first day (working) at Noah's Ark. i'm not sure what my responsibilities are; trying not to get hung up about this.

the kids are divided on the matter: half think i am deaf, while the other half continue chattering without pausing to consider that at best i pick up a sentence or two from their outpourings of animated language. they range in age from 3 to about 6, which may be the overarching reason why structured activities are difficult. i was looking at the pictures in one corner of the main room, and it seems that many of them have been at NA since they were tiny. it's a haven of sorts—with more noah paraphanalia than one could imagine.

the two non-Serbian speaking kids are teaching me a lot about how it's important and not important to know the dominant surrounding language—and about the psychological nature of language acquisition, how being lost/misunderstood/ignored manifests itself. sometimes it's hard to see these factors emerging in adults, because of strong societal pressures to internalise discomfort, to say that things are going well even if they're not. meanwhile, i have M. who is 3 and reminds me of erica ("will you come-u to my house-u, "as bona fide Japanese) when we first moved to japan—convinced that everyone can understand him *when* he talks, because he has only a concept of speech, but not one of speaking in different ways. M. is neither bothered nor overjoyed by understanding, getting a meaning across, because, for him, not being understood does not exist. E., on the other hand, with his working-class british accent at age 5, has already come to hate the fact that, at most times, he can neither comprehend the others not be comprehensible to them. while he pretends not to care, playing primarily alone and establishing his separateness at every opportunity, it's obvious that it pains him to encounter this unbreachable-except-by-humility-and-effort barrier constantly, in large and small ways. his violence says something about the fundamental human reaction to communication failure.

met up with amela—and sara and david, who came down (2 hours by bus) from Novi Sad, where they work as MCC volunteers in the college there. we all had a "nice" (according to amela, MCC just wants to make us happy) lunch in town, where we sat for several hours and discussed everything about this region that puzzles, troubles, and delights us. it's so good for me to hear there questions raised that i think about perpetually, especially breathing this new air instead of imagining myself wheezing, and to not bump up against a void or an inflexible party line. david thinks about things in a very similar manner to me; we have, between the two of us, most of the MCC library related to Serbs/Kosovo and general historical overviews of the region in our possession. it was *wonderful* to realise that they are only a few hours away—and *not* just to shift the libraries around. i become so starved for real conversation; i can exist with the small success of asking for something and having the other person understand enough to respond to me, but this cannot substitute for true interaction, at least not for long periods of time. like 2 days, apparently. something of which to be mindful.

amela and natasa went back to Sarajevo; david and sara, back to Novi Sad. so now i'm the sole MCC representative in this huge, odd city. i've decided to start taking the tramvaj and bus.