My Typical Slobodan Dan: Vrelo Bosna and Pizzaria Ildžis

It seems like we have a lot of time off these days. After a grueling rehearsal schedule in preparation for our all-Tchaikovsky program a week and a half ago, it was much needed. The weather has been nice and sunny though, so Megan and I have been trying to take advantage of that while we still can. There is a park in Ilidža that is quite famous and reminds me of everything I like about Evanston and Aspen combined. It is called Vrelo Bosne, which is the source of the Bosnian River. Admir and Arvida showed it to us the first week we were here.

There is a 2 mile path called Ilidža Alley that runs from Ilidža to this park and is lined with trees. Every time I'm there, I can't help but think of walking down Sheridan Road in Evanston. The path is paved, and every once in a while you have to step aside so a car can pass. You can also ride in a horse-drawn carriage if you're feeling lazy. I haven't done it yet though. Walking is a great workout, considering the fact that it take about 2.5 hours from my apartment.

The park itself consists grassy areas separated by forks in the river, which you can cross via wooden bridges. There is also a cafe where you can chill and order coffee and food. The source of the river is at the far end of the park. It's amazing that such a small trickle of water can produce such a large river. I have spent some time sitting on a bench and reading by this part of the park. Unfortunately, it has already started to get too cold for that, since a mountain blocks the sun by 2pm. The beauty of the mountain and fall foliage makes it completey worth it though.

The best part about the walk to the source is that I pass by my favorite restaurant on the way: Pizzaria Ildžis. Outside, you can enjoy the cool air on your face and watch the stray puppies play a couple of feet from you on the grass. Inside, you can enjoy all of the nick-nacks and warm up next to the fireplace. The first thing we noticed when we went there was that there is a no kissing sign right by the entrance. I guess that means the restaurant is quite the romantic place. They have really good food too. Their pizza is fresh, their pancakes (read, crepes) delicious and their beer plenty. It's a good place for tourists to go, since there is no need to worry about not being able to communicate. All of the waitors speak English, and there is a translated menu.

Today marks the first real day of rehearsal that I've had since the Tchaikovsky concert, so I guess it's back to the grindstone. We went to Zenica on Saturday to perform the Bosnian opera, Hasanaganica, but then we had a few more days off before rehearsing Giselle this morning. Hopefully, I'll still be able to enjoy the outdoors during the few remaining days off (Slobodan dan) we have this month.

Italia!

A week ago, the orchestra went to Italy to perform the MESS twice, and it was a blast. After being in Bosnia for a month and a half, we were quite excited to enjoy the comforts of Western Europe. There was fast and free wi-fi, the streets were clean, and the air was fresh. The only problem was that since we were staying in such a small town, all of the restaurants were closed by the time we got out of rehearsal. Our first full day there, we had rehearsal from 12 to 1:30. Siesta starts at 2 though. Luckily, Matt, Tim, Ivana, and I found a restaurant that would at least serve us sandwiches and wine for lunch when we wandered in around 2:15. The restaurant specialized in meat and wine. When you walked in, all you could see was legs of pigs hanging from the ceiling. They had excellent porchietta though. We also had the house red wine, which was my second favorite wine of the trip.

The city of Pordenone was homey and cute. It had a couple of “squares” that were intersections for at least 5 streets. There was an amazing chocolate store on the main shopping drag, and we passed quite a few clothing stores with fine, Italian fashion. In the older part of the city, we saw buildings that were built as early as 1347. Even though I have seen my fair share of Europe, I am always still fascinated by the fact that there are buildings that old. We don't have that in the US.

Since the city is so small, it didn't take us too long to find the theatre that we performed in. It looked like it seated about 600 people, and it was much roomier than the National Theatre in Sarajevo. We performed the Sconcerto both nights, and I have to admit that I think it went better the second night. It takes a lot of concentration to play that piece. First of all, you have to make sure to filter out the movements of the actor and only concentrate on Maestro Lena's movements. Secondly, the piece was set up like Corigliano's pieces with numbered cues for different events in the place of the traditional bars of music. And finally, there are a lot of notes on the page. We had played through it twice in the same day before the first concert, so between that and being way too excited about being in Italy, my mind was spent.

Luckily though, we didn't have a rehearsal or a sound check the second day. Therefore, Megan, Matt, Ivana, and I went to Venice with the maestro, the translator, and a few other people from the orchestra. I thought more people would want to go, but they all stayed in Pordenone because they thought it was going to rain. Their loss. It didn't rain until we were eating lunch and about to walk back to the train station.

I really enjoyed my time in Venice, as little as it was. We spent a few hours wandering through the labrynth of alleys that make up the city. I'm not really sure what the plan was originally supposed to be. Alma, the translator, and Marco, the conductor were kind of leading the group since they've both been to Venice before. There were a few things lost in translation though, so I didn't realize until halfway through the day that they were frustrated with us stopping to take too many pictures and enjoying the views of unimportant streets. The city was everything I thought it was from movies and tv shows. I also think that the weather gave it a special mysterious character with the overcast clouds.

We didn't get to ride in a gondola, but that's okay. I did have the best coffee I've had since I started drinking coffee in Bosnia, and I got to have my Italian pasta (I had pizza the first night, so all was good). I got canelloni with ricotta and spinach. Delicious! We only stayed in Venice for about 5 or 6 hours, but it was a lot of fun. I feel like we bonded with some colleagues in the orchestra that we haven't interacted with a whole lot, and we had some interesting conversations with Alma and the conductor. He apparently, had conducted at Oberlin before, so he and Matt bonded over that. Music definitely is a small world.

My favorite part of the trip to Venice besides looking out into the water was St. Mark's Basilica. First of all, the square was flooded, so we waded through water at first to get a good look at it. It was pretty cool. There are actually planks that they laid out to let you get from the street to the middle of the square without getting your shoes and socks wet though. But the Cathedral is so intricately constructed. Megan and I shared our fascination with the fact that anybody at any time in history could build such a gorgeous building. Even with the technology we have today, I think it would still be quite a feat.

We left Venice at about 3pm so that we would get back in time for our last performance of the MESS. It went pretty well. After that, Megan, Tim, Flobens, and I went out for some wine and food, and we happened to pick the same place where Maestro Lena, Alma, and a couple of other orchestra members were sitting. It was a good night. We split a bottle of local white wine and had a chicken and cheese pastry thing while Megan had some cheese with bread. On the way back to the hotel, we saw Matt and Ivana sitting at the wine bar we were at the previous night. I tell you, it was quite a small town.

Our trip was amazing, and I wish we could have stayed for a few more days. I hadn't been to Italy before, and I had many other things I wanted to do and foods I wanted to try. Oh well. Maybe I'll get to go as a tourist one day rather than an international performer. Ha, I can't believe I can say that I've played with a professional orchestra in Italy.

On the bus ride home, the magic of Italy wore off completely about 2 hours from Sarajevo. I had just gotten out my computer to watch a new episode of Dr. Who when I started hearing people freak out. Bosnians are the most laid back people I've ever met, so I knew something was up. Eventually, I heard Ivana say, “The bus is burning,” in the calmest voice ever. When I looked back, I saw smoke. We stopped right across the street from a cafe, so we just took our instruments off the bus and got some coffee while we waited for a replacement bus. Way to welcome us back, Bosnia.

A wink may not be what you think...

It takes a while to learn the ropes when it comes to social norms in any culture, and I have found it especially interesting to adjust to the non-verbal language here in Bosnia. The first thing I noticed was the winking. In America, you only wink at someone if you are flirting or if you want to make it clear that you are joking. But in Bosnia, people wink just to say hello. As a woman who is usually creaped out by men winking at me, it took a while to get used to. The Bosnians and Albanians found it quite amusing that I had such a problem winking in the beginning of my stay here. It wasn't the physical act of winking that caused the problems but the mental hurtle of winking without jokingly being seductive or something. Now I can wink without too much effort and without exaggerating the gesture. I can even wink at people in the orchestra that I don't know all that well.

Bosnians are also much more touchy-feely than Americans, and I have to admit that some of their touching definitely makes me uncomfortable. For example, I've seen young girls who are just friends holding hands and kissing on the lips during my commutes on the tram. It is also quite common to see couples making out on a street corner in broad daylight. One of our favorite restaurants in Ilidža has a no kissing sign on the entrance, and I understand why. In America, people often frown on that much PDA (public display of affection). I guess I draw the line at the excessive kissing. I am okay with my female colleagues in the orchestra rubbing my arm when talking to me. They also hug me as some consolation after making fun of me or when I make them laugh. Ivana even comes up behind me and rubs my neck/shoulders for a second to say hi.

Men also touch more here, although I think I am thankful that I haven't been on the receiving end of that affection. In America, guys don't touch at all, but here, there is definite patting on the shoulders. I guess most of the physical contact I've had with men involve hand shaking. People also shake hands quite frequently here to say hello, goodbye, and congratulations.

And then there is the kiss on the cheek. This is a very rare greeting in America, but it was the first thing I did when I got to Sarajevo and met Alisa for the first time. This can be quite awkward to do if you're not expecting it or if you're expecting a different number of kisses from the other pary. Not all people you meet in Bosnia will do this, but I find it is more common with women than men. When men do it, it seems to be the equivalent of the awkward bro hug in the U.S. They have to make it manly some way, so they just avoid touching each other at all costs and hover about a centimeter away from each others' cheek.

When it comes to smiling, I have found that Bosnians do it a lot. When I first got here, I put on my default international face in order to fit in. Then I just realized that I was just acting German and that all the Bosnians on the tram and the streets weren't actually glaring at everyone. See, I quickly learned in Germany that if you smiled at a stranger they thought you were flirting with them, so I wanted to avoid sending that message. But since Bosnians are friendly even without a beer in their hand, it is quite okay to smile.

Finally, I must mention that people count on their fingers differently here. It's the same as in Germany: thumb is 1, thumb + pointer is 2, etc. This is quite important when you are mentioning how many of something you would like in a bakery or a market. It also helps if lose track of rests in rehearsal and look at someone counting on their fingers. I have finally managed to change how I count on my fingers thanks to Oktoberfest. The waitresses would give me a funny look if I ordered two beers and hold up my fingers like a peace sign, so I had to learn quickly. I still haven't learned to stop giving people the thumbs up though. Some people understand what it means, but others look very confused. After all, that symbol means 1 to them. I'll get used to the extra touching here maybe by the time I go home. I apologize now if I wind up invading your bubble.

Oktoberfest Digest

After the MESS, we had 10 days off from rehearsal with the SPO, so Matt and I decided to go to Munich for Oktoberfest. How often do you actually have the opportunity to do something like that? After a 16-hour bus ride and a much-needed German style breakfast, Matt and I set out for the Oktoberfest grounds. What we found surprised both of us.

See, I thought that Oktoberfest consisted of just a bunch of tents that served expensive but tastey liters of beer and people sitting around singing drinking songs all the time. I didn't realize that it was actually a carnival. What a horrible idea, lol. Let's all drink liters of beer and then go on a roller coaster. There's something that your stomach will love. We passed many different types of rides on our way to the beer tents: traditional roller coasters, dizzying rides, the drop of death, and carousels with swings. There was even a freak show and a haunted house. The only difference between the scene outside of the tents and a big American fair (like, say, the Minnesota State Fair) is that instead of a million different kinds of fried food, they have soft pretzles, bratwurst, and leberkäse.

About half the people at Oktoberfest wore traditional Bavarian clothes. The men's outfits varied from läderhosen and a normal shirt to the läderhosen plus knee-high socks, matching shirt, and feathered hat. Simiarly, the womens' outfits combined tradition with modern style. Some women wore the darker colored dirndles that are at least knee-length with a sleeved white undershirt. But then there were women who wore shorter dirndles that were bright pink or neon green and barely any undershirt. At least I didn't see anybody wearing the halloween costumes you see in the US. I may or may not have given in and bought a traditional dirndl. :)

As you would expect, the scene inside the beer tents (or Festhalle) was quite a spectacle. We learned quickly that you shouldn't stand still on the outside of the seating area even to scout out a free table. Either the waitresses will run you over while carrying 7 liters of beer or a security guard will tell you to keep on moving. There are at least 200 tables that seat 10 friendly people in the tent, and a raised platform in the center of the tent has a polka band with all the typical instruments plus wagner tuba. They play everything from American songs to traditional German drinking songs. It seemed like the traditional German/Bavarian songs happened during the day. Later in the night though, they started singing American pop songs in German. I couldn't even sing along in English because I was so distracted by Hey Jude being in German.

After 2 days of Oktoberfest, Matt and I had a chance to explore Munich for a couple of days. We needed a change of pace from the excitement of Oktoberfest. We went on half of the New Europe walking tour, which I actually did the last time I was in Munich. It was okay though because I had forgotten a lot of what I had learned the first time. I can't believe that I forgot the story about the Devil's Footprint in the Frauenkirche though. Basically, the devil struck a deal with the architect to help him build the church as long as he didn't include any windows. The architect was clever enough to hide the windows from the devil on the initial inspection, but when he returned after it was completed, he saw the windows. See, during the devil's first visit to the church, he only looked at it from the doorway. After it was completed, he took a few steps inside, where he could see past the columns to the windows. The devil was angry and stomped in the foyer, leaving a footprint that you can still see today.

While wandering around Munich after the tour, Matt and I were fortunate enough to run into the best street musicians. Our favorite was the duo of accordians we stumbled upon when they were playing Bach's Toccata and Fugue in D minor. It made our day. I wrote down a name I saw on the cds they had propped up on their case, but apparently, that was just a composer who wrote a piece they recorded and not their group's name. They played at Karlstor both days we were there. We also saw a drumming group that put on an exciting show in the English Gardens during our last day.

During our stay in Munich, Matt and I realized that everybody had the same reaction when we told them what we were up to. They thought we were crazy...even the people who just decided to drop everything for a month or so and backpack across Europe without a definite plan. The Germans we met at Oktoberfest were just confused. I'm not sure they understood why anybody would move to Bosnia for a year. Why not? Yeah, I enjoyed being out of Bosnia where I could breathe clean air, practice my German, and take advantage a few more of the conveniences I'm used to in the States (like a dryer), but by the third day, Matt and I were feeling nostalgic. We decided to sit down at an outdoor cafe in Karlsplatz and enjoy a nice, long cup of coffee, Bosnian style.

Bosnian Food Digest: Čavapi

Before coming to Bosnia, Megan and I had coffee with her husband's Bosnian guitar teacher, and he told us all about food and living in Sarajevo. So when we wandered around Baščaršija with Mattia after the second day of rehearsal, I was quite inclined to try one of the most famous kinds of Bosnian food: Čavapi (pronounced Che-vah-pee). It's a kind of street food that seems to be the Bosnian version of Turkish doner or a Greek gyro, since it is cheap and very popular. Čavapi consists of a pita filled with little sausages and a side of raw onion. The little sausages have a specific seasoning that is like nothing I have tasted before. I'd try to describe the flavoring here, but I can't accurately remember it. I found some čavapi seasoning in the grocery store the other day though, so it may be possible for me to make my own sometime, hehe.

When you order čavapi, you get to choose how many of the sausages you want. We all (except for vegetarian Megan) ordered 10, and that was almost too much to eat. It was basically our only real meal of the day though, so it worked out fine. I would suggest to order 5 if you don't want to feel like you're going to explode with čavapi goodness. Also when you order, I recommend that you ask for a side of kajmak (pronounced ki-mac where ki is like it is in kite). It is basically spreadable butter with bits of Bosnian goat cheese in it. The čavapi tends to be a little bit dry, so the kajmak helps give it more moisture. Plus, when did anybody ever go wrong with adding butter for flavor?

You don't have to look too far to find a place with ćavapi. Almost every place in Baščaršija has it, and we have found it shops in Mostar and Zenica as well. It's never on the menu at nicer sit-down restaurants though. The čavapi we had at this restaurant was only 6 KM, and that's in a rather touristy part of Sarajevo. There's nothing like a meal that will stay with you for at least 4 hours for only the equivalent of $4.

The Mess

Our third concert with the Sarajevo Philharmonic this season was a part of this theatre festival called the MESS. And what a mess it was. First of all, on the day of the first rehearsal, public transportation workers decided to go on strike, so buses and trams weren't running into the city. We live on the outskirts of Sarajevo, so it takes a 20 minute walk to the tram and then a 30 minute tram ride from there to get to work. Luckily for us, Admir helped us get a cab to rehearsal. Traffic was pretty bad, and we kept on seeing people sitting around at the bus stops trying to hail a cab. Other people we saw just gave up and walked wherever they were going. It wasn't a bad day to be walking, since it was sunny and in the 70s.

The SPO's contribution to the MESS was a piece called Sconcerto by Battistelli, an Italian composer. Honestly, it took me all week to figure out what the piece was about because of reasons I'll explain shortly, but I think it was a cool idea. The piece is staged so that there is the orchestra, a real conductor, an actor conductor, and an actor English horn player. The real conductor was sitting on a short stool in front of a black backdrop while the actor stood behind the backdrop and did his thing. This involved pretending to conduct us and giving a scripted Italian monologue throughout the piece. Apparently, his commentary was mainly about how the state of the world has effected classical music. The premise of his speech is that the reason modern music sounds dissonant and unpleasant is that the world is in a bad state. The piece quotes Brahms Symphony No. 3 in small snippets, and during those points, he wonders why music doesn't sound like that anymore. The actor who is planted in the orchestra seemed to be mainly keeping the faux conductor on track during the piece, but there is a point where he sings along with the orchestra. I wish I knew what was really going on there.

Rehearsals for the MESS were extremely exhausting mentally. See, we thought that rehearsals would be run in English because the conductor speaks Italian and English, but the faux conductor was there with a translator. Therefore, rehearsals were run in three languages: Italian, Bosnian, and English. It surprised me how little the conductor wanted to talk though. The actor was in charge most of the time, giving long speeches in Italian which were then translated into Bosnian. I think he was explaining the point of the piece and how we were supposed to act. I talked to Ivana, the principal cellist, during one of the breaks, and she said that we were supposed to just look confused. Apparently, she saw the look on Matt and my face and decided not to mess with it. We definitely looked confused. Rehearsals for this piece felt really long for all of us. Between not understanding what was going on and getting through the piece very slowly because of extra breaks, extra talking, and a little bit of chaos, my brain was shot. The day we had a double service (two 3-hour rehearsals in a day), I stared blankly at my music and tried to tune everything out until I heard the conductor say where we were starting in English.

The good news is that even though I'm not really sure what was going on during the piece, it was received rather well in Sarajevo. We got a standing ovation. They showed Bosnian supertitles during our performance, so the public had no problems understanding the faux conductor's speech. We will take the piece to Italy next week, where we will perform it twice in two nights. The performances are in a town about an hour away from Venice. That'll be fun.

Sarajevo Philharmonic

Playing with the Sarajevo Philharmonic is going to be an interesting experience this year. Remember how I was worried about playing at 442? Well, I had nothing to worry about there. With the reeds I make, switching to a No. 1 bocal is all I need. I guess I didn't have to adjust too much from playing at 441 this summer at Aspen. The problem is that wherever we tune, the pitch tends to rise from there. I've been keeping my pitch down to 442 as much as I can stand, since I often have the root (main pitch) of the chord. It doesn't help all of the time though.

I do have to say that even though I was dealing with a lot of new things the first few days, I was quite taken by how much fun everybody in the orchestra has. I know that we have fun at school, but everyone is so serious about music there. Nobody would dare sing along with their favorite opera arias or bob along with a cool bass line. However, in Sarajevo this kind of thing happens all of the time. It bugged me at first, but then I realized that I would rather play with people who clearly enjoy what they are doing than play with some stuffy orchestra that makes me feel like I have to walk on egg shells to fit in.

I've also noticed that I tend to be a bit shy as an orchestral musician, especially compared to the musicians in the Sarajevo Philharmonic. Edo for example, always has something to say with his bassoon. I might not agree with how he says it, but the fact that he always making his opinion heard in the orchestra will force me to be more outgoing with my own playing. After all, we are a section and therefore have to blend.

I said before that being in Bosnia is always an adventure, and playing in the orchestra is no exception. It'll be a great experience for me. We have already performed Verdi's La Traviata and Brahms Symphony No. 4 in concert, and later this fall we will play Tchaikovsky Symphony No. 6, Peter and the Wolf, Verdi's Masked Ball, and Bizet's Carmen. I am quite excited to finally play such good repertoire.