Travel Reference
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pily spinning the same kind of batons my sisters spun when I was a tyke. And then a sweet
younger girl walked by all alone—lost in thought, carrying a tattered violin case.
Even in a country without its own currency, in a land where humble is everything's
middle name, parents can find an old violin and manage to give their little girls grace and
culture. Letting that impression breathe, it made me happier than I imagined it would.
Traveling in war-torn former Yugoslavia, I see how little triumphs can be big ones.
I see hardscrabble nations with big aspirations. And I see the value of history in under-
standing our travels, and the value of travel in understanding our history.
