Mackenzie Rollins | Weblog

m: bosnians love to chaff. i’m repeating myself in telling you this, to emphasize. if you stroll down a street, any street, you’ll find evidence of times of rest and enjoyed company.

makeshift stools. demitasse cups, with thick grounds lurking in their depths. abandoned sugar packets. plastic sacks from the local pekara (bakery). ah, of course, kifla and croissants to complement.

i think my name should switch to macgyver when i happen upon these spots. i feel as if i’ve come upon clues that will lead me to something juicy. i stop. sniff. inspect. lick my finger and promptly lift it to the wind, looking to find the socialites. the men are usually nearby and not ashamed of having left blatant evidence of their recent pause. i say men, because they are the majority of the physical labor workforce. women work in corner shops, bakeries, local markets, and hot spots for the newest garb. yes, men work inside as well, but you never see women doing the street sweeping, trash, or cement mixing. for the present conversation, i’m speaking of these such workers.

i notice their customary times of rest because its such an unusual and refreshing sight. they sit all sorts of ways: cross-legged, indian-style, or plopped on cute button cushions. (obviously a premeditated prop. its like us taking lunch to work in america, only its a cute stool. try it. maybe you’ll make new friends.)

at home, i’m used to seeing well-to-do women at the local starbucks. or emo college kids. or young “uptown” yuppies (no offense), but not the average joe’s. not the cement mixers, the garbage men, the janitors. i highly respect all of these positions, i really do, because i know i’ve never worked as hard as they on a day-to-day basis. i’ve never had to sweat that much to bring a paycheck home, and i can only imagine how tiresome it must be.

there is something beautiful about seeing proof of a break in the day. of that necessary interlude. it reminds me of the spanish siesta i noticed while living in spain. a time in which it seemed the whole world closed for a few hours each day in order to take a deep breath, only to resume shortly thereafter. deep inhale. slow, rhythmic exhale. today. tomorrow. the next day.

there is much to be said about hard work, physically intensive or not. but just as important and necessary is time reserved to consciously rest. i like seeing little reminders of this throughout the city, especially in “inappropriate” places like bushes and on sidewalks.

goodbye for now. i love you.