The end

They say all stories have an end. I am not completely sure, but I do know that this story had one.

The stories from Mostar have ended, even though Mostar is more than ever in my heart.

Though I am one of those who always have said that life in a UWC never ends, and I keep thinikng we are right, one has to understand that, however, it does not continue being in the same way.

Now there is a trunk so full up of memories that it seems a black hole, prepared to swallow one if one is not careful to say: no! life keeps being as marvellous! and the world is still full of things, little things, and bigger things to discover.

Today some tears appeared while reading a brief comment of a first year, a comment that made me dive in an ocean of smells, sceneries, streets, rooms, corridors, faces... that made me remember those last coffees with the beloved ones and with the ones I did not have time to love enough.

This is one of those experiences in which any word would say too little.

That is why, now that this adventure has ended for sure, we will be able to taste its juice in the already written in this blog...

or in the thousand things that have been left to say, and that perhaps will appear randomly at the new world that is beginning: Edinburgh and its university, and its theatre, and its people, and its sky...

Històries des de Mostar will soon stop being: www.neusrodeta.blogspot.com. But it will not disappear, it will only pass on to another domain.

In this direction, soon, you will find Snijeg u Edinburgh (Snow in Edinburgh in bosnian/croatian/serbian)

En aquesta direcció, prontament, trobareu Snijeg u Edinburgh (que en bosni/croata/serbi vol dirNeu a Edinburgh).

Nothing else,

thank you to all of those who, by internet, phone, letter, or tangible presence, have accompanied me in this wonderful journey

"When a door for happiness closes, another opnes, but sometimes we look so much time at the one that closed, that we cannot see the one that just opened in front of us."

Photo: flags in front of Musala residence. Don't you see mine? The Little Prince's rose.

El fin

(Post original en català avall)

Dicen que todas las historias tienen un final. Yo no lo tengo claro del todo, pero sí que se que esta lo ha tenido.

Las histories desde Mostar han acabado, aunque Mostar esté más en el corazón que nunca.

Aunque soy de las que siempre han dicho que la vida en un Colegio del Mundo Unido nunca se acaba, y sigo creyendo que estamos en lo cierto, una tiene que entender que, sin embargo, no continúa siendo de la misma manera.

Ahora hay un baúl tan lleno de recuerdos que parece un agujero negro, dispuesto a tragarsele a una si no está en guarda para decir: no! la vida sigue siendo igual de maravillosa! i el mundo sigue estando lleno de cosas, cositas y cosotas por descubrir.

Hoy me han caído lágrimas al leer un breve comentario de un primer año, que me ha hecho bucear en un océano de olores, paisajes, calles, habitaciones, pasillos, caras... que me ha hecho recordar aquellos últimos cafés con la gente que amaba y con la gente que no tube tiempo de amar lo suficiente.

Esta es una de esas experiencias en que toda palabra diría demasiado poco.

Es por eso que, ahora que esta aventura seguro ha acabado, podremos volver a saborear su zumo en lo ya escrito en este blog...

o en las mil cosas que habrán quedado por decir, y que puede que aparezcan esporádicamente en el nuevo mundo a empezar: Edimburgo y su universidad, y su teatro, y sus gentes, y su cielo...

Històries des de Mostar pronto dejará de ser: www.neusrodeta.blogspot.com. Pero no desaparecerá, solo pasara a otro dominio.

En esta dirección, pronto, encontraréis Snijeg u Edinburgh (que en bosnio/croata/serbio quiere decir Nieve en Edimburgo).

Nada más,

gracias a todos los que, por internet, teléfono, carta o presencia tangible, me habéis acompañado en este maravilloso viaje.

"Cuando la puerta de la felicidad se cierra, otra se abre, pero a veces miramos tanto tiempo aquella puerta que se cerró, que no vemos la que se ha abierto frente a nosotros."

Foto: banderes delante de la residencia. ¿No veis la mía?avant la residència. No veieu la meua? La rosa de petit príncep.

La fi

Diuen que totes les històries tenen un final. Jo no ho sé del tot cert, però si que sé que aquesta l'ha tingut.

Les històries des de Mostar han acabat, tot i que Mostar estiga més al cor que mai.

Tot i que soc de les que sempre han dit que la vida a un Col·legi de Món Unit mai s'acaba, i seguisc creient que tenim raó, hom ha d'entendre que, tanmateix, no continua éssent de la mateixa manera.

Ara hi ha un bagul tan ple de records que sembla un forat negre, disposat a engolir-li a una si no està en guarda per dir: no! la vida segueix sent igual de meravellosa! i el món segueix estant ple de coses, cosetes i cosotes per descobrir.

Avuí m'han eixit les llagrimes al llegir un breu comentari d'un primer any, que m'ha fet bussejar en un oceà d'olors, paisatges, carrers, habitacions, passadissos, cares... que m'ha fet recordar aquells últims cafés amb els estimats i amb els que no vaig tindre temps d'estimar prou.

Aquesta és una d'eixes experiències en que tota paraula diria massa poc.

És per això que, ara que aquesta aventura ha acabat de ben cert, podrem tornar a assaborir el seu suc en el ja escrit en aquest blog...

o en les mil coses que hauran quedat per dir, i que pot ser apareixeran esporàdicament al nou món que comença: Edinburgh i la seua universitat, i el seu teatre, i la seua gent, i el seu cel....

Històries des de Mostar pronte deixarà de ser: www.neusrodeta.blogspot.com. Però no desapareixerà, només el passaré a un altre domini.

En aquesta direcció, prontament, trobareu Snijeg u Edinburgh (que en bosni/croata/serbi vol dir Neu a Edinburgh).

Res més,

gràcies a tots els que, per internet, telèfon, carta, o presència tangible, m'heu acompanyat en aquest meravellós viatge.

"Quan una porta de la felicitat es tanca, una altra s'obri, però de vegades mirem tant aquella que es va tancar, que no veiem la que s'acaba d'obrir davant nostre."

Foto: banderes davant la residència. No veieu la meua? La rosa de petit príncep.

A while of my new age

0 o'clock and what was I doing?

Drinking carajillo* in a bar while learning a bit of hebrew vocabulary (not that I got to learn much anyway).

*Carajillo: coffe with rum or cognac/brandy

And, of course, waiting. It seems we all have to wait since nobody seems to be able to be on time. But it is more pleasant while doing something else, it keeps away the anxiety, frustation and the possible anger for being made to wait.

What do we do now? Wait. Yes, but while waiting. What about hanging ourselves?

Yes, that means Godot's lines are still in my head, for the desperation of the ones by my side.

Finally my friend came, but nothing to be done. Not much in the mood, and even less since all people around were at least 8 years older and I knew non of them. I even met a friend of my father and the parents of some old classmate.

The concert wasn't like it was something nice to be heard, I'm not that much in heavy lately...plus the singer was quite an enthusiastic one, and he approached me (dunno whether encouragin me to dance or what). It's not like the sweat and the cow piercing on his nose was the nicest thing. But at least he played the tambourine every now and then, which gave him certainly a point not many heavy singers can be proud to have. (LOL)

I kept checking my phone every now and then. Had not much to do apart from drinking my bear and chat some random words to even more random people.

You always hope to get some sms on your birthday. Like some years ago, when they arrived even some seconds before it was mid night.

Nothing now.

I wonder whether that just lets me see how much distanced I have gained from people here. Though it's not like I cared for birthdays being an essential of one's life, but they certainly have a point of it.

Guess it is the feeling of being rememberd, being cared for, being important enough to spend 0,15-0'20 cents in a sms? Ha (sorry: Ja).

Not that I reminded anybody. True. Didn't even consider it, to be honest.

Difference being only that now I am right when I say I'm 19 (lately I said that right away and had to correct myself again and again).

"Things are not about how they start but about how they end" I was thinking at some point, looking either at my beer or the weird band playing. Guess I tried to give still a chance to my birthday-day. Then I thought "well, that's wrong, they're actually about what you learned of the experience when it comes to and end".

Learn that:

-life keeps going on.

-smiling still makes people happy (or a bit less sad)

-cats in Spain can shout as much as Musala's

-there's never enough time to give all you beloved what they deserve

-blabla

and that Godot didn't.

No.

He didn't come

yet.