Tuesday May 12
It was very poignant and I felt helpless. Let me explain. After an interesting and "blind" ride through Bosnia to Mostar we arrived at and stayed at a wonderful B&B, the Shangri La. It is a gorgeously restored Austrian Hungarian (that empire ruled Bosnia for about 40 years until the end of WWI and they did a lot of building of both structures and infrastructure, and much of what we have seen in Bosnia dates from that period) building on a hill (driving up to it required ascending a steep and narrow passage way. We saw a delivery truck decline to do it, but the Twingo managed it without difficulty, albeit in first gear.) Above the Old Town (very quiet because of the distance) and squeezed between war ruins. (In this city, it was the Croats doing the besieging of the Bosnians). It is run by a wonderful young couple, both of whom spoke English very well.
During our visit we had several long discussions with the husband, and he described with evident pain how the ethnic and religious divisions of the residents have been exploited by the leaders of the various communities to the detriment of the people. He described how prior to the war, the various communities lived together and intermarried in peace. Yet, once Yugoslavia began to break up, the leaders stirred up hatred against "others" and most importantly fostered a commitment and identification only to their own community through propaganda. He said that the Serb leaders told their people that the Bosniaks were intent on setting up a fundamentalist Muslim state and the Croats told their people that the Serbs were out to subjugate them, and incredibly gruesome violence (rape camps, mass and indiscriminate slaughter and ethnic cleansing).
No longer did people identify as a Yugoslav, or Bosnian, but as a Croat, Serb, Bosniak or other. He said that in Italy you could be a Catholic, Jew or Secilian, but you still identified as Italian. Starting in 1992, that was not the case in Bosnia. He cited the Bosnian constitutional provision that the rotating presidency could only be held by a Croat, Serb, or Bosniak (a Muslin Bosnian) and thus, he cannot be President since he cannot or will not identify as such in the census. (I never did find out what he is.) He wondered why Europe had permitted the war in Bosnia to go on for over 3 years before intervening, and said that he just wanted to be a citizen of Bosnia.
Leaving Debrovnik earlier in the day we tried to take a back route to Mostar by going through the Serb dominated Republika Srpska (one of the three units in Bosnia). However, after climbing several switchbacks into the cliffs above Dubrovnik, we lost our GPS and I feared that we were hopelessly lost on narrow one-lane roads with trucks periodically coming at us. At the advice of a local Croat who asked where we were going ("Mostar, that's another country!" and implying why would anyone what to go there), we followed him back down the cliffs and took the coastal road north before turning inland into Bosnia. Very cursory immigration inspection going into Bosnia. There were scores of fruit and vegetable stands lining the road in that area because of the abundant agriculture on the coastal delta. We stopped at one of the stands, but had a wild time trying to communicate with the stand's operators. We managed to sample several unknown fruits, dates and some candied items (I was no longer hungry), and then safely settled on a bag of tangerines. very fresh and juicy.
We lost our GPS direction lady soon after leaving Dubrovnik, so we had to use very small maps and road signs. It was an adventure. When we got to Mostar we sailed right past the B&B sign on a one way street. The wife (who looked as if you could drop her into Springfield IL and she would easily pass for an American until she opened her mouth) gave us very detailed directions that required us to drive around town and cross over the river twice, but they worked.
We walked around town and had dinner in a local eatery. A couple of young men were in there and they were passing around a young son with obvious pride. Grilled meat is the favored dish in Bosnia so we sampled two of them. Usual futile effort to get tap water. I ended up with bottled water that tasted no different than the tap water I obtained from the restroom. The baklava was very tasty.
Then we walked to see THE BRIDGE. It was a 400-year old structure that was very striking and a symbol of the Bosniak culture. The Croats bombed it during their seige, claiming that the Bosniaks were using it for military purposes. Of course, there were lots of other bridges that they did not bomb. It was rebuilt with international aid and using the same materials and techniques as when it was originally built.
Returned to a great view of Mostar from the roof of our B&B.
It was very poignant and I felt helpless. Let me explain. After an interesting and "blind" ride through Bosnia to Mostar we arrived at and stayed at a wonderful B&B, the Shangri La. It is a gorgeously restored Austrian Hungarian (that empire ruled Bosnia for about 40 years until the end of WWI and they did a lot of building of both structures and infrastructure, and much of what we have seen in Bosnia dates from that period) building on a hill (driving up to it required ascending a steep and narrow passage way. We saw a delivery truck decline to do it, but the Twingo managed it without difficulty, albeit in first gear.) Above the Old Town (very quiet because of the distance) and squeezed between war ruins. (In this city, it was the Croats doing the besieging of the Bosnians). It is run by a wonderful young couple, both of whom spoke English very well.
During our visit we had several long discussions with the husband, and he described with evident pain how the ethnic and religious divisions of the residents have been exploited by the leaders of the various communities to the detriment of the people. He described how prior to the war, the various communities lived together and intermarried in peace. Yet, once Yugoslavia began to break up, the leaders stirred up hatred against "others" and most importantly fostered a commitment and identification only to their own community through propaganda. He said that the Serb leaders told their people that the Bosniaks were intent on setting up a fundamentalist Muslim state and the Croats told their people that the Serbs were out to subjugate them, and incredibly gruesome violence (rape camps, mass and indiscriminate slaughter and ethnic cleansing).
No longer did people identify as a Yugoslav, or Bosnian, but as a Croat, Serb, Bosniak or other. He said that in Italy you could be a Catholic, Jew or Secilian, but you still identified as Italian. Starting in 1992, that was not the case in Bosnia. He cited the Bosnian constitutional provision that the rotating presidency could only be held by a Croat, Serb, or Bosniak (a Muslin Bosnian) and thus, he cannot be President since he cannot or will not identify as such in the census. (I never did find out what he is.) He wondered why Europe had permitted the war in Bosnia to go on for over 3 years before intervening, and said that he just wanted to be a citizen of Bosnia.
Leaving Debrovnik earlier in the day we tried to take a back route to Mostar by going through the Serb dominated Republika Srpska (one of the three units in Bosnia). However, after climbing several switchbacks into the cliffs above Dubrovnik, we lost our GPS and I feared that we were hopelessly lost on narrow one-lane roads with trucks periodically coming at us. At the advice of a local Croat who asked where we were going ("Mostar, that's another country!" and implying why would anyone what to go there), we followed him back down the cliffs and took the coastal road north before turning inland into Bosnia. Very cursory immigration inspection going into Bosnia. There were scores of fruit and vegetable stands lining the road in that area because of the abundant agriculture on the coastal delta. We stopped at one of the stands, but had a wild time trying to communicate with the stand's operators. We managed to sample several unknown fruits, dates and some candied items (I was no longer hungry), and then safely settled on a bag of tangerines. very fresh and juicy.
We lost our GPS direction lady soon after leaving Dubrovnik, so we had to use very small maps and road signs. It was an adventure. When we got to Mostar we sailed right past the B&B sign on a one way street. The wife (who looked as if you could drop her into Springfield IL and she would easily pass for an American until she opened her mouth) gave us very detailed directions that required us to drive around town and cross over the river twice, but they worked.
We walked around town and had dinner in a local eatery. A couple of young men were in there and they were passing around a young son with obvious pride. Grilled meat is the favored dish in Bosnia so we sampled two of them. Usual futile effort to get tap water. I ended up with bottled water that tasted no different than the tap water I obtained from the restroom. The baklava was very tasty.
Then we walked to see THE BRIDGE. It was a 400-year old structure that was very striking and a symbol of the Bosniak culture. The Croats bombed it during their seige, claiming that the Bosniaks were using it for military purposes. Of course, there were lots of other bridges that they did not bomb. It was rebuilt with international aid and using the same materials and techniques as when it was originally built.
Returned to a great view of Mostar from the roof of our B&B.
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