Dateline Mostar, Bosnia and Hercegovina 2015. Yet another innocent child thrust into a parallel universe by accident of birth…
Saying anything more would require a heartbreaking reckoning with centuries of tribalism, religiosity, racism, violence, sexism, poverty, exploitation, stereotyping, scapegoating, and more.
I will allow the images to speak for themselves.
Thanks for letting the pictures do the talking. They did so very effectively.
It’s heartening to know there are people like you who get it.
So heartbreaking to see the kids begging on the streets and cafes etc. Saw much of that in Zagreb, Croatia a couple of months ago also. Always of Gypsy ethnicity that I saw and the word is that they are forced by their parents or family to beg, given the lowest limit they must bring back from begging… Just makes me so angry at the parents who do this to their children.
I share your heartbreak, Ina. Alas, such is a common practice in Africa, Asia, and the Americas as well. One solution, of course, is to refrain from giving the child money. Well meaning tourists don’t realize that their generosity only encourages and perpetuates the exploitation. Here’s hoping.
Is this girl a member of the Roma people, do you think?
Roma, yes.
Way to get around the dualisms inherent in words! You used just enough of them to caption the story those pictures told better than any more of them ever could. I have to admire your technique here in difficult territory. Most effective!
Thank you for seeing without saying and for bearing witness without choosing sides, dear Ana.
Haha, there are so few equipped to see that in me! You’re special.
🌻🙏
Such a beautiful child. In the frame that moved me the most, she appears to be trying to touch the hand of a woman who seems to be brushing her away. But your litany of The Girl from Mostar’s place in life is in itself memorable.
Thanks for the words of appreciation and for sharing your thoughts, Annie.
To be fair to the woman in question, I believe it was an impulse to protect the girl from ME… until she realized, almost instantly, that I was not a threat in the least. On the contrary, I wish I could have rescued that sweet innocent child from the insanity she is trapped in.
Alas, she’ll never know that decent people like you and I even know she exists, much less care enough to cry for her from a distance as we lament her meager prospects in life.
Thanks for your explanation, Frank. I much prefer it to my perception!
Words fail me. :'(
Thanks for having the heart and guts not to turn away.