Welcome to Bosana

If everything you read in this post makes sense, you have probably gone wrong somewhere.

There are places that welcome you with open arms. Bosana is not one of them. First it will look you up and down. Then it will offer you coffee. Only then will it decide whether it likes you.

It is a land set among mountains, rivers, and sharply differing opinions on how pita should be made. Good people live there, honest people, and people who work for the tax office. At times it is difficult to tell the first two groups apart. At first glance, everything looks perfectly ordinary. Little houses of wood and stone. Smoke rising from chimneys. A neighbour who has spent three hours sitting on a stump watching you work, solely so he can explain afterwards where you went wrong.

Only when you stay a little longer do you begin to notice the details. The stećci sometimes flicker. The forest answers when you wish it good morning. And in the mountains, if you look, you may find a passage that everyone insists does not exist, although they will explain exactly how to walk around it.

The people of Bosana are generally hospitable. Knock on a door and you will almost certainly be given coffee. Stay long enough and you will also receive an opinion on politics, the weather, your work, and the way you hold an axe. You did not ask for it, but nobody here is troubled by that.

The largest city is called Mosabarkh. They say you can find anything there, except a man willing to admit that he was born in some other village. Krutoglav collects the taxes personally. Nobody knows how he finds hidden ducats. One theory says his hearing is exceptionally sharp. Another says he simply asks the neighbours. Both sound equally convincing.

If you plan to stay for a few days, remember three simple rules. Do not touch the stećci. Do not argue with people who say, "This is how it has always been done." And never ask how long one coffee takes. The answer is always, "Just five more minutes." In Bosana, this means a period somewhere between half an hour and three generations.

Welcome. We hope you brought comfortable shoes and sufficient patience. You will certainly need one of them.