In the Land of Honey

 "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.

-----------------

*Marisa took the decision to petsit internationally and gave up her flat in 2024. She gives me credit for the inspiration. 

A Post-Thanksgiving Thanks and Gratitude

Sallie passed away in late August. It was very hard to believe or process. Last year, I wrote her an email and I am very glad that I did. We had no idea that we wouldn't be able to share Thanksgiving messages this year. Life is very transient yet the soul is immortal and free from all kinds of worldly concerns, a good enough consolation.  

Sallie, I miss you a lot! I ask myself often: What would she tell me/write about this or that question? I'll take refugee in our over 2K email exchanges. I already did several times. They can make a good book, perhaps they should. But who is going to support it this time? 😔 

---

29 Nov.2024

Dear Sallie,

Who else if not you that I'm gladly reaching out on this special day called Thanksgiving? I give my thanks to the Ultimate Divine Power for crossing paths with you 10 years ago. Our connection was on the spot, immediate. You invited me to have lunch and a conversation. My journal says: 21- November 2014, Teahouse on Canyon Road, Santa Fe.

Since then, you've changed my life, eased my mind and my heart more than once, I can never express those feelings in any worldly language. 

(...) But for the rest of my deeply challenged life's fronts -especially the past 3 years-, you didn't let me feel like a failure, not even in the hardest times. You always encouraged me to get up, stand up, and keep on walking, praying, creating, and passing it forward to the other women in need. Plus, I can never underestimate the power of your publications in my personal life, I've read many of them in the last 10 years, beginning with The Blue Box.

I'm flying to Istanbul very soon (December 3rd) and my time in California has been healing for the first 1-1,5 months, and then I moved on, enjoying the simple pleasures of daily life. 2 weeks ago, I reached out to the director of Religious Studies at University of California-Riverside Campus whose background is unusual: Women, Gender, and Sexuality Studies AND Religious Studies Scholar! She responded to my email very positively and I am very likely to get a visiting scholar's status at UCR beginning in mid-January. I've not been there before but it is part of the state-funded University of California system and  ranks very high in the U.S. 

An unpaid position but will give me the office space, the community that I've missed a lot this past year. A place to breathe in.  I'm in the process of reaching out, learning and meeting new like-minded women ONCE again. The thick dark cloud -the result of months of caretaking in Istanbul- has turned into a light gray tone now. Maybe soon, it might even get colorful again. I'm working on myself and the financial stress (a big one indeed!) was not there THANKS to you during this visit to the US. This is what I mean by "you've truly changed my life, Sallie," it's nothing less... 

It's hard to separate one's essential self from the other worldly/ego-self. But I know that you know what I mean. I'm ever grateful to your online blog entries that are about spirituality-hope-empowerment nexus. I saved some of them and went back to them when I felt down (still do). Same with some of your emails to me, much more efficient than any therapist can offer.

Happy Thanksgiving!

With love, 

Ozlem  

What is Needed Most for Adequate Spiritual Care is ...

Caring for One’s Own Trauma is the Hardest

An inclusive interview with Zandile Nhlengetwa from Durban, South Africa. Zandile and I met on Whidbey Island, Washington (out of all places!) thanks to an international gathering of women peacemakers and writers, that is organized and sponsored by the Institute of Peace and Justice (IPJ) of University of San Diego. It took place in October 2017 at Hedgebrook Women's Writers' Residency, an idyllic place where I could only dream of traveling:) I was one of the six women who received this invitation for a memorable stay in the heart of nature, the most delicious food, and "radical hospitality" that the Hedgebrook is proud of offering to its guests.

Zandile conducts trauma-healing workshops for survivors of violence as a spiritual caregiver (Seventh-day Adventist). Frequent traveling where criminal violence is still prevalent in the post-conflict areas is part of her “normal” life. In fact, when I communicated, she texted me back: “I’m on the road traveling to another city that is 700 km away for a community meeting.” Her work is not only spiritual or individual-focused, it incorporates income-generating programs too. “When you alleviate the effects of poverty, people begin to spare more time to church activities,” she says, which wouldn’t be necessarily true in the U.S./ my context, but I respect and trust her observations. Below are some of my questions and her responses:

What do you think is needed for adequate pastoral care on trauma survivors in general?

Well, I cannot talk about ‘in general’ because I was born and raised in South Africa, I don’t know any other context. I only went abroad once before I met you in Hedgebrook last year. The U.S. is a different world from South Africa. We can’t always know what is ‘adequate’ but as a black Christian woman in her sixties [born in 1955] who lost two members of her core family due to violence, I know what my people go through in my community so I practice my work accordingly.  

What are some of your personal strengths as a spiritual caregiver (SC) in your community when it comes to helping trauma survivors?

I lost my husband and my son in violent crimes. 10 years after my marriage and having two children, my husband was killed in 1989. Our house was burned down in 1994. I lost my son in a hijacking incident in 2004 while I was driving the car myself and he was sitting next to me. I’m telling you these so that you can have an idea about the traumas that I experienced. I embrace them as my personal strengths, especially when I work on practicing forgiveness. I lost all my property and two precious men of my life but I was able to forgive and continue with life and take care of others. 

How can you use or activate these strengths in your current community?  Can you give a few examples?

I think so. I live in a poor and rural area. It is more common than not to have single mother households where young men are easy to get involved in crime of all kinds. I talk to the mothers like myself who are afraid that their daughters would end up pregnant and sons drug-addicts or alcoholics. However, there is always a Bible passage to cite which gives hope and fortresses morality. Another strength is that I announced that making use of second-hand goods is not shameful because like the members of my faith community, I am also struggling to maintain myself and my family. You can say there is not a hierarchy between my family and the others I reach out spiritually. 

--

Zandile told me that as a Seventh-day Adventist she learned early to refuse canned food or meat. Her father was educated by American missionaries and worked as a clerk for the government. Many times, Zandile heard her father’s questions, “We are all born to love and support. No one is born to be violent. What is it in our community that resists this?” 

“My blood boiled when I saw strangers’ attacking my father as a child,” Zandile explains about her early role model of lived Christianity:

With serene impassivity, he always reminded us of what Jesus taught during the Sermon on the Mount: “If someone strikes you on the right cheek, turn to him the other.” He said patience is the key and added: “We were all, blacks and whites alike, victims of the same system. Lasting peace would only come through Jesus.” Growing up with him helped me a lot on how I treat people with trauma. 

As a college student, Zandile was dedicated first and foremost to her religion. As the struggle against apartheid grew, she adopted her parents’ religious defense. As a Christian she could not support violent resistance. This stance is still with her today and is leading her the path when she preaches or offers advice to her faith members (Seventh-day Adventists).

Do you think a spiritual caregiver who herself/himself is a survivor is better equipped with healing community members? Why/not?

Yes, I think so. But each trauma survivor is different, dealing with his own demons. I imagine myself more equipped when I am counseling a mother who lost her young son like I did, but I am also responsible for attending to the feelings of an incest survivor, something I don’t know about. 

What are your local and/or universal resources (books, texts, people/mentors, documentaries etc.) about spiritual care in your religious context?

Jesus is the prince of peace. I have accepted him as my personal savior, yes, I accept the prince of peace when I talk about peace issues in my community. I become more powerful because I am driven by the prince who empowers me with skills and with intelligence in dealing with all issues, with different roles that I need to play. Jesus is a spiritual foundation. 

What were the most challenging issues that you handled as a spiritual caregiver? If the challenge already belongs to your past, how did you deal with it/them? 

The most challenging… I should say the longest and loneliest period of my life was after my son got killed with a gun by another youth around his age. The tension and the extent of anger that I had carried since my husband’s death got much worse after losing my son. I had to be my own caregiver because I was terrified to face my emotions. I needed to relinquish poisonous pain by putting my unquestioning trust in the Lord. Only with prayer and spiritual dedication, I could get up and get out of the house. I committed myself to a journey of healing and reconciliation, which included visiting the perpetrator in prison and his mother in her village home. She was not nice with me but I visited her many times until we began talking and sharing the food I brought her and her neighbors. During that time, I also dealt with a different fear, which was the fear of  losing credibility within my faith community. I was aware that people kindly left me alone after the death of my son but not a single day passed by without feeling selfish and responsible for the members of my small town community. 

Do non-religious trauma survivors ever consult you (if yes, under which circumstances, or pressures -if any?) How does the recipient’s spirituality affect your practices if it does?

Not that I am intentionally made aware of. South Africa is a very strong Christian country. Liberation songs were all Christian songs. It is part of our culture as much as trauma is part of our culture.

---

Zandile always preached forgiveness and reconciliation but she nurtured anger within herself. She was unpacking her communities’ long-sustaining suffering, yet sealed her own pain securely. Any caregiver’s nightmare was gradually embodied in her when one day, Zandile realized “she loathed the person she had become”. She felt that she was a fraud. She was neither a peacebuilder nor a Christian caregiver. The words of Paul kept resonating in Zandile: “If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but do not have love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal” (Corinthians 13:1). I can only imagine the excruciating confusion that Zandile must have gone through as she despised herself for her own hypocrisy. 

My conclusion from the conversation is that what is needed most for adequate spiritual care is honesty and courage, especially in dealing with one’s own fears and traumas before taking care of other community members. 

Thank you, Zandile! I am thrilled to have you in my life and that you have called me "your favorite professor":)) Guess what? You're one of my favorite peacemakers and role models as a believer.

The 4th International Week of Sarajevo University

(With special thanks to Muamer Hirkić, the Coordinator at the Office for International Cooperation, University of Sarajevo for keeping us the participants in the loop and responding to all our questions promptly)

Yesterday, I wanted to check the room where I'd teaching and when I arrived in there 30 min.before I was supposed to begin, the door was locked and there was no sign posted that might (optimistically) lead others to my way. However, miraculously, someone showed up and upon learning that I was the speaker, he began helping me as he has been coming to Sarajevo for the past 20 years, and knows his way around the mazes of the state building (again, no English signs). I will always remember his kindness and his taking out a piece of Mozartkugeln chocolate from his briefcase, which he promised me that there would be more if I come to his lecture the next day:) He took me to the dean's office where an assistant actually located the key so that I was able to enter the room, checking out the technical stuff, the internet, projector etc.

His name is Franz Kok (Uni.of Salzburg, "the Regional Cooperation Capacities at Western Balkans: Stability of Democracy in a Changing World") and I think we all need people like him in the places like Sarajevo University corridors where not many people know what's going on:) Furthermore, you should have seen my face when a full class filled the classroom with their professor named Abdel Alibegović who didn't explain what was going on either but as a seasoned presenter, I could tell that I was taking the time and place of a regular class hour, after which the students will continue with the professors. It was quite active, and with the attendance of my new young and French friend Jeanne (Jan was the pronunciation that I caught), I could rely on some honest feedback. The title of my presentation was "What Environmental Studies Lack: Politics of Beyond-human Approaches" and clearly I hid the element of religion from the title while the main body of my talk was around the integration of religion or spirituality in the dialogue in the Social Sciences. 

Another volunteer attendee was Zuzana Bartova from Czechia who is a scholar in Religious Studies from the University of Strasbourg (PhD thesis on Buddhist religiosity of French and Czech converts in consumer culture:) WOW! How this form of Buddhism conformed to consumerism and lifestyle as a model of consumer culture with its emphasis on identity construction. 

No, I don't believe in coincidences. Her topic sounds fascinating, and I think she should consider coming to California, and I should read more about Europe and their image-making-in-progress via consumption of course (capitalism is here to live just like religions).

Yesterday, I made a comment on the smart phones before I began my talk, and gently expressed students about my perception of their engagements in their phones. This was indeed very annoying in the previous sessions so I was getting very annoyed by it and shared it with this rebellious-looking French (Erasmus) student because she was not into her phone. I am glad she came to my talk and I will invite her to CA or UmAy homespace. 

There is so much to say about the situationship (!) of the new generation if I may take it out of the context a little bit and put in larger commitment issues. Tragicomical it may seem to us (because being young is mostly about already being confused, no?) why complicate it more with situationship (in education?):)

Time to pause and get going. My education about the Balkans are in action!

Ivo Markovic, Travnik, Guca Gora: A Memorable Sunday in BiH

I am very grateful because I was able to return to Sarajevo as I intended to many months ago. The capital welcomed well and smoke-free, which was the best possible news for this poor one with high sensitivity. 

I am very grateful to be able to meet Ayse, my young friend of serendipity whose gratitude and respect is very rare nowadays. I am beyond myself to sign up for the experienced mountain guide's hiking tour (Fikret Kahrovic) and spend hours walking and admiring the grandiose and the beauty of the Bosnian Mountains (May 3rd) and the next day, the peace-maker, St Franciscan priest Brother Ivo took us (three meleks!) on a long ride outside of Sarajevo. We realized a dream when he first mentioned it to me on the night of the annual Christmas concert at the Catholic Seminary of Sarajevo (2023). It was a lovely night where I watched dozens of believers and their children watch the Nativity Scene being enacted, took photos on a cold Sarajevo evening. I remember looking at the framed posters on the walls of the seminary where the monasteries are depicted and one of them showed the photo of Guca Gora where Fr.Ivo served three years. It was closer to the village where he was born and raised.  

Our first stop was Travnik, the former capital of Ottoman-reigned Bosnia. We had coffee at the Cafe which is mentioned in Ivo Andric's Bosnian Trilogy. One needs to make a real effort to imagine what it was like back in the day while sitting under the big red Coca Cola umbrellas and exposed to other modern day advertisement. Nevertheless, it was a big happy reunion to meet Ivo Markovic, the namesake of the Nobel Literature Prize Winner in 1961. Because it was a Sunday, and the new law imposed that stores will be closed (including the shopping malls), I sat in Ivo's car empty-handed, my burek plans for a picnic failed while Ayse and Fatma's homemade cake's aroma was promising and delicious. However, Ivo already knew where to get the best burek near Ivo Andric's home (a museum today) so we left the town fully prepared for our lunch at his home. 

Ivo is one of those people who keep checking if you're hungry, if you feel like eating or drinking something on regular intervals, even if he knows that the answer would consist of another "no, thanks" again:) His generosity is an essential part of his being and comes naturally, making me smile each time.

You need to try real hard in order to buy or pay for anything and even if you can, Ivo will make a comment on it, expressing disapproval. Our next stop was Guca Gora monastery where we had some fruit and he had his first beer:) We met one his former students and given a tour by Ivo himself, which even included live music thanks to the organ in the church. Ayse and Fatma were beyond themselves and took all the possible photos and live-music video (because of their generation!):) The monastery was spotless and very quiet. There were only three people living there. They offer rooms to the hikers or any travelers who have interest in staying at a real monastery in the area instead of camping. 

Finally, we arrived in Ivo's home and was greeted by his loyal friend, Shargo. He is a rough-looking dog on the larger side, can be scary and even bite, warns Ivo. He ties him just in case. The village is deserted and its quietness poses a contrast to the newborn, screaming green tones and flowers of the Spring! It can become a wonderful retreat place, I can imagine it easily at this time of the year. It's the war, the economy, and who knows what else but the village is empty and the houses are used only for family reunions once a year or every two years etc. Sad? I don't know. It's what it is. Ivo tells me that I am always welcome to the house if I want to finish a book or just escape the city life. Now, I have another home away from "home" which is a complete unknown... I'm like a rolling stone.

My Jogjakarta Field-trip and Sallie Bingham:)

A dear one (Sevilya) asked me recently: "You no longer write blog entries, I used to love reading them, it was a way to get inside your life, your travels and feelings." In her usual gentle style of communication, she left it there, without adding "I wish you wrote!":)

I have been having writing issues. I've been having privacy concerns (not that I've things to hide but I guess I am at the opposite end of where social media personas live). I simply intend to keep it quiet and modest, sharing things only with a few selected friends, not polluting the social media or invade screen time.

The reason why I am typing this is the fact that I actually found an essay that I submitted to USD newsletter after they invited me to their Sarajevo Conference in 2015. To my shock, 10 years passed and I created the opportunity to return to Sarajevo last year, rented an airbnb, met wonderful people, visited places etc. I wanted to share this essay with a potential traveler and realized that it is no longer on the official site but only here on this blog. It was a relief and push for me to return to my 'digital archives' or diaries. 

Secondly, I'm in a new country, using up the last chunk of the research fund that I received from Sallie Bingham. More and more, I confess to myself whether it is time to move on to another chapter in life. My love for reading, observing, and writing will probably never leave me but it might be time to pause.  It is the difficulty of capturing the essence of my own feelings as well as the realistic and vivid impressions of the place or the people (Indonesia). In any case, I have to push myself really hard to write.

Sallie Bingham's discipline in writing regularly at the age of 85 is admirable to say the least. I bet it is also among the secrets to her health and energy. A reason to live, perhaps. I thought I was like that too. But I no longer feel so. The platforms have changed dramatically when we talk about the books, the readership, the AI and even the youtube made ME lazier, to begin with. Who am I to criticize others, the younger ones, the students who use ChatGpt and ask for the summary of everything? 

I am grateful that Bumi Langit permaculture was recommended to me by Iqbal Barkat and Koki, our guests from Sydney last summer. I am also grateful to my persistent and long-term planner-self, a dreamer who intended to spend the March of 2025 here months ago. Iskandar Waworuntu (1954) is the founder and I had the most distinguished time with him over several dinners and celebrated his birthday on March 01st with his family and friends, I just happened to be there. I respect and admire people with a mission, people with a lot of life experiences, critical mind, and YET they know exactly where they are heading to and why (in terms of the lifestyle). Pak Iskandar is one of them and Sallie Bingham is another.  They are both religious-spiritual people too, and I don't think that it is a coincidence.

Anis and I in Jogja, Eid (April 2025)

When I find myself in times of trouble... who whispers the words of wisdom?

Almost a full year passed since my last blog entry. Here is the challenge I'd like to pose myself: Capture the year if you can in a less than 1.000 words! What is the highlight(s) up until now? How do you set up a new reality? (remember the time when you actually began publishing about 'reality'? It was in 1996-97, early but a good quality contribution with Foucault, Baudrillard, Umberto Eco...)

Sarajevo my love...

Almas Mulalić, Melina, Valida, Zilka, Amra Pandzo... Strong women of Sarajevo who welcomed me.

And Friar Ivo Markovic, who picked me from the airport and brought me to the heart of town where he delivered a plenary talk in the UN World Interfaith Harmony Week. Then, we went to a dinner on a hilltop where we enjoyed the city in lights. I'll always remember this very short but must visit to the capital where I had to empty my flat and move to Istanbul to care for my parents. 

Istanbul (cat-sitting in Ortakoy and Cihangir) The beauty of Yildiz Park, my healing begins.

Touring Istanbul in search of a good facility for my mom (and dad too as he cannot stay alone at home)

Hale, Başar, Elif... Several of our neighbors and relatives who called and offered us help. My mom's sister,

She has never given up her sister no matter what. She became the wizard of public transportation in Istanbul at the age of 80.

Meeting Ayse Turk from IUS in front of the City Hall of Sarajevo and how close we have become.

Northern Cyprus: Zehra, Vacide, Hanife. Years later, an emotional reunion. 

Cappadocia: I made it to the EcoHumanities Conference (May 20-22) upon invitation. Sinan Akilli, thank you. 

Estonia: The beauty of horses and green fields, love of nature pulsing everywhere, white nights. Equine-assisted therapy.