Leaving Sarajevo

It’s raining here in Sarajevo. The morning reminds me of 8am’s in Boston, with the rush of the people going to work. Driven. Open shop! Gates opening and people waiting for buses.
Except there’s music playing in Downtown Sarajevo. Yes, music—on a Monday--early afternoon. And the Bosnian-British accent of the tour guide resounds, “We Bosnians love our coffee, and you just have to sip it for half an hour. Oh and, you never sip coffee alone. Always with friends.” “We can’t afford to be psycho here,” she says, “so our friends are our psychiatrists over coffee.” My racing heart, desperate for some slowing down, eats it all up; breathes the fresh air of slow pace and slows….