Different Cultures

A couple of days ago, our trash got picked up and the streets cleaned. It was wonderful to stand in the window at 0130 in the morning feeding Max, to see the big yellow truck collecting the garbage. I felt like running out to the men and scream; "Grazie, Mille Grazie" But I think they would take me as a crazy woman and lock me up!

Yesterday I went into the city were my friend lives. Twenty meters of garbage and one and half meter high garbage "hills" were laying everywhere. Even outside the big car sale companies like Saab, Volvo, Mercedes etc.

Think of buying a brand new car, and with the incredible stink as a background-- that makes you breath with your mouth open. (At the same time you realize that it is not healthy at all to breathe in.) Just amazing that businesses will tolerate such conditions, let alone the "private" people.

My Italian friend is upset over this, and more upset even to hear how many International people that are working here complain about it. Saying things like living here is like living in the third world, or they feel like they are in Baghdad. One can see how a "local" would take offense... but then why not do something about the bad situation?

That made me remember when I came home from Bosnia, many Swedish people would ask me why we didn't solve problems faster down there.

As I learned, it isn't easy to solve problems when even the Government doesn't follow the rules. So many are bought and paid for by crime and special interests!

At that time, we had veterinarian equipment and dog food donated by kind people in Nothern Europe. SAS sponsored us to fly it all down to Sarajevo.

I went to the airport with my interpreter and the Bosnian President (for the dog organization we sponsored), to sign for the loaded pallet, and take it out.

The dog food in the stores was over priced, so that many people simply boiled pasta for the dogs (filling but not nearly nutritious enough). The veterinarians had poor equipment, and to be able to donate to them would be was a wonderful goal.

At the airport I was told that the papers-- for the pallet-- were missing some signatures! I had to come back with a correct paper/signature.

Home to the apartment, faxed, and two days later we went back to the airport. Another, different man looked at the paper--"not correct you need a stamp", we were told. "Come back."

By this time, some of the cartons were opened and things had been stolen. Back home to the apartment, more faxing, and this time it took one week.

Back again to the airport, the same story; a new man, new law, new rule, had to go home, etc., etc.

The Swedish donators started to get irritated, and justifiably so. Nobody wants to donate and then have a lot of problems bothering you to get it into the right hands.

A month later I got the "ok" from a Customs Official, but now they wanted rent for my pallet--it had been taking up space in their warehouse. I told them we were a non-profit foundation, and no one was even paid for our work. We didn't have any money for the rent they required.

They didn't care that we were there to help "them" in their country. Frankly, they were kind of irritated that we helped animals.

I tried to explain that Sarajevo had 189 organizations "helping" people, but only two organizations helping animals. And by the way, these dogs had had owners before the war!

Frustrated, I thought of paying myself, from my own pocket. Surely one pallet couldn't require that much "rent". I asked the Customs guy how much? He calculated on a piece of paper looked up and said; "2500DEM"

I thought he was having a language problem, but no, I had heard correct.

There was no way I could come up with that much money. What to do?

Take the paper, go up to the Customs Office and have them sign that this was now a gift to the Government!!! from us!

The goods got later on re-marked and priced, sold on the black market. If we had more money we could go to the market early in the morning and pay for "our own" things!

Memory two: A lot of us Swedish people got frustrated when a lot of immigrants started to have their opinion over how things are done in our country. Many said; "Well, go back home to your country if you don't like it here."

So when we are guests in a new country--we should try to be they same way as when we visit someone's home, polite and respectful. We have a choice, go home if we don't like it.

That's to be lucky, to have a choice--that's Amore!