Good Friday

It’s been a funny week. The weekend was lovely- the weather has turned to what they call spring and I call perfect summer- I had a fine four-course supper with the Smileys, and spent Sunday lounging with the Anthropologist from one cafe to another all the way from my flat to the town centre (a journey that takes about 40 mins by tram so a fair distance really) I had to repeat the 1 ½ hour trek (I’m slow) the next morning, minus coffee breaks, because there was a transport strike. I’d bought some flashy shades the day before but I couldn’t bring myself to wear them for more than 5 minutes at a time for fear of looking attitudey or having a glasses-shaped tanline. I don’t know, I’m not used to handling all this sunshine...

I also acquired a new student this week who happens to be the Arabic professor of just about everybody in the city. We walked to the shiny new shopping centre- it’s like one of those commercial temples like Boshandara City or the Trafford Centre which attracts people from all around, with familiar stores springing up unexpectedly like Lush. And then you go to the top floor and suddenly you find you’re in a spacious, well-appointed mosque. The professor, as I said, knows pretty much everybody in town, so i was introduced to another highly accomplished former student every two steps from one girl who was a hafidha at age 9, to a neighbour of mine who was officially the Best Student of her Generation. Sometimes the conversation would be in Bosnian, other times in English, Arabic or even Sign Language. I think I’m going to be learning far more than I teach...

The tram journey home today was slightly bizarre. My spice dealer buddy was with me and somehow she views it as A Disaster (many of her stories end with ‘It was a Real Disaster!’) while I just thought it was funny. So I’ve previously described the kind of undignified scrum that takes place when entering a tram. Well, an older gent took a shine to us and vigorously protected the empty seats beside and in front of him so that we could sit out our journey like elegantly idle ladies. Then he proceeded to inform my friend in Bosnian of how cultured and intelligent we must be- I’m not clear what his opinion was based upon. So my friend responded in a “that’s very kind of you sir,” kind of way while also translating his fulsome compliments into English for me but she was also like ‘hey man, personal space!’ and ‘omg everyone is looking- Disaster!’
I was standing again cause an old lady came (I like how mostly everyone here jumps up off their seat when an old person enters- they don’t wait for a reproachful glance) but when our gallant old man was leaving it seemed he would fight everyone off with his cane so I could take his seat. So yes perhaps we were causing a scene- but I was happy enough at any rate :)

There have been other interesting goings on but I can’t piece together a narrative for them- they’d work better as a conversation, only I haven’t had a conversation with any of my Mancunian people since forever. On the other hand it seems all I do is talk to people here, possibly too much, which may surprise those among you who can attest to the fact that stringing a coherent sentence together is sometimes entirely beyond my powers. Sometimes I feel slightly fraudulent- especially when I spend the lesson in a dissection of Snape's character- my friend says he's 'nice' and he's her favourite, I mean seriously, ma daj! Although I see that he's the most intriguing antihero I just couldn't accept that all his petty spite and meanness was a clever pose.

The last few weeks have flown by- only two weeks of lessons left! It’s nothing! I’m still hoping to go to Albania but the time for booking a ticket home is looming... I have a trip to Mostar coming up and possibly one to Tuzla. This Sunday apparently horses and carriages await in Ilidza, and in the evening I’m dining with the Dealer, Malaysian style...