Bosnia with my very traditional Tetka for the first time was something close to life-changing. I visited different parts of Bosnia and met many people and experienced the feeling of being in a completely different atmosphere than what I have been accustom to my entire life. To keep things simple, when I arrived home to good ole’ Iowa I was 10 pounds heavier, a little more humbled and even more confused as to who I was.
I could talk about the places that I’ve been and the different rich foods I had the pleasure of eating but I’m going to keep it simple and stick to the important bits of my trip. One of the singular most important parts of my trip was seeing my 85-year-old partially deaf and blind Dedo, I had not seen him for 10 years. I didn’t even have a clear memory of him or my late Majka. I reunited with him in my parent’s city, Derventa. I speak very broken Bosnian, so I could barely communicate with him. But, for whatever reason sitting in my Dedo’s house and just sitting next to him while he rolled cigarettes was my favorite part of the day. I met many of my Tetka’s friends including her best friend and a man she befriended when she came to the states for the first time. I visited the old high school my Tetka, Mama and Tata attended all those years ago. I walked the same streets my parents did, but I saw a very different Bosnia. Not a bad Bosnia, but not the same one that they knew and loved.
I am not a traditional Bosnian girl, but I still love the Balkan part of my identity. I love my Dedo, his house, and his stories. I love the ‘Balkan soul’ as my Tetka describes it. I love my parents and their history. It’s not much, but it means a lot to me. Now, to make sense of my rambling. I did not take a trip to Bosnia because it was calling my name. I took a trip to Bosna because it was a necessity to figuring out who I am. My trip to Bosna was an extremely difficult one and I came home with no less clarity than I did when I left. However, my experiences in the Balkans warm my heart and make me feel just a little more content with myself and my journey on self-exploration.