Balkan Bumper Cars
Last weekend, I was in Ljubuski, Bosnia Hercegovina, for the Feast Day of Saint Anthony of Padua. Saint Anthony is the patron saint for the recovery of lost items.
While the focus during mass was all about celebrating Saint Anthony, after mass, the streets transformed into a different type of celebration: restaurants roasting lamb, a street fair full of vendors, and of course, amusement park rides.
I’m not a fan of most amusement park rides. Or let me rephrase that: my insides aren’t a fan of most amusement park rides.
A few years ago, my friend asked me to join her and her kids at Canada’s Wonderland, an amusement park outside Toronto, Ontario. While not a fan of Canada’s Wonderland because of the rides!- I said yes because of the kids.
It was a humid day. Our first ride was the Viking’s Rage (!!), a swinging ship that produces a feeling of weightlessness as it swings back and forth. I got off the ride, went to the bathroom, and threw up. Maybe due to the humidity. Maybe not. All I knew for sure was that my insides were not happy.
We then proceeded to go on a roller coaster, during which I swore profanities with her 12-year-old sitting next to me. He laughed. My insides were crying.
So, now, I do my best to stay away from most amusement park rides.
It’s not a headspace issue. Mentally, I understand that I am safe on the ride. But some part of my insides can’t deal with the physics of it all.
And now back to Saint Anthony and the after-party in Bosnia Hercegovina.
After mass, my friend and I walked around the street fair. We stopped at the bumper cars to see her son.
As I said, I stay away from most rides. But I do appreciate the bumper cars. The thought of slamming into another car without serious consequences seems oddly exciting. Hey, I’m being honest here.
When the bumper cars stopped, I noticed something I had not seen before. As one group of kids got out of the cars, the waiting kids jumped onto the metal track in what I can only describe as a ‘survival of the fittest’ moment. See the above photo.
I’m not surprised by much these days, but I had a moment of ‘what is this chaos?!’
I thought to myself: who’s controlling this? Where is the line-up? Where is the system? Where is the order!? How does everyone get a fair shot here?
My Canadian way of thinking had difficulty processing the fact that there was no line-up. How could this be fair? How does the slower kid get to a car when they are up against someone quicker?
There wasn’t much I could do with this new information but store it and reflect on it later.
And so that’s what I did.
A few days later, I went through the photos on my phone and laughed when I looked at the bumper car photos. I laughed because the pictures captured my interpretation of chaos. For the kids in the image, this is how things work. This is what they know, and they make it work.
I’m not here to write an essay on whether this is the best way to set up a bumper car ride. Not my circus. Not my monkeys.
Instead, the bumper car moment is a reminder that processes and order can look very different. And that to survive and thrive in these parts, I will have to adapt. Because if I don’t, well, then, I might need to call on Saint Anthony to help me recover something I might lose in the process: my mind.
And to be honest, I’d prefer to call on Saint Anthony to help me recover something less significant.
It’s the little things…
