“My father was often hired to work on construction projects in Germany and Croatia. He would be away for weeks, but every time he came back, he would bring presents. Whenever he returned, we would walk a few kilometers so we could meet him halfway to welcome him home. One time, he brought a VCR recorder from Germany. Nobody else in the village had a video player so we were the only ones who could watch cartoons and films. My friends and family would come to our house to watch movies. The adults would watch music videos of traditional Balkan bands. Whenever they finished, my friends and I watched cartoons such as Tom & Jerry and Popeye. Around our village, there were many Bosnian-Serbs. They were our neighbors and friends. I was twelve when I slowly started to realize what was happening. The war came on our last day of school. It was the third of April 1992. There were drunk soldiers around the school, misbehaving. I never realized there was a difference between my friends and me until one day when I watched an old Yugoslavian Partisan film with my friend Slavisa. There was this scene where the Partisans fought against some other army. When the scene ended, the Partisans won. Out of excitement, I said to Slavisa: ‘We won! Our army won!’ Slavisa looked uncomfortable and blushed. I didn’t understand why, and we continued watching the movie. A week later, Slavisa’s father was doing some construction in our house. His mother came over and said that Slavisa, who was sixteen at the time, had joined the Serb Nationalist Army and was sent to a battlefield in Croatia. I realized now why Slavisa blushed during the scene. It was the first time I realized there was a difference between us. I thought about the drunk soldiers near my school, how they misbehaved, and how Slavisa now belonged to them.”