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I was running through my photos and updating the section here on the site (check out the Sarajevo Gallery if you haven't) and I came across this gem of my hugeness while we were running around the town.       It's true that in general, my height wasn't as much of a problem as it was elsewhere, but still, there were a number of "no Michael zones" to be found. One such one was the Svrzo House (yeah, had to start my own Wiki page for that one.) It's full of low doorways and many a Hudintrap. Obviously, it was built in a time when people were a great deal smaller. And if you look at the pictures, by great deal, I mean, midgets.       The only person who had it worse was the blind fellow who was checking out the place (they gave him special permission to touch things in the rooms) and he was also my height.

Before visiting Sarajevo, I heard form many a friend in Serbia and Croatia the following line, "They have become such Islamic extremists in Sarajevo now. All the women are wearing head scarves. It's terrible what's happening there." You see, for those that don't know, Bosnia Herzegovina is one of the few European countries to have a very strong Muslim population, thus the term Bosniak, which actually means a Bosnian who is Muslim and for some reason, Firefox keeps thinking is a misspelling for some reason.       Most people estimate that the citizens of Sarajevo are around 90% Bosniak, meaning that 90% of Sarajevo is Muslim. Many people are probably thinking that it was all beards and head scarves. There were in fact, very few. Maybe one in every twenty women had a head scarf. With the guys it was even harder because guys in the Balkans don't like to shave often and thusly, many had some scraggly beards.       So what you might see in Sarajevo that seems to be so Muslim is in fact very rare. I think I'd see these sightings nearly as much in a big city in the US. All of the people who told me about the fact that "all the women are wearing head scarves now" had in fact not been to Sarajevo recently and were just generalizing about something they hadn't seen, which happens quite often.       The bigger shock for people in the Balkans with the Muslim issue is that before the war no one wore the scarves and now a few do, so to the close-minded, this is a huge change. But I think this is more a sign of national pride, just how the Croats and Serbs fly their freaking flags in every corner of every street they can. Or even more to the point, how Americans will wear the American flag on any and all pieces of clothing or fly it from the back of a pickup truck.       To summarize, get over it. The people of Sarajevo are wonderful, beautiful, and insanely hospitable. The idea that they are Muslim extremists is as ridiculous as thinking that there is really a such think as a Croatian Burek.              As a subtext on the title, it's not completely mine, just a re-writing of a t-shirt that I saw around the center quite a bit and found rather funny.

One day in Sarajevo, I was watching the old men play a large-scale chess game in Liberation Square. While tourists such as myself enjoyed watching the proceedings, I couldn't help but see something of a parallel to the problems that the countries of the former Yugoslavia still face.       As far as I know, these men weren't playing these games during the war. They couldn't. This block is one street up from "Sniper Alley" that ran along the river and was quite exposed to Serbian guns. But now, the war is a thing of the past and the siege is something that people only talk about while there is nearly an entire generation that has been born since the fall of Yugoslavia. So here these men were, playing their game and giving their opinion, trying to influence the move of the one who had the chess piece whether the advice had been asked for or not. And there the player with the piece sat, trying to discern which was the right move to make based upon either the loudest or the biggest consensus of old men.       So here we have the current role of the international community in Bosnia Herzegovina. A group of people that pretty much stood by and let this beautiful country with the lovely city of Sarajevo get shredded. For some reason these people are still handling a great deal of things in the country, although slowly their role is diminishing. For instance, the military base in Tuzla was handed over to country control while I was staying there.       It's this group that I liken to the guy with the chess piece and the reason that there are three presidents and two entities to the country. It is true that the separate regions of Bosnia Herzegovina and Republika Srpska were one of the few ways that the war could have been ended, but this is just one in a series of mistakes that the Western powers have made in dealing with the country. Of course, sometimes their just trying to cover their asses as seen in the fact that they haven't taken a census since 1991 because everyone is pretty much well-aware of the obvious fact that no Bosniaks have moved back in to the areas that the Bosnian-Serbs took, showing quite tragically that ethnic cleansing did in fact work.       But, I come back to the guy with the chess piece because he is able to reverse course, try different moves and see what he should have done. This of course incurs more discussion from the other old men until the player just gives up and they start a new game. Is this the ultimate fate of Bosnia Herzegovina once foreign powers have theoretically pulled out in the next two years? Do they just start up a new game? Would it end up using the same rules though, because inevitably, it would have the same players?       I haven't a clue as to the answers of these questions. The only think that seems unmistakably clear is that a true Bosnian identity needs to develop because right now, all the Croats in Herzegovina think they're in Croatia. All the Serbs in Republika Srpska think they're in Serbia. All the Bosniaks who are in Sarajevo think that everything is fine because they are surrounded by other Bosniaks. So, if you don't have people who ultimately say that they're a Bosnian even if they have Croatia or Serbian roots, you're always going to have a country that is yanking in opposite directions with a center that continues to grow and be this undefined morass, much like what is happening in the United States...

Čevapčići is something that I had for the first time in 2006 on my last trip to Europe. Despite the fact that the mecca for these little guys is in Sarajevo, I experienced these in Ljubljana and I loved them. I've had parties at my place centered around the almighty Čevapčići.       So, when in Sarajevo, I ate these like there was no tomorrow because all the rumors are true; they are the best in Bosnia Herzegovina. We tried them at various restaurants and they are all pretty much at the level of really good. The one place that always makes it to the top of any Čevapćići list is Željo I (there is a Željo II across the street, thus the number). Honestly, I can't say that they're the absolute best there, but they are really damned good. You just have to make sure to get them with kajmak--'sa kajmakom' (a type of tasty, tasty cheese) if you want the full experience.       There is only thing that I can't get used to and that is the fact that locals will only use the pita bread that comes with the Čevapčići to kind of pick up a little bit with the meat. I know that people here really like their meat, but the bread is really good and why even get it if you just want the meat? I have to say that I go against the grain, pick up the whole thing and eat it like an inverted Bosnian taco and I love every bite of it.       My only regret is that heading in to Croatia will suck because Čevapčići are non-poisonous there at best and revolting at worst. Plus, there's no kajmak, just ajvar! I love my ajvar, but Čevapčići is not Čevapčići without the kajmak.

Most people who know me, know that I really like tea. But, with visiting Sarajevo, I have been converted to being a fan of the Bosanska kafa, or Bosnian coffee.       It's very cool, served in a džezva, a small pot that has this wide, flared-out base to contain the coffee grounds that are in a fine powder at the bottom. Then there are the small ceramic cups for drinking called fildžan, served along with sugar cubes to mellow the bitterness of the coffee and then a type of candy called a Turkish delight that you can eat with the coffee or after.       It's all pretty alien to someone like me who hadn't seen this kind of a coffee rig before, but I was quickly shown how to drink it properly, which I am passing on for the purposes of... I don't know, being exotic and fancy free or something. Anyways, pictures are below to help out.              I. Stare at it and think, this is very freaking cool, but how do I drink it? Do I want to drink it? It's like a work of art, but I must drink it.       II. Toss a sugar cube in to the fildžan and fill it up with the džezva.       III. Mix it around a bit and after awhile, take a drink.       IV. You'll probably get two pours out of the džezva, which is what that second cube is for. Just be sure not to pour in the sludge that is the grounds and once you're done, eat the Turkish delight that is sitting there. Yes, that's for eating, so enjoy.              There are varying ways to do all of this, like dipping the sugar cubes in the coffee and nibbling them. I don't profess to this being THE way to drink the Bosnian Coffee, but just one way to go about it, so that you don't look completely tourassy.

Damn you Balkan buses. You are all out to get me and I know it. Maybe it's not a conspiracy, but it sure seems like it. First, in 2004, you explode on me. Fine, okay, I can accept this. It was in Croatia and just bad luck. I'm able to walk away from a bad situation with a good story and my life. That's okay. But then, you stupid bastard bus from Belgrade to Sarajevo, you go and screw me as well.       It all started with accepting the fact that there is no train from Belgrade to Sarajevo. Well, there is one. Somewhat. Technically. You just have to get off in Croatia, in Slavonia and then transfer with a wait of countless hours. Not easy. So, we decided to take the bus, which is something like a seven hour long ride in theory. This is not fun because for a good few hours of that, you're in the very flat lands of Serbia, going through small towns and picking up guys who like to listen to MP3's on their cellphone MP3 players on the bus, just to have some noise. Once again, I don't do this all the time, so I could live with it.       Then there's the stop just before the border so that the drivers can have lunch. Great, nearly killing us with passing other cars and tractors for the last three hours so that we can sit at some craptastic roadside cafe and watch the same cars and tractors pass us up again. I don't get this, but these musings are for another article.       So, we move on and then it's the border crossing. This is rather funny in a sad way as you see that you're entering the 'Republika Srpska' which is one of the halves of Bosnia Herzegovina and is crap because you're really entering Bosnia Herzegovina. They act like they're some other country with this sign, which they really aren't. Okay, fine, that's their problem. Let's move on because we sat at the border for almost an hour. There were about 15 people on the bus and ultimately none of us was a problem. Sure, they might have to search the bus for the possibility that Serbian kajmak is being smuggled in, but come on...       Okay, so we got pass the border and head on in to Bosnia Herzegovina "proper", but the bus drivers seem alarmed. "Oh crap", I start thinking, "I've seen that look before and the bus exploded in a ball of flame shortly after the drivers looked like that in Croatia in 2004." Sure enough, we pull in to the next station and the drivers run out to put more water in the radiator to find that one of the radiator hoses is shot on this ancient bus.       So, not understanding what was said, we sit on the bus and head in to a small service garage and wait. Thankfully the mechanic was able to prav some random hose in to place, otherwise, we would have been really screwed. After an hour, we head out, pick up the people who were smart enough to wait at the station and head on.       Thankfully, nothing else really went wrong from here. It just took a long time because the roads in this part of Bosnia Herzegovina are in pretty bad shape. After some time, we pulled in to Sarajevo, but not the center where most buses would go. Oh no, we pull in to Istočno Sarajevo or Eastern Sarajevo (formerly known as Srpsko Sarajevo) which is the Serbian chunk of Sarajevo that's more than a half hour taxi ride from the real Sarajevo.       We shrugged this off because after what ended up being a ten and a half hour ride, we just paid the 5 Euros to the first taxi that was there to get on to where we were staying for a shower and a sleep.