Really tired.

Monday last week, being that Sajo is president of what can only be translated as “the mountaineering club” (Planinarsko Drustvo) I got the chance to climb up to the dom (base camp?) with him, a slew of high school kids, and two teachers from the Planinarski Savez Bosne i Hercegovine. The kids and teachers were participating in a school of sorts where the kids learn how to navigate, recognize various plants and animals, and walk a whole heck of a lot uphill. Sajo and I were both anticipating that we would fall behind because last time we did this alone a few weeks ago, I managed to stop a total of five times (he says) before we even got up there. I managed to surprise the both of us, although, thanks to one of the teachers’ stopping the group to show markings on how to get back and a pause for scenic appreciation, we probably would have stopped because of me at least once.

When we got near the camp, the two of us slowed down so I could recognize the difference between a blackberry and a raspberry, something which haunts me from earlier days as some of you may know. This time, however, the problem wasn’t the taste, but rather the shape of the leaves and the color of the stalks. My head is now full of names of various plants and trees which I am tested on on a daily basis. I’ve even gone as far as to look up their English names in my dictionary.

The dom is rather crudely built and it suits the atmosphere. Here, there is no expensive equipment and gadgetry. Everything is in some way handmade, except for the tents, which were bought recently though the same can’t be said for Sajo’s–we set those up as soon as we got there and then chilled out. One of the teachers insists that there is no need for all of that because most of the things a mountaineer needs, he can create himself. Before we had even started going uphill to the dom he had showed us some shin rain protectors (I’m soo assuming) made from an old jacket. He also had some pants which were adjusted Ben Franklin style so he could rock some knee high socks. To fruther show this do-it-yourself attitude, we were graced by the presence of a black barrel on stilts which served as our outdoor shower. The principle behind this is that the black paint would warm the water during the day. Alongside the shower is a sink in the shape of a triangular trough which sieved water to the ground. Considering all this, do I have to mention the outhouse?

Foodwise, the organizers had brought up a woman from Olovo to cook for the week. She, it seems to me, had never been up there because in a conversation I had with her, she explained that she had brought a chef’s coat and an apron, neither of which she used. Despite the fact that the dom has a kitchen, she cooked outside on a wood stove. For lunch, we ate cabbage and meat with a simple salad of tomatoes and cucumbers (with no oil or vinegar…or salt even), and for dinner meat and really overcooked pasta. The DIY teacher was annoyed because he wanted her to make flekice,  cabbage and noodles, so she would not throw the lunch leftovers away and ended up getting a bowl of cabbage along with his food. Then he proceeded at some point to tip the large bowl of the salad into his mouth to drink all the juices. I must say, it was hard to get used to him.

Before dinner, Sajo and I had climbed up another hill or mountain…I don’t know. It was hard because there were all these slippery, dry pine needles on the ground and we were going up a steep slope. The wind was crazy as well, it sounded like a highway. We ate some chocolate along the way and kept stopping because I was pooped. Once we got to the top, we rested once more and went back down. Upon arrival, we rested quite a bit on some sleeping bags in the shade of the building–we managed to zip up two together. We played cards and went walking a little more until dinner.

After dinner, there was a bonfire and the sound of various MP3 players from various phones graced the air. It was nice, but it would have been nicer if we were with people closer to our own age who would be playing guitar and singing together. Needless to say, we didn’t stick around for too long and went to bed ridiculously early after brushing our teeth in the communal sink.

The next morning, the tent was boiling hot. The kids were running around in circles doing morning aerobics. We got up, and while everyone else has mostly finished their breakfast of bread and butter it seemed, Sajo cooked up some sausages we had brought along with us. We also drank tea made from fresh time we picked the day before. Professor DIY did not breakfast but rather had himself a glass of rakija and some rosehip tea accented with sprigs of our thyme.  We ate then packed up our things and after a little bit of rest and if I recall correctly a brief period where Sajo had to make holes in the ground for some flag poles (homemade), we went on our way back home because Sajo had to work. We got caught in the rain just as we got into town, but otherwise everything else went well.