Sarajevo in the Snow
Nov. 20, 2005
It snowed all day today. I walked up and down the city streets as the snowflakes drifted from the sky, even though my feet were wet and half-frozen. It was beautiful and peaceful and melancholy. Sarajevo is a city that gets under your skin. I didn't notice it at first. Actually, Belgrade was a breath of fresh air. I could think clearly for the first time since landing in the Balkans. But the flat, majestic city is frozen compared to chaotic, little Sarajevo. I craved the mountains and the crazy cobblestone streets that wind up into the hills. I missed the fog that covered the valley. I missed the rickety trolleys that loop around the city.
I checked myself into a little pension in the old town today. I need to force myself to write before too much time goes by. It is lovely to have a place of my own, even if it is a little room. But it overlooks the entrance to the stately mosque. I can't remember which mosque, but it is the one with a spigot from which crystal clear water runs.
I am supposed to be writing a short piece about a bar called Cafe Tito, named after the iron-fisted leader of former Yugoslavia. There is an intense nostalgia for Tito. Young Sarajevans, born after his death, will tell you that Tito represents a time when their country was strong, peaceful, affluent. They have good reason to long for those days. The war was bad enough, but 10 years later unemployment, corruption and the government are catastrophic. Part of the problem is the intransigence of the Bosnian presidency. The Bosnian Serbs and Muslims blame each side for holding things up, for holding the country hostage to ethnic priorities.
The Bosnian Serbs fear a powerful central government, saying that it will be a Muslim state. The B. Muslims say the B. Serbs are holding progress up, hanging onto the Serb mainland and a mythology of greatness. I spent a couple hours with a B. Serb who fled from Sarajevo because he wanted nothing to do with the war. Eventually he ended up in California. Strangely enough, we met on the shuttle from Belgrade to Sarajevo. Reality is so random at times.
From his perspective, a centralized government as it is developing now will mean the country's Serbian heritage will be supressed. For example, why should the language be called Bosnian and not Serbian-Croatian, as it was before the war. It might be okay for the Muslims but what about the Serbs? he asked.
The people say over and over that they want peace. But it is the politicians and religious leaders who are making peace so hard for the people. There are two different versions of the war, from why it began to what happened. One version is Serb and the other is Muslim. They'll have to get the story straight pretty soon.
I will eventually leave Sarajevo but I want to soak everything in for a few more days before going to Croatia. In the meantime, I am watching the snow.
It snowed all day today. I walked up and down the city streets as the snowflakes drifted from the sky, even though my feet were wet and half-frozen. It was beautiful and peaceful and melancholy. Sarajevo is a city that gets under your skin. I didn't notice it at first. Actually, Belgrade was a breath of fresh air. I could think clearly for the first time since landing in the Balkans. But the flat, majestic city is frozen compared to chaotic, little Sarajevo. I craved the mountains and the crazy cobblestone streets that wind up into the hills. I missed the fog that covered the valley. I missed the rickety trolleys that loop around the city.
I checked myself into a little pension in the old town today. I need to force myself to write before too much time goes by. It is lovely to have a place of my own, even if it is a little room. But it overlooks the entrance to the stately mosque. I can't remember which mosque, but it is the one with a spigot from which crystal clear water runs.
I am supposed to be writing a short piece about a bar called Cafe Tito, named after the iron-fisted leader of former Yugoslavia. There is an intense nostalgia for Tito. Young Sarajevans, born after his death, will tell you that Tito represents a time when their country was strong, peaceful, affluent. They have good reason to long for those days. The war was bad enough, but 10 years later unemployment, corruption and the government are catastrophic. Part of the problem is the intransigence of the Bosnian presidency. The Bosnian Serbs and Muslims blame each side for holding things up, for holding the country hostage to ethnic priorities.
The Bosnian Serbs fear a powerful central government, saying that it will be a Muslim state. The B. Muslims say the B. Serbs are holding progress up, hanging onto the Serb mainland and a mythology of greatness. I spent a couple hours with a B. Serb who fled from Sarajevo because he wanted nothing to do with the war. Eventually he ended up in California. Strangely enough, we met on the shuttle from Belgrade to Sarajevo. Reality is so random at times.
From his perspective, a centralized government as it is developing now will mean the country's Serbian heritage will be supressed. For example, why should the language be called Bosnian and not Serbian-Croatian, as it was before the war. It might be okay for the Muslims but what about the Serbs? he asked.
The people say over and over that they want peace. But it is the politicians and religious leaders who are making peace so hard for the people. There are two different versions of the war, from why it began to what happened. One version is Serb and the other is Muslim. They'll have to get the story straight pretty soon.
I will eventually leave Sarajevo but I want to soak everything in for a few more days before going to Croatia. In the meantime, I am watching the snow.
posted by A.W. Woodall at 1:27 PM
1 Comments:
It is snowing right now... and Sarajevo looks wonderful. I will be posting a few pictures. Oh yes.. i almost forgot to tell you... i sit in Cafe Tito almost every other day..:)
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