You're not really Bosnian if you haven't been robbed a couple of times

I have been officially initiated into Bosnian culture. Sunday night, by what means or method I know not and perhaps never will know, my wallet was stolen. Most likely it was picked off while I was at the store buying some water before heading to the church for a meeting. My Bosnian friends have warned me many times over about how sneaky and professional the pick-pocketers are here, but, careful as I've been with my money, I guess the American in me believed that I was immune to any attempts on my goods. Ha! Two days later I am all the wiser, and enjoying many servings of humble pie.

It's amazing how quickly these criminals are able to make use of their fresh kill. I raced home as soon as I realized I'd been robbed, started frantically trying to call my bank's 800 number (it was Sunday afternoon back home and I had a nightmare of a time finding the number for emergencies only), but by then $400 had already been taken from my account. Within 15 minutes after that, I checked my balance again and another $300 had vanished. Finally, with the help of my parents back home, I was able to have the bank block my account and report fraudulent activity.

The $700 loss from my bank account is in the process of being recovered, thank the Lord. Unfortunately, on that particular evening I had an equivalent of $200 in Bosnian Marks in my wallet. I usually don't carry a lot of cash on me--it had only been in there for a few hours and I'd been planning to transfer it to a safe place in my apartment that night. But that was never to be, and I have learned that in the future if I withdraw a lot of money, it needs to be secured right away.

I hope whoever robbed me is enjoying their new TV or refrigerator or free tanks of gas or home gym equipment; I'm feeling a little violated and vulnerable, but otherwise I am enjoying the good life lesson that their petty crime has taught me!