A piece of message from a very dear person in Sarajevo reminds me another episode of my life as student, back in Sarajevo.
Let's call him Hocam (read: Hojam), which can be translated as my teacher.
Student would see him strolling in the street, from home to his workplace, and vice versa. We would see him during prayer time in the university main building, during coffee break either in front of vending machine or in cafeteria, downstairs. In any of those occasion, he would happily greeted whoever passing by. It could be with salam, in bosnian, or turkish. He is approachable by everyone from any nationality, yet respected by everyone too.
He is special.
He’s teaching several math classes. I am using simple tense as I expected he is still around university at the moment. He would bring number of marker, couple of books and a cup of coffee or just water.
He started the class with a smile - which never left his face. He would then revise what we have learned in the previous class, and then continue the class by writing in the white board. Wait, never end writing. He would proof some formula, took some lemma and derive it, and so on. Those who studied engineering might enjoy the class way better than those from social science, for instance. Fyi, he was teaching for freshman and sophomore class, and everyone within these years should take the class, nevertheless.
I was one of the student that enjoy the class, as I found it understandable in compare to micro-economic, and world history . Nightmare.
As much as I enjoy, as much as I would sleep in his class. He woke me up all the time, to the point that I felt sorry for doing so. I once skip his class and sleep somewhere, in which he get somehow mad for me skipping the class. Some other time, he called me to his office after a semester because I got B- or C from him. Which he complained about it, not me. I deserved it (after sleeping all the time hehe )
Thats my hoca in the class
On the other side, he and his wife frequently invited students to have brunch, lunch, dinner, ot just evening coffee. The loneliness you felt during study abroad can be cured with just meeting up with them. She speaks no english, which at the beginning was quite challenging for me to communicate with her. Sometime, when she wanted to explain something to me, she would call some turkish student, and he or she would translate it for me.
She would always be there for us.
Bayram, or Eid, would always full of joy while they’re around. After bayram namaz, we would gather in their house. Talking with each other, embrace each other, even calling or family from her house so everyone can get to know each other. She would provide whatever we need. And it’s lovely. And I am thankful for them.
And hocam, he would let us enjoy the day with his wife. he would not even interrupt.
Few days after this Eid, he wrote on my social media. I am truly happy. He haven’t forgotten me.
