Prijepolje

I spent over half of my Monday - 13 hours - on the bus. For work, I went to the titular town in South Serbia for a commemoration of the 13th anniversary of a massacre in Strpci, a nearby town. Muslims were taken off a train and killed.

It was nearly identical to the commemoration I attended in October in another Sandzak town: a lot of time on the bus, a panel discussion, a march, throwing some roses in a river, watching mothers cry. The towns even looked similar enough that I wasn't sure that we weren't in the same place for a hour or so. Some slight variations: there was no English speaker on the panel and there were movies on the bus. It's a bit troubling that these things are starting to feel routine. At this one I had a special purpose, beyond just swelling the ranks. I was the videographer. It was my job to record everything. It was nice to feel useful, although by focusing so much energy on holding my hands steady, I totally missed what most of the people at the panel discussion said.

Maybe I should replay my video and figure it out. I probably won't bother.