In Sarajevo, people are living on dangerous soil. At any given moment, their homes can be covered by tons of debris toppled by a landslide, Mirela Popaja says. “Are we to wait for disaster to strike before anyone acts?”

She leans in, and her wrinkly hand shoots forward. Roughly, she closes her hand around my throat. I flinch and recoil. Her eyes are dull, and she stares at me sadly, slowly withdrawing her hand.

Monuments are meant to help us remember and heal. But sometimes, they are part of the problem again. And what do we do then if they do not help in preventing cycles of violence?

“What will happen?” This question kept popping into my head as I sat in the van, winding through the rugged mountains of Kula, somewhere between Montenegro and Kosovo.

The beautiful season of winter holidays is upon us. Many European cities are in full-on Christmas mode with their winter markets, mulled wine, beautifully shaped cinnamon cookies, tree ornaments and toys. The cafes are decorated with lights and bows and invite us all in for a hot cup of coffee or tea and to enjoy the cozy spaces that smell like Christmas.