Qui Transtulit Sustinet

Welcome to Sarajevo

I don’t think that any city I’ve recently visited has a cachet quite like that of Sarajevo’s. But while this is a fascinating and worthwhile place to visit, it is just a city in Europe, not a place on Mars, and while evidence of the Bosnian War exists, it is less dramatic than the fully destroyed buildings of Mostar. I arrived shortly after lunch and quickly explored Sarajevo’s historic Turkish core, filled with shady courtyards, covered bazaars, and numerous 16th c. mosques. While television images of the war broadcasted views of shelled 1970s office-buildings, it became somewhat obscured that Sarajevo, like Mostar, is a city founded by Turks and retains a strong Turkish influence. I’ve been able to refill my water bottle in the fountains that stand in the mosque courtyards and like in Mostar, the air is frequently filled with the sounds of muezzin calling the faithful to prayer – although here in Sarajevo they must compete with the rock music blasting from the cafes and bars that co-occupy the Turkish quarter along with the mosques, madrassas, and innumerable souvenir stalls.



After a few turns along the streets of the mostly touristy Turkish quarter, I continued into the Austro-Hungarian city, constructed to state of the art specifications so that by 1914 Sarajevo was perhaps the most high-tech city in the empire. Sarajevo lives up to its reputation as the Jerusalem of the Balkans, with mosques co-existing with Roman Catholic cathedrals and Serbian Orthodox churches. The city has two synagogues, a Sephardic one dating from the 16th c. and custom built to accommodate Spanish refugees, and an Ashkenazi synagogue from 1901 for Jews following the Austro-Hungarians after Turkey’s 1878 defeat and loss of Bosnia.



The central avenue of the new town, Marsala Tita, is headed by an eternal flame in recognition of Bosnia’s role as a partisan stronghold during WWII. Tito himself spent 30 months during the war holed up in Bosnia’s mountains. Continuing down Tito Avenue and turning onto the riverside airport road, dubbed “sniper alley” during the 1992-1995 siege, I ended at the Holiday Inn, a city landmark and only functioning hotel during the siege, home to journalists, visiting dignitaries, and other rogues and characters. Sometime during all of this I stumbled across the Latin Bridge, the spot where Gavrilo Princip assassinated Archduke Ferdinand and wife Sophie on June 28, 1914, sparking WWI, and the National Library, Sarajevo’s greatest Hapsburg edifice, done in neo-Moorish style and ravaged by fire when a shell struck in April 1992.



The next day, today, is Sarajevo’s full day of sight-seeing. Having oriented myself yesterday, I spent a bit soaking up the unique atmosphere of the Turkish quarter before crossing a bridge to the neighborhood on the far side of the narrow river which is a bit rougher around the edges. I had someone open up the synagogue for me so I could see it, the continued down the block to the 1970s concrete heap that now serves as the parliament of the Federation of Bosnia and Herzegovina, one of the two “Entities” that comprise the Republic of BiH. Along the way I passed a few “Sarajevo Roses,” blotches of red paint on the sidewalk that mark spots where Serb shells killed civilians. They are eerie as they almost look like large splotches of blood. Before recrossing the river I poked around the Skenderija Olympic Center – once the grand city center venue of the 1984 Winter Olympic Games but now a partially abandoned relic from another time. I managed to get in and snap a few pictures of the molding indoor arena where ice-hockey and figure skating competitions were held before getting kicked out by security.



Sarajevo is a strange place in so much that while it appears superficially to be a relatively normal, albeit poor and run-down, city, it is palpably haunted by two significant events, only eight years apart but representing the best and worst moments in the history of the city. The 1984 Winter Olympic Games, the most successful games ever until that point, marked the apex of Sarajevo’s soul – the recognition by the entire world of Sarajevo’s accomplishments in arts, culture, sports, and humanity. The cultural center of Yugoslavia, Sarajevo and its people had the reputation as being lively, humorous, tolerant, and just all-around good people. The warm fuzzy feeling that permeated the ’84 games seemed to convince the world at large of this as well. “Welcome to Sarajevo – Olympic City,” proclaims a sign as the bus entered the city, and while the games are now 23 years and another universe away from the Sarajevo of today, at 2007, it seems as if the residents are hesitant to let the memory of 1984 slip completely into the night, for doing so would leave nothing but the nightmare. For only eight years after Sarajevo’s moment of triumph, this city, ringed by lovely hills and set in a lush valley, would become the epicenter of Europe’s worst conflict since WWII.



The story of the three-year Siege of Sarajevo, when Serb artillery and tanks completely surrounded the city up on the very hills that was once the eye candy of its residents, is presented at the Historical Museum of Bosnia and Herzegovina, housed in an incredibly shabby building in the Novo Sarajevo district – the post-war city that bore the brunt of most of the fighting. The commentary was a bit pretentious and arty for my taste – “Sarajevo was not a victim but a place of human experiment” etc., but the photographs and clippings were able to tell the story far more effectively, although no museum could convey the horror of a city under constant heavy fire for three years.



It was a pretty lengthy walk up to the Olympic Stadium, home of the opening and closing ceremonies and also housing a small, free, museum about the games. It was worthwhile mostly for the extensive video footage of the Olympics available for viewing as well as good views of the city and of the hills. Adjacent to the stadium is a very large cemetery. It was amazingly hot, just like yesterday, so I took a breather to use the internet at a place next door to the American Embassy and then walked to the bus station to buy a ticket for tomorrow to Banja Luka. The night was low-key and I woke up early for the bus. I later climbed a hill for panoramic views of the city – unforgettable.

posted by Andy Schloss @ 7:26 AM