Mike
Up early. Beautiful, clear day. Hardly a cloud in the sky. Wonderful views of the hills around Sarajevo. I get to eat breakfast at the Kandil, so a little after 7 a.m. I walk to the hostel. I'd planned to meet up with Carol and the rest of the tour, but when I arrive they are almost through with breakfast. Anyway, a freshly made omelet, great coffee, pastries, and fresh fruit make this one good meal.
After breakfast it is time for me to go off to see the Jewish Cemetery. The map suggests that the 59 bus, leaving from Austrija Trg, takes me there. But no 59 buses seem to be leaving - perhaps the buses have been rerouted because of all the road closures stemming from the ceremonies.
So off I hoof, walking up the hills to the cemetery. Gently uphill on small roads through residential areas. Finally, maybe 40 minutes and 3 km later, I am above the Jewish cemetery. I look to the north to the Holiday Inn. You can see pieces of exposed roadway across the river. The Jewish cemetery was one of the sniper spots for the Serbs: sitting here, picking off folks who wanted to cross the roads in this part of town, maybe 3 km west of the old downtown.
[When we get home, we e-mail an old friend who was a cameraman for CNN in the 1990s. Had he been to Sarajevo during the siege? we ask. Yes, 6 times, and running across Sniper's Alley was really scary. Nothing like it.]
Landscaping repairs have been done. The Jewish cemetery is in pretty good shape; however, the oldest stones at the top of the cemetery are in bad shape, and some are just plain gone. I walk down through the rows, into the sections of newer graves. Toward the bottom middle of the cemetery is a large Holocaust memorial.
It is now 10:45 am. I believe that the assassination will be commemorated at noon (although maybe it was 11 am...). This timeframe gives me about an hour to walk back into town. For a little bit of that, I walk along with a Japanese fellow who is in Serbia studying the Serbo-Croatian language. Who knew?
Up in the hills and down on the streets, there are markers everywhere: So-and-So died here on such a date in 1993 or 1994. There are also 'roses' (i.e., markers for bloodshed) painted on the pavement. I didn't encounter any, but they are around, although fading.
On the way into town, I stop at the bus office, and buy a round trip to Srebrenica for tomorrow (29 Jun) and a one-way ticket to Mostar for Monday (30 Jun).
Finally, at 11:45 am, I arrive at the car (the replica of the car in which the Archduke and his wife were shot) and wait. There is a dressed-up gentleman in the car, and folks are taking turns getting into the backseat of the car and having their pictures taken. No big ceremony - nothing special at exactly noon.
[When we get home, we read the New York Times for that day http://www.nytimes.com/2014/06/29/world/europe/revelry-in-sarajevo-where-shots-started-a-world-war.html?module=Search&mabReward=relbias%3Ar%2C%7B%222%22%3A%22RI%3A17%22%7D The reporter, John F. Burns, described the ceremonies in more detail. Apparently, 70 miles away, in Visegrad, Serbs were CELEBRATING, reenacting the assassination and glorifying Princip, the assassin.]
The national library sits near the commemoration spot. The old building was firebombed on 25-26 Aug 1992, destroying 2 million books. What's past is surely prologue.
I spent a good deal of time on the computer at Kandil, posting two days worth of the blog.
At 3:30 pm, I got out and wandered around. I found a melon, bought it, and I brought it back to Kandil.
At 6 pm I was across the river from the concert hall where the Vienna Symphony was performing its commemoration concert. There was an outdoor screen, and a good bit of outdoor seating. I got to stand on the perimeter of the crowd. Encountered one of the Swedish couples who had been on the Dubrovnik-Sarajevo bus with Carol and me.
Also standing next to me was a gentleman, perhaps 35-40 years old, next to his girlfriend. He told me that in 1993 he had discovered talents as a speed skater. He managed to get out to the Netherlands, thereby escaping for the remainder of the siege. He now dedicated his life toward peace. His girlfriend, he said, had been 12 in 1992 when the Chetniks came to the house looking for her older teenage brother, who (fortunately) was not there. The Chetniks had separated the three of them (father, mother, and daughter) into separate rooms and questioned them separately. Somehow they chose the right answers, because they all survived.
The previous days and weeks of the trip were all about delicious food and fresh fruit and vegetables and wonderful buildings. But for me, Bosnia and Sarajevo seemed to be all about DEATH.
Carol
Mike joined the Adventures in Good Company crew for the bountiful breakfast.
Our destination
is Lukomir, the highest inhabited traditional village in Bosnia. We
pass the old steam train station, the Jewish cemetery, and the site of the
Olympic ski jump venue (which was sniper territory and had also been also mined). Interesting fact: the Olympic
Village was in part turned over to those who worked on its construction and put
down money over time. The parents of our Bosnian hiking guide, Leyla, live there. They workers received certificates entitling them to complete
purchase of the fully-equipped apartments at a future date (contrast that scenario with the Atlanta Olympic Village, which was designed to house students).
Along the way, we eventually leave the main road. We climb through forests on a
bumpy gravel road to reach the starting point of our hike. Other hikers are at the same trailhead as us. The trail rises in alpine
meadows. There are red and white painted stones for markers (Leyla says that
they were placed by Austrians who used their national colors). Lots of flowers.
Blue skies. Walking through tall grasses with two poles is a new experience for
Carol; it takes some time to get the proper rhythm.
About 40 minutes in we pass a natural spring and refill
our bottles, canteens and water bladders (the water is pure). The trail is
rocky and/or muddy in places. A few stumbles, but a steady uphill. We encounter
a few other hikers, including a British group carrying a number of their kids as they walk.
As we walk, we have seen isolated Islamic tombstones.
These date from the 13th to 15th centuries. This remote mountainous area, with
flocks of sheep within stone-walled meadows, has supported its inhabitants for a
long long time.
At last we reach Lukomir. A hodgepodge of stone and
sheet-metal roofed structures, it supports mostly older residents (who have
either of 2 surnames). A real feast is brought out for our lunch: huge round
pans of fresh baked cheese and potato spiral pastries, pitchers of fresh yogurt
to drink, and coffee brewed in a copper pot (which holds enough for around 20
servings). As we eat, we watch an old man carve wooden spoons. Several older women
appear, carrying bags of knitted socks with traditional patterns. Some hikers
try them on, then purchase.
After a walk through the village, back into the waiting van. We glimpse a café serving outside visitors as we depart (what next - a Starbucks?). The
return ride seems longer and more jouncey-bouncey.
Mike is waiting with a melon at the
pension <smile>.
After a much-needed shower and some lingerie washing for Carol, it's
time for dinner. We walk several blocks to Sarajevska Pivnica, a large old brewery that is the home of Sarajevska Piva (beer). Several kinds of house-made brews,
both filtered and unfiltered, are produced here. People at our table ordered all kinds of dishes. Portions large and tasty, but service was slow (the house was packed with assassination tourists and locals watching World Cup). Much interesting conversation.
Tonight, dinner was provided as promised, but we had to pay for our drinks. Armed with money exchanged upon entering Bosnia, Carol had the exact 3 coins
that covered the cost of her beer. Easy peasy. Everyone else had large bills.
Some ended up pulling out American credit cards and charging the relatively trivial amounts when the waiter
couldn't come up with sufficient change.
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