When I was new at my old job, I was stuck with an older guy that was going to retire. He was a legend. Infamous. Anyone who knew him had a story to tell, and I was (un)fortunate to be in his shadow for over six months. Being assigned to him was a blessing and a curse. I think about this guy almost every day. I won’t use his real name, so let’s call him Ramón, because that’s a name he used when giving examples.
Ramón was an unassuming kind of guy, yet when he opened his mouth, he’d flood you with monologue. He spoke nonstop more or less, and could wear people down. He said so many things, that it was hard to process in real time, yet there still seems to be a backlog of his monologue still processing in my mind. It turns out he keeps teaching me lessons, despite not seeing him in many years. His monologue and style actually helped me become the best at what I did. I became a legend too, in my own right, but never managed to be as verbose as the old man. One thing he said often was that “you gotta smile at life.” Yeah yeah Ramón. No, wait a moment - you’re right, viejo, so right. I find myself saying that to myself often, and when things start to suck, those words start to dangle over my mind’s eye.
Bosnia was a trying experience for me.
The honeymoon wore off rather fast. Yes, it’s a beautiful country. Yes, there is a lot to learn. I didn’t have a bad time, I’ll say from the start, but I didn’t have an easy time, which means my time there will be more memorable than other places where everything was so easy. Budapest is a good example. I had few memorable experiences, few trials (except the mean girl at the airport), so it slips my mind that I spent a month there, too. Kinda funny how that works.
It was hot in Sarajevo. Getting around was infuriating, and honestly the food really wasn’t that great. I’ve had Balkan cuisine, so čevap and all that wasn’t new to me, and in my opinion, the best čevap came from a stall in the old market in Skopje. The meat was cooking next to clay pots of tavče gravče (my favorite!), so don’t come at me telling me the best čevap is in Travnik. It’s not, and I had it in two different places in Travnik. It’s fine, but not to the point where you gotta have it. I’d rather have a deli sandwich, thank you. I sought out a Taco Bell a few days ago at one of the malls in Sarajevo. It was the first time in over a decade that I’d eaten it. I just wanted something different. I was in Bosnia a month, and you can’t eat čevap, stuffed peppers, and all that stuff regularly, but there just weren’t that many good alternatives. Balkan burgers need pork in them, like they have in Macedonia and Serbia. The supposedly secular (not actually secular) Federation side won’t serve you a proper gourmet burger with bits of mouthwatering bacony pork mixed in the meat. Beef burgers are whatever, man. They only deliver when smothered in green chile, and if it ain’t, I’d rather have a veggie burger (more flavor). There is a great Italian restaurant in Sarajevo, Nostra Cucina. I ate there twice. The pizza is phenomenal, and even the High Representative, Christian Schmidt, likes to eat there. His security goons really like me. Nostra Cucina also serves their own homemade rakija. Their quince rakija is amazing. Insane. I should have bought a bottle, because it was the best rakija I’ve ever had.
I got really bad food poisoning a couple weeks ago, and the problem was that I couldn’t figure out where it came from. People don’t wear gloves handling food. I watched one guy at a kebab stand handle raw chicken, play on his phone, then make a customer’s order. No gloves. No handwashing. I walked away. Other places are similar, they take out the sandwich from the case with their bare hands. I tried politely asking a few times for people to not touch it with their bare hands, but they were offended. One lady was angry. Ok, if I’m the perceived problem, then they aren’t accustomed to those practices, so eating out is a gamble. My poor guts.
I had to force myself to try and keep my spirits up, but once I got sick, I couldn’t hardly leave the room, and once I could, it was just too dang hot to really bebop much. I felt stuck. Where could I go? Another war/genocide museum? Another shopping mall? It was tough. One thing that brought me some comfort was when I remembered chatting with an older lady in Tašmajdan Park in Belgrade, she told me that Felix meant happiness. She was right. How well was I living up to that name, when I was being so negative? Was I smiling at life, like Ramón always said? No, I wasn’t, but his voice brought me to a place where I could. Ramón and Radmila helped me to remember to keep up my spirits. Attitude is all about perspective, right?
I’m on the trip of a lifetime, after all, and am doing and seeing things I’ll remember for the rest of my days. I won’t always be traveling like this. For me, I found that long-term travel is unsustainable. I’m under contract on a house back in the US, and so before long, my trip will be over, but the journey won’t end. I have so much to do already piling up, it’s exciting. I like staying busy, so fixing things, decorating the house, and meeting the neighbors will be great. I’ll share my Felix-felicidad.
One thing is for sure - I’m staying retired. I can’t work for the man again. I’ve always had a tough time with authority, and it’s no better now. Don’t tell me what to do. What I do plan to do is put down roots and connect with people, and make a go at a publishing company. A tranquil environment to focus on writing doesn’t sound too bad, either. I should be able to make a trip overseas each year, but it’ll be more focused, and focus is good.
I’ll be returning to the US with open eyes.
This trip has helped cut off a previous life that had become gangrenous. Luckily that “limb” has grown back, and is stronger than ever. This next chapter of my life will continue to embrace ćejf, or the slow enjoyment of life. Don’t rush me. And yes, Ramón, I’ll be smiling at life.
The Balkans has taught me a lot about America, if you can believe it, and I’m working on an essay about it. I had thought about doing the permanent expat thing off and on, and for me, that’s just not going to work. Instead of running away, why not use my gifts towards making life better? Why not share my felicidad with my own?
I know things are tough in the US, and I’m prepared for it. Things blow over. “Leaders” come and go. There are worse places. Honestly, the US has a lot to offer to a curious person, and I’ll be living in a new place, so I see some bebops in my future. The US has lots of depth, just like anywhere. You can’t get Pueblo green chile, or even Hatch green chile (inferior to Pueblo) in Europe, guys, and I need it. It’s in my blood. I can’t imagine never having it smothered over my breakfast again. If you’ve never had a full breakfast smothered in green chile, put that at the top of your list. You won’t regret it.
What does it even mean to smile at life?
The meaning of Ramón’s phrase has continued to evolve for me. For now, I’ve welded it to the Stoic belief that attitude and perspective are controllable, and the way we experience life is all we control. Am I going to have a good day or a bad one? If I’m having a bad day, it’s my fault. Adjust your impressions. Even when I’m not feeling well I can choose to do something productive or beneficial. Even when I feel stuck, I can read a book and be liberated. Life is a gift. I used to become irritated hearing children playing. It drove me nuts. Now, I welcome the sound - it means they aren’t glued to a screen. Play, sing, shout. Stay off the tablet!
Life can get tough, that’s what it does, right? But that’s where a lot of the spice comes from. Who wants to read a novel or watch a film with no conflict, no struggle to overcome? Sounds boring. Trees that never experience wind aren’t rooted well, we all know that, and the same applies to people. If we can perceive the strong winds of life, we can learn from them, and grow stronger roots. One thing I learned was to be humble before myself. Just because I made a decision doesn’t mean it was the right one. Just because I wrote a story doesn’t mean it’s great. I have to adapt and resist inat!
So what’s the plan for now?
I’ll be in Poland for the month. I’m excited to explore and learn. I know next to nothing about Poland, so it’ll be fun soaking up the history and culture. Having some skill with Ukrainian is helpful, but the accented letters are tough so far. I can understand okay if I’m listening. I’ll manage. I’m staying in Wrocłow (Breslau), and so far, it’s an amazing city with lots of green spaces and a beautiful market square. My bebops are going to be fruitful, I just know it. The Red Baron was from a nearby town, so I’ll be swinging by to check that out soon! Fun fact - in Denver, where I’m from, the Richtofen family built a mansion, and it’s still there! You can’t see much from the street, but it’s an interesting tidbit.
And so to all my friends here on Substack, remember to smile at life!
-FT
Appreciate you telling it straight, Felix. I think your purposeful approach to happiness makes some real sense. Plenty of people living in abject poverty that are happy and plenty of rich spoiled people in therapy.
Hope your adventure in Poland goes well!
Wroclaw is lovely. Enjoy!