The earth game

Hunger Banquet. Spanish Room. Friday evening.

As people entered they were randomly assigned “lower” “middle” or “upper class” seating. The upper class, 15% of the world’s population in our simulation, was represented by six privileged people who sat at a fancy table and were served appetizers and a nutritious-delicious curry dinner. The middle class, 25% of the population, 12 people, were served rice at plain tables. The lower class, 60%, 30 people, were forced to sit on the floor and given one pot of rice to share. After a debrief discussion, and lower class rioting, our elegant waiters transitioned the room and gave all of the lower class tables and food to eat. Meanwhile, Nikola began a World Today presentation on waste.

Next was the trash fashion show were models strutted outfits made entirely out of garbage down the runway in the Spanish room. Maida and Lusia were the primary design team. Outfits included Lusia(Belarus) in a strapless blue trash bag dress with a belt, Hilary(USA) in a second strapless, two-piece magenta and navy broken umbrella dress, Ana(BiH) in a cute flouncy dress with a top made out of fluttering receipts and an aluminum foil scrunched skirt, and Pierre(Belgium) in amour made from coffee cups, with wood sword, and a Styrofoam shield, decorated with coffee cups from the school machine, created by Maggie Bursch(USA). Kristina(BiH) wore a 50s style dress made out of newspaper, with a bent umbrella attaché, while Yenner(Turkey) walked in a newspaper shirt. Maida(BiH), an aspiring fashion designer, wore a hip 80s style trash-bag blouse with poofed sleeves, and a short skirt with coffee cup plaits. Finally, the princess of the evening, modeling a trash ball-gown, our very own Sara(USA), wore a multi-layered blue trash-bag high-waisted skirt, a semi-transparent plastic wrap strapless top, decorative plastic evening gloves, topped off with a jauntily attached hat created from a mop, newspaper, with a bubble wrap veil.

This is part of an article written by Hilary Jhonson

The next day we organized "the earth game which is another simulation of wealth and power distribution in the world. I acted as a police officer:

Just one Child

One of the first times I went to refugee camp we were playing with the children and I noticed a really shy little girl watching from a distance. When I tried to approach her, she just ran away. But she was jump-roping so I got our jump-rope and jump-roped too. We did tricks together, but from a distance and smiled at each other. Suddenly her mother came out of the house and called her in. I couldn’t stop thinking about this little girl and just in our short and distant encounter she had really touched me. After this I continued going to Refugee camp almost every week, but I did not see her for a very long time, we were working on making a room for the children to play in so I was distracted and kind of forgot about her.

Recently I went and she was there again watching from a distance, I approached her and this time she let me. I started drawing with her and she taught me the names of colors in the local language and I taught them to her in English. After drawing for a while she got out her jump rope and I got ours and we jump roped for awhile. When she got board of this she invited me into her house. It was very small but well kept and cozy, after living in dorms it was nice to be in a house even though the entire thing was smaller than 16 by 16 feet. Her mother was there making dinner and she offered me juice. I spoke the little local I know and learned some new words as the little girl; Ana Marija showed me her toys. Worn out baby dolls that had drawings on the faces, a few assorted stuffed animals, tiny cups she used as bottles to feed her dolls, and a few plastic jewels she kept in a special little box. I took one of the baby dolls into my arms and cradled it. Immediately I was eight years old again. We fed our babies, drank some more juice then went to take her pet tiger for a walk. The tiger reminded my of my own stuffed animal tiger that had been my favorite toy when I was her age. We walked the tiger, then played tag, we raced, got chased my stray dog, then chased them, and I saw the refugee camp from the perspective of an eight year old girl. We played for three hours until it was time for me to leave. I was sad to go back to my 17year old life and she was sad to see me go. The next couple weeks I was unable to go to the camp because of school, but I thought about her often, and every time I smiled, I couldn’t wait to see her again.

When I could finally go to the camp again I kept looking toward her house waiting for her to come out. Finally she did. I ran to her and we embraced, she giggled as I picked her up in a big hug. We then started to play again, we played with a ball, and played racing until her mother came out and called her inside, about five minutes latter she came out again and we resumed playing until her mother began to yell at me. I did not understand what she was saying because as I mentioned my local is very limited so I went and got a local student to translate for me they told me the mother was saying that Ana Marija was sick so she could not play. The girl looked very healthy to me so I asked if it would be ok if we just sat and drew, the mother said that would by okay. After drawing for a while once again the mother started speaking firmly to us, so once again I went and got a peer of mine to translate. As we approached the mother she yelled at us telling us to leave her alone to “go away” this is when another woman from the camp explained to us that Ana Maria’s mother was mentally ill. I was very confused, since the other day she had been so nice to me. Ana Marija kept beckoning me to come play with her so after a short while a continued to play with her, she also explained to me by moving her hand by her head that her mother was not right in the mind, I was confused and saddened by this.

We were picking little flower off of weeds on the edge of the camp when her mom approached us again. Ana Marija went to her with a tiny bouquet and gave it to her, she smelled it and smiled for the first time that day. We continued picking flowers and then began to dance to nursery songs. Soon her mother joined us, smiling, dancing, singing and clapping her hands, she went into the house and brought out some dress-up hats and masks for us to wear and we danced around in a circle laughing and singing. The woman I saw now dancing and singing with us seemed nothing like the one who had moments before yelled at us and told us to go away. We kept dancing and singing until it was time for me to leave once again.

On the bus ride back to the city that day I kept thinking about Ana Marija and her mother, and I tried to make sense of what I had just experienced. I realized that Ana Marija probably took care of her mother just as much as her mother took care of her. I found out from other volunteers that Ana Marija also had a brother who was involved with a lot of the drugs that were brought into the camp. This also troubled me. This little girl who played with dolls, and had a pet tiger just as I did lived a very challenging life that was hidden behind her playful smile. I keep asking myself questions: where will she end up? What is the best thing for her? To remain with her real mother in a refugee camp? Or to go someplace else? Does she have a reliable adult in her life? What can I do? What do all the other children have hidden behind their smiles? All I know for sure is that I am going to keep going back and try to make her and the other children of the camp’s life a little brighter.

Next Generation

For the past couple years UWC in Mostar (my school) has been struggling financially to keep going. For a while last year they didn't even know if there would be the next generation which is mine. However this year things are looking better. Recently however the board visited our school and had a meeting with our administration. One of the things that one of the major board members said that really helped us have hope and faith in the school is that "UWC in Mostar is the cutting edge of UWCs" this really made us realize how even though the school has been struggling to survive it is worth it. Because of being in a post conflict area and that the school gives full scholarships to all students from Bosnia and Herzegovina to keep a large local population in the school it has been struggling but those are also the reasons that make it amazing and unique.

The reason The Board was here was to decide if there would be new students next year and if so how many. Naturally this caused some suspense in the school; anticipation the outcome of the meeting which would determine the future of the school. After some time so anticipation it was shared that next generation we would have 100 new students (twice the number of students in my generation) which returns the number of students to the normal and optimum number for UWCs!!!!!!

Here are some pictures of "Waiting for Godot" play, it was such an amazing experience to try acting. Everything went really well, but what blew me away the most was that it was adjusted, directed, choreographed, organized and preformed by students.

Waiting for Godot

After on of the main actors in a school play the theater class was putting on dropped out because she didn't have the time, the directer, a boy in my class, asked me if I wanted to play the part. I have never acted in my life but I have always wanted to I said yes. Now all my time is put into memorizing lines hahah. The play in "Waiting for Godot" but done a little differently to match the nature of our school. The play will be preformed in 6 different languages (French, English, German, Spanish, Serbo-Croatian, Hebrew), with the characters speaking different languages to each other, but always with English in the scene to keep the non bilingual audience on track. I will post more about it and more pics later. : )

SKIING BIH!!!!!

I finally made it to Jahorina Bosnia and Herzegovinas biggest ski mountain that was used in the '88 Olympics!!!!!! It felt so good to be on snow again!!!! A blue bird sky and great friends to ski with, I couldn't have asked for a better way to spend the weekend. I love this country more and more every minute.

Back in Mostar

After a month long break where I returned to Alaska and visited my sister at university in Oregon I have returned to school and Mostar. My vacation was amazing! I was able to spend time with family, friends, and snow :), but near the end of my trip I started to realize that my life right now is not in Alaska but in Mostar. UWCiM is where I need to be now. Upon returning to school I have felt myself settling back into school life and classes with a new found confidence in how comfortable things feel to me now. I am no longer feeling my way around as much as before, I have a better understanding of the place and the school, I feel right here despite of the challenges I know I will face.

Along with a sense of belong here at school, in Mostar, I also felt a strong connection to Alaska, it became rooted in me that Alaska is where I am from, that I love the land and the people and they are a big part of who I am and who I always will be. Although for the next few years I will probably spend most of my time outside of Alaska, I know it is a place where I can always return to, always call home.