"The answer my friend is blowing in the wind, the answer is blowing in the wind..."
Bob Dylan
Her name was Honey. She was 11 years old when we met in San Francisco's Richmond district, an easy walk from the GGP. I haven't told her that the street that we shared a home for 3 weeks was the exact same street that my friend's retired diplomat friend offered me her place for in the summer of 2014.
Honey was adopted and her mom was at least as generous as her in her sharing. We had different mother tongues which did not matter at all once you know for sure that the words were just tools, the real shared language was intangible and strong. I mean... If I tried to tell you the full story, and if you happened to be an atheist or agnostic, you might end up as a believer. I don't want to mess you up. Better to share only the bits and pieces for now.
I met a guy whom I thought was Canadian but it turned out that he was born and raised in SF. My limited time in SF in 2023 matched his last visit to the City after many years, and he told me that it would be the last. Fine... Meeting for a coffee chat won't hurt, I thought. Instead, we met at the Ocean Beach, a surreal district of SF that most tourists miss. An uncannily warm and sunny weather for that part of the town, for San Francisco actually. We decided to take a walk, barefoot, and gave a break on a fallen tree trunk, a driftwood. Just to make the meeting more poetic and memorable. His name is Jonah.
Honey was waiting for me at home, I had one more hour before I and Honey went out for our regular evening walk. Jonah got teary while talking about Israel's attack on Gaza and told me it was hard to talk about it in the U.S., even in California. I will always remember the pain and the desolation in his blue eyes. In my attempt to find some words of consolation, a playful ocean wave went over us, yes, over us, reclaiming any material stuff we got, including his cellphone.
Fast forward. I am in Sarajevo. It is gray and polluted weather in November 2023, nothing like Richmond. Staying at Andy's house, taking care of Honey made me travel to Sarajevo. I miss Honey but I am grateful to her and her mom's parents' decision to move to Mostar, a small, beautiful town whose international fame was due to the destruction of its famous bridge by the Serbs during the war. Mostar is 2 hrs drive or train-ride away from Sarajevo, a scenic ride, a feast for the visitor's eyes.
My Californian friend Marisa is confused but also I sense an admiration and envy in her kind words: You decided to move to a new country? Just overnight? Because of Honey's mom's parents? Wait?! Tell me again how one can make such a decision and excuse them as fast as you do? My gush!... She is not happy with her job since we met in 2020 so it's been 3.5 years and she has no strings attached like myself.*
I met Jonah's college friend who happened to be living and working in Sarajevo. They bonded immediately as freshmen in Oregon and shared a dorm as two San Franciscans. 30 years passed since their graduation and they met in SF in October, most probably for the last time. Sometimes years pass without seeing each other so it's not a close link any longer, just faithful. His friend is a temporary gift for me, smart, serious-funny, and took me to the least touristy parts of the capital, including a physiotherapy center with blind and visually challenged staff whose touch was more sensitive than the ones with the eyes. We shared several meals and conversations until early Feb.2024.
Honey's mom was a refugee in Germany as a small girl for a while before moving to California. Her parents settled in San Jose, she studied at UC Berkeley and moved to San Francisco. Honey loved their home, she is a very happy and calm girl, and it is contagious. She even inspired me about adoption but I travel too much and I have issues with settling down.
I fell in love with Sarajevo despite the winter. What matters is the temperature of the heart, not the outside weather. I felt so much at home in Toronto during that same October when I met Jonah, Andy, and Honey before a much delayed and deserved visit to my best friend's home for her birthday. Toronto is made warmer with her welcome no matter which month of the year.
Honey has never been to Bosnia, I don't know if she ever will. She doesn't have a passport yet. Jonah has one but he had decided to stay at home which to him was Ontario. Until he met Sarah. Love is always stronger than one's willpower and trumps theories of climate change and its consequences. Sarah is from the UK.
Honey's mom's name is Andy. She is 36, had a brother whose first baby news overlapped with the news of their father's terminal illness. Doctors couldn't tell when he was going to die but the parents decided that he would welcome death in Mostar, not in San Jose. Honey was entrusted to me during her mom's travel to Mostar with her parents and her best friends to purchase a house for their parents. There was no time to waste.
The first week of January, Andy's parents moved to Mostar. On February 3rd, I had a phone call from my brother: Our mom had a stroke and he was taking the first flight from Paris to Istanbul and could we meet at the hospital please?
Being in Sarajevo rather than San Francisco, I arrived earlier than my brother. A stressful but smooth and short flight nevertheless. I felt fortunate to be in Bosnia. In fact, I was prepared for such news considering the age of my parents. My research was on hold, I couldn't return until the last weeks of April 2024, the pace of life and my definition of comfort or "normal" changed radically. My mom has become another person now, still at the hospital. It has been 2,5 months until I could give a break and for that very special and much needed break I chose Sarajevo.
I knew Andy came to Bosnia for a month and I wanted to share my news with her and check on her parents. Her dad passed the day before I texted her, and she had to extend her departure. I owe them all, someone whom I never met, Mirko Butkovic, a man full of life (based on the photographs) changed my life and he didn't know it. I wanted to be there, thank him, pray, and be with Andy.
The service was smooth, quiet, dignified, and took place on a very beautiful spring day. He was laid to rest, covered with very colorful, fresh flowers, and with the love and respect from his family. In a place I loved the most and wanted to return. Don't tell Honey but I have this thing: I visit cemeteries in most countries or cities that I travel to, from Rumi's place to Oakland's Piedmont or Mountain View, all the way to the famous Père Lachaise and Montparnasse of Paris.... This cemetery in Mostar is the best. It reminded me of some Turkish/Ottoman cemeteries with its dark green cypress trees mixed with other local trees. God willing, I intend to plant a tree there if Andy helps me with the bureaucracy!
During the post-funeral lunch, I was told that the family members and some close friends would drive to Blagaj Tekke upon Andy's mother's request. This is Bosnia's inter-faith, beyond-faith, trans-faith (you name it, academics!) reality for you. Maybe the answer is not blowing in the wind... "Travel on the earth and observe", orders God in the Quran.
I took a bus instead of my early but crowded train just to see the difference. It was a gift. Jenny was a gift too, Andy's best friend all the way from middle school. A fellow academic, fellow vegetarian and definitely a very good person. Andy's mom, Honey's grandmother, is a very sweet, huggable mother figure. How many times she (along with other family members) thanked me for coming, and I lacked the words to say in any language that I was very glad to be there. There was nothing to thank for. I am the one who will be thankful forever for this amazing connection and for the inspiration that led me to this country which is a shelter for me now. A shelter where I feel safe and at peace despite the everyday scars of the war. Isn't it ironic? Isn't it very intriguing? Isn't it a mystery that people are so ready to help a stranger after being betrayed and traumatized only 30 years ago? Isn't it time for the privileged Global North residents to question their definition and overused word "trauma"?
Her name is Honey and she will always be my favorite dog.
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*Marisa took the decision to petsit internationally and gave up her flat in 2024. She gives me credit for the inspiration.
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