Every day I remember the famous graffiti on Carinski bridge in Mostar that reads: “The borders are in
your head!” And, indeed they are in the heads of individuals, but despite that, the borders affect
many people. Two days ago, thirty young people simply, without hesitation crossed those borders.
I ran into my Religion Studies teacher in the halls of my school. He informed me that he had received
a letter from a local NGO inviting students of Mostar to travel to Nevesinje, a town just a few
kilometers away, to visit a church and hang out with our peers from Nevesinje. I happily accepted the
invitation and spent the next two days in anticipation. I got up early the morning of the trip and
headed towards the Spanish Square. Since I didn’t know any of the other students from Mostar I sat
alone in the bus. As the trip to Nevesinje began, my thought wandered. I thought about how close
those two towns are, barely an hour away from each other, and yet I had never visited Nevesinje. I
felt embarrassed. Obviously, I too had been affected by “The borders that are in our heads.” I
realized the absurdity of these borders. Crossing the border of our entity, I felt no different.
Everything was still the same, the beauty of my country, my thoughts, the small Herzegovinian
villages. Everything was the same, like twins. The students of Nevesinje greeted us and we headed to
the small, newly built Orthodox Church. It wasn’t my first time visiting a different oratory, but
regardless, it was a special feeling, and I wanted to be as respectful as I possibly could. As we were
leaving the church, I noticed a large donation box. I had always felt curious about how it felt to help
one so different from myself. I pulled a coin out of my pocket and put it in the box. The box was
empty and the sound of my coin hitting the bottom of the box reverberated loudly through the
church. The loud thump helped me realize that it doesn’t matter whether I’m helping someone that’s
the same as I am or not, as long as I’m helping, because we are all people, we’re all of meat and
bone. The sound blew away all of the “borders in my head”, all of those bad feelings, as if it were
wind. After visiting the Orthodox Church, we visited a Mosque, and I realized the true meaning of
“Love your own, respect what’s other’s.” it was amazing to see the students of Nevesinje ask about
my religion with true interest and respect.
Writing this, I know that coin didn’t mean much to the church, but it meant a lot to me. It helped me
realize the importance of mutual respect and peaceful coexistence in this county. Now I live by these
words: “Love your own, respect what’s other’s.”