Sarajevo -

Sarajevo…where do I begin with this city? With its beauty, immense historical significance, recent suffering and violence, and remarkable recovery to a bustling metropolis once again?

IMG_5006 (3) — Just a typical walk through the narrow streets of Sarajevo’s beautiful old city.

IMG_4871 (2) — Morning fog shrouds the surrounding hills.

My decision to come to the Balkans was driven in large part by my work supporting the peace-keeping efforts here in the late 90’s. Then, the names of obscure Balkan cities and neighborhoods were part of my everyday vocabulary. Which is not to say that I knew much at all about the war itself. I wasn’t even in high school yet when the war broke out, and, strangely enough, I didn’t need to know about the war to do my job. Regardless what I did or didn’t know, I had no real comprehension of what happened here – of the magnitude of the murderous violence and depravity carried out against defenseless civilians by the Serbian and Republic of Srpska forces; of the civilians – people trying to live their lives in the midst of war – intentionally killed and lives destroyed in Serbia’s attempt to ethnically cleanse the region of all non-Serbs, especially Muslims. I had no understanding of the siege of Sarajevo – a siege which lasted 1,425 days (nearly 4 years) and which entailed Serbian and Republic of Srpska forces occupying the hills around the city and relentlessly shelling the civilian population trapped there. It’s estimated an average of 377 shells were fired on the city of Sarajevo every day during the siege. They had snipers to shoot civilians with high-tech, scoped machine guns supplied by the Russian government. I understood all of this as well as anyone who’s never experienced such atrocities personally, which is to say not at all.

The story of what happened here is overwhelming, and the reminders are everywhere. There are monuments throughout the city to honor those killed in general, as well as those killed in specific attacks at specific locations. Many building still retain the pock-marked scars of the shelling that took place around them. Exploding shells left divets in the concrete that radiated out from the center, like a flower; these were painted with a red resin and are known as “Sarajevo Roses.”

This “rose” was located at the Tunel Spasa.

On Thursday, I went to see the exhibition on the genocidal massacre that occurred at Srebrenica. If you’re not familiar, Srebrenica is a tiny town in eastern Bosnia. After the UN declared Srebrenica a “safe zone,” tens of thousands of Bosnian Muslims fleeing the violence in the eastern territories descended on the town. Despite the UN declaration, Republic of Srpska forces kept shelling Srebrenica from the hills and advanced to claim the city, causing these tens of thousands of people to flock to the UN base established just outside Srebrenica. The tiny UN contingent there, powerless to stop the Republic of Srpska forces, allowed the Republic of Srpska troops to take custody of the refugees under the auspice that they would be bussed out of the city. Most of the men and older boys had fled on foot trying to reach Tuzla, which was in the free territory of Bosnia, believing this path to be safer than handing themselves over to the Serbs. The Republic of Srpska forces separated the men and boys who remained at Srebrenica from the women and bussed the women and children out of Srebrenica (presumably to free Bosnia), raping, torturing, and killing many of them along the way. The men they bussed to other locations and killed outright. The men fleeing to Tuzla were shelled, captured, and executed. If I remember correctly, of the 15,000 men and boys who set out for Tuzla from Srebrenica, only 6,000 arrived. The official death toll from the Srebrenica massacre is 8,373, mostly men and boys. In a video about Srebrenica, they actually showed footage Serb soldiers filmed of themselves executing men with their hands tied behind their backs, shooting them in the back – they would shoot, one would fall, another would step up, they would shoot again… It was disgusting. Some of the scenes from the video shown in the Srebenica exhibit can be found in this CNN piece, which stops just short of showing the actual executions themselves. If you want to see the full footage of the executions, you can see them here starting from 00:19 – 00:40.

The exhibit also included a video on the siege of Sarajevo. The damage to Sarajevo was unbelievable to me – I didn’t realize how extensive it had been. Burned out husks of tram cars sat all along the river and holes in buildings from the shelling were used as passageways. There was the infamous “sniper alley”… The whole thing was incredibly emotional and disturbing.

When I walked out of the exhibit, which was located right next to the Sacred Heart church in the middle of old town, I noticed damage on the church that was obviously from the war. I started to tear up. I suddenly saw the city in the middle of war, imagined all these people risking their lives just by being on the streets, running from the shelling. I started to see the war damage everywhere – it was everywhere, on so many buildings. I walked by the memorial to the children killed during the siege and by a “Sarajevo Rose” just few feet further down.

War-damaged building in the Old City, typical of the damage found everywhere in Sarajevo. I didn’t see any completely destroyed buildings – I imagine those have all been rebuilt by now.

I found the juxtaposition of beautiful, modern buildings against old, war-damaged buildings interesting. Perhaps the white building on the left replaced one that had been destroyed by shelling.

This is the art museum. This is one of the first major sites I saw coming out of the Srebrenica exhibit – notice all the war damage on the facade.

Memorial to the children of Sarajevo who died during the war.

This “rose” was located just a few feet from the Children’s memorial.

This shot was taken just outside of the old city. Parliament is behind me and to my right. More juxtaposition of war damage against modern – or ultra-modern, in this case – construction.

And all of this happened just 20-24 years ago. The vast majority of the Bosnian population in the former war zone are living with memories of war – of losing loved ones, of hunger and lack, of literally risking one’s life to get water and food each day.

That said, it’s been 20 years since the war and progress in Sarajevo really has been immense. Money seems to have poured in from all over the world to help the city rebuild – there are plaques all over the place thanking this or that country for their donations to the rebuilding effort. As much as I talk about the war damage I see here, the reality is that the only damage left is cosmetic. Any buildings that were destroyed or unsafe have been rebuilt or replaced. There might be a few left, but you’d really have to look for them. I saw some pretty damaged buildings by the river just beyond the west edge of the old city, but that was the extent of it. The story doesn’t end with the war. Life goes on. People rebuild.

Aside from the war’s recency and my work in supporting the peace-keeping efforts that followed, the great former love of my life is from Sarajevo. Yes, I know that’s a very dramatic way to describe our relationship, but that’s how I feel about him. His family left Bosnia a few years before the war, before there was a even a threat of war, when he was a teen. While he avoided the direct horrors of the war, his “lucky” fate brought a different kind of war suffering. I thought about the connection to him briefly when I considered coming to Sarajevo, but I had no idea how prevalent he would be in my thoughts while here. Many things in Sarajevo remind me of him – he shares a name with my AirBnB host’s father, his brother shares a name with my host’s husband, my host was about the same age during the war as his son is now, and I see him – his countenance, his way of carrying himself – in many of the men here. As I was learning about and trying to imagine the experiences of the war in my head, I imagined alternative fates he might have faced had he stayed in Sarajevo.

All of this has been swirling around in my head, and I have spent my days in Sarajevo just trying to understand my thoughts and the jumble of unexpected emotions. I have loved every minute I’ve spent in this city, but I’ve been at a loss for what to write about it.

Now that I’ve shared with you what was most meaningful for me about being Sarajevo, I’ll hit the highlights of how I spent my time and show you lots of pretty pictures.

I spent a lot of time with my AirBnB host, Belma, who was amazing. She offers her guests tours around Sarajevo and the surrounding areas, for a fee, and I was glad to take her up on the offer. It was nice to walk around the city with someone who’s lived there nearly her whole life, and who was in the city throughout the siege. Wednesday, she took me around and showed me some of the must-see sights in the city.

IMG_5177 (2) — We met at the Sebilj, the famous public water fountain built in 1753. We didn’t meet before the sun rose, I just didn’t bother taking a daytime picture due the construction at the fountain and surrounding square at the time.

Gazi Husrev-bey Mosque, built in the 16th century. Belma’s husband’s uncle made that wooden gazebo. Under the gazebo is a public fountain whose water is drinkable, but which is primarily intended for ritual bathing before prayers (abdest). Only men would bathe here; women have an indoor bath as the bathing entails washing the head as well, requiring women to remove their hijabs.

Men’s indoor bath at Gazi Husrev-bey Mosque. The women have a similar one, but much smaller. I asked Belma why and she said it’s because men are obligated to go to mosque to pray, whereas women are not, thus you find fewer women at the mosques than men.

IMG_4961 (3) — The beautiful Old Synagogue, now the home of the Sarajevo Jewish Museum, was built in the 16th century on a donation from a Turk. In tragic irony, the synagogue was used as a prison for Jews during WWII.

Inside the Old Synagogue, which has 3 floors.

This is a type of gravestone found in the Jewish cemetery in Sarajevo. The shape of the rock – wider in front and narrower in the back – is meant to symbolize a lion.

The Sacred Heart Cathedral, build in the late 19th century. When I went to the Sarajevo Museum, they had pictures there of Austro-Hungarian emperor Franz Joseph visiting this church and the Gazi Husrev-bey mosque, which was pretty neat since I’d just been to these places myself.

The Markale Market, where two brutal massacres took place during the war, killing over 100 people and injuring over 200 between the two attacks.

Memorial to those killed in the Markala attacks, situated at the back of the market.

Really cool beans I’ve never seen before at the Markale market.

The plaque on the left marks the spot where Gavrilo Princip shot Archduke Ferdinand and his wife, Sophie, on June 28, 1914, thus sparking WWI. On the right is the famous Latin bridge where the two were shot.

Another view of the Latin bridge and the corner, across the street, from where Gavrilo Princip took his shots.

The City Hall built during the Austro-Hungarian empire, later turned into a National Library. This building was completely destroyed during the war and all the books and papers inside it burned up. Its reconstruction was just completed last year. This, by the way, is the City Hall of the Inat Kuća story, which you will read about below, so remember it.

Entering into the National Library. Belma tells me it looks exactly as it did before the war. It is a stunning building. I didn’t find any books in it, though.

IMG_4891 (2) — That little white house in the center of the picture just across the river is the Inat Kuća, as viewed from the second floor of the National Library.

This is the Serb Orthodox Seminary. Zoom in on the wing on the righ side of the picture to see the battle scars from the war.

IMG_5074 (2) — This is the Islamic theology school.

We finished our day at Žuta Tabija, the Yellow Fortress, which was once a fortress during Ottoman rule for protecting the city, but which now is just a terrace on a hill overlooking the city and offering amazing views.

This is about a 270 degree view of the city from the Yellow Fortress terrace.

IMG_5106 (2) — Evening view from the Yellow Fortress.

IMG_5145 (2) — Nighttime view from the Yellow Fortress.

The best thing about Belma was how open she was to share her stories of the war. She was a child, 8-11 years old, during the siege. She told me about the games children would make up then to occupy themselves since there weren’t any toys to be had – collecting expended shells from the streets, competing with other kids to find the biggest shells, and yelling into the hills daring the “chetniks” to try to hit them. Her father was a soldier for Bosnia, then, and they went months without knowing whether he was even still alive (likewise for him, I suppose) until he eventually returned to Sarajevo, somehow evading the blockade to get back to his family. Her father lost both his brother and his father in the war. Belma turned me on to the Srebrenica exhibit I described above.

Thursday was a solo day spent walking the city to see some of the sights Belma and I hadn’t had time to visit. I’ve already written about most of what I did on Thursday and shared the pics above, but here’s a bit more:

Inside the Serbian Orthodox Cathedral. They actually let me take pictures. There’s no seats because Orthodox Christians stand during services. If you’ve never seen an iconostasis before, it’s that golden wall full of icons – religious paintings.

This is the old Serbian Orthodox church, built in the 16th century (during Ottoman rule?). The church still functions, and it’s got a unique beauty as it’s extremely old, but I couldn’t get any pictures of the inside.

I didn’t find much of a street art scene in Sarajevo, but I did find some elaborate graffiti. There’s A LOT of graffiti in Sarajevo.

I had dinner at a place called Inat Kuća, or Spite House, so named for the story of its continuing existence. As the story goes, the Austro-Hungarian empire wanted to build the new City Hall (see pictures above – now the National Library) on the property where this house was located. The owner refused to give up his house or his land, finally relenting on the condition that the house be moved exactly as it was to the other side of the river. For reasons completely unknown to me, the empire relented and moved the house, which is now a restaurant serving traditional Bosnian cuisine. According to the history told in the restaurant’s menu, the house symbolizes the “stubbornness of Bosnian man.”

Friday, I woke up early and walked over to Bijela Tabija, White Fortress, which is further east than Žuta Tabija and which also offers lovely views of the city.

One of the towers of the old Vratnik fort, constructed from the 18th to 19th century. Vratnik is a neighborhood of Sarajevo in the hills on the east end of the valley and is the original location of ancient Sarajevo. I snapped this pic on my early morning trek out to the White Fortress.

The ruins of the White Fortress, constructed in the 15th century.

Morning view from the White Fortress (about 270 degrees).

IMG_5308 (2) — This is another tower of the old Vratnik fort. You can see the wall that stretches to another tower across the way. This view is facing in an easterly direction and the tower in the earlier picture lies still further to the east beyond these two.

IMG_5310 (2) — The lattice-work on the lower half of these windows comes from the Muslim tradition of blocking the view of the women’s quarters in the house from the outside. Today, this is simply considered traditional Bosnian style.

I ate breakfast up there then walked back to the apartment to meet Belma, who was taking me on an excursion to the western edge of the city and beyond.

We started at Vrelo Bosne, a large, beautiful park boasting the source of the river Bosna.

Walking down the Great Alley of Ilidža. The 3.3km stretch of mostly pedestrian and horse-drawn carriage traffic takes you by many lovely, expensive houses on the route to Vrelo Bosne park, the park that is home to the source of the Bosna river.

The source of the Bosna river. That hole on the right is where the Bosna river springs forth from Mt. Igman. Belma tells me it gushes madly in Spring and Summer, but it’s pretty tame come October.

We decided to take the horse carriage back. Notice the lamps stretched across overhead? I imagine this walk is beautiful at night.

From there, we went to the Tunel Spasa – Tunnel of Life – which was built in 1993 running under the Sarajevo airport and which was the only source for getting food and other goods into the city during the siege. Belma told me that during the siege, a pack of cigarettes cost 100 convertible marks, which would be just over $50 today and was probably a lot more back then. The convertible mark is the Bosnian currency, and it’s symbol is BAM, which I love.

The actual entrance to the actual tunnel.

A small stretch of tunnel is still open for people to visit and walk through. Those rails on the floor are actually functional rails. They could roll goods through the tunnel on these, as well as people in wheelchairs and high-ranking officials, such as the President of Bosnia after he was released from his captivity by the Serbs.

Me in the tunnel. The tunnel was actually short, requiring even me to hunch over quite a bit to walk through it. The original tunnel was 800 meters long – that’s a long way to walk hunched over at nearly 90 degrees.

Unexploded (?) ordinance at the Tunel Spasa museum. I assume this is real and not just a prop. You can see how the “rose” forms from the shell damage.

Homemade handguns on display at the Tunnel museum. Created by a mechanical engineer in Sarajevo during the siege.

The story of the tunnel is really amazing. They began building it from both sides intending to dig straight and meet in the middle, but they didn’t meet in the middle – they were off a bit. As such, they inadvertently created an S-curve in the tunnel to join the two sides. This S-curve is responsible for the tunnel not collapsing under the weight of the airport runway above it, which is exactly what would have happened had the tunnel been built straight, as planned. It’s also the reason UN peace-keepers – digging to determine whether the Bosnians were in fact building a tunnel that would damage the structural integrity of the airport as the Serbs claimed – failed to hit the tunnel and determined such an undertaking wasn’t possible. I haven’t been able to find a source for that story, but one of the tour guides was telling it while I was there.

After Tunel Spasa, we went into the mountains, to the mountains of Igman and Bjelašnica, where some of the Olympic Games were held in 1984. Belma had made us some wonderful herbal tea and brought with her some traditional spinach and cheese pie she had baked the night before, along with some fruit, which we enjoyed up on the mountain.

I had dinner at a traditional Bosnian restaurant in the old city before turning in on my last night in Sarajevo. I had an early train to catch.

TL;DR: An unexpectedly emotional visit to the unprecedentedly beautiful and fascinating Sarajevo.

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