The Blaus - South America and Europe

August 24th - Mostar, Bosnia and Hercegovena

From Split we decided to head inland to avoid the throngs of Italian and other European tourists that vacation in Croatia for the month of August. We took a train inland a couple of hours into what is today Hercegovena, to and old medieval city called Mostar. We arrived in the bus station, and the first thing we noticed were the bullet holes that pockmarked the entire city, like a teenager with acne. The city outside the bus station was run down, and we were thinking we had made a giant mistake coming to Mostar. We again had no place to stay, and with hotels still too expensive, we found another family to stay with in a small apartment that they rent out in their basement. We dropped our bags and went into the old town to get some food.

Walking through the narrow streets on the hill where we were staying, we could see the stains of war. Some buildings were demolished or in ruin. Others were functioning with people living in them, but had giant holes from missles or rockets rendering a level or an apartment unlivable. Pretty much the entire city had spray marks from automatic weapon fire. Life, however, goes on. A few blocks from our place we came into the old town, which is built on both sides of the river with an incredible old bridge that is famous and has made Mostar a tourist destination for over 500 years. The old city itself is truly magical and has been restored since the 90s. It is built along the banks of the river that runs a brilliant cloudy emerald color. There are minarets from old mosques poking up all over the city, and the stone work of most of the buildings is the same as it has been for almost 700 years. The best part is that all of these old structures are now really cool restaraunts that look out on the river, along with some tourist shops selling all kinds of junk from Turkey. It is such a cool looking place, and so unexpected after what the rest of the newer city looked like. We had a great dinner right on the river, eating cevapi and burek, two staples of Bosnian food. This was one of those places that we felt was a gem that we never knew existed, and we felt very lucky to have stumbled upon it.

The next day we set out for the new town because we had to buy a plug adapter so we could recharge our camera and take pictures of the town. Billy decided to wear a yellow shirt he bought in Brazil that has a crescent moon and a star on it, looking very much like the symbol of Islam. Knowing this was a partly Muslim city, we thought it could get a good conversation started with some locals. We were right, but the response was a little different than we expected. We had just been in the new town (where all the Catholic Croats live) and got many strange looks, and people were not very friendly. As we were coming back to the old town we heard a yell from across the street, someone wanted to talk to us, but we did not understand what they were saying. We walked over and asked if they speak English, and Dzenan replied in very good English, "Of course." He told us never to walk to the other side of the city wearing that shirt, or "They will slit your throat."

Dzenan is a muslim who fought in the war in Mostar, but has been living in Palm Desert, CA on political asylum since 1995. He told us about the war, how the Serbs came and began killing Muslims and Croats, and how the Croats also then turned on the Muslims, so the Muslims were defending themselves from both sides. For an entire year they had no access to electricity, very little access to any food or water, and no ammunition for their weapons. They used knifes and sticks (both of which we noticed he still carries on him). His entire family had been killed, except for himself and his mother. People starved to death, others we murdered in hideous ways by Serb secret police missions, others did all they could to survive (including hiding in couches for months). His stories were horrifing. He is a gregarious guy, and is a bit crazy. We think he is invovled in some kind of illegal activity (probably drug dealing) in the States because he had money, and when we asked what he did for work and how he was able to get 4 months off to travel to Mostar on a vacation, he would smile and say, "I was born rich."

We were invited with him and his girlfriend, a Croat named Natasha, and their other friend Allen to drive down to where there is a waterfall and a 1500 foot deep cavern where all the fresh water ran from. We thought it would be fun, so we got in the car, and next thing you know he is blasting ganster rap, driving like a maniac, and pointing out all his "enemies", meaning people he fought against in the war. After a harrowing drive, we got to the cave and had a nice cup of Turkish coffee on the banks of the river, right next to a very holy Muslim place of worship that dated back many centuries, to the Ottoman Empire. On our way back to Mostar after some pizza, he thought that we had gotten a flat tire, so we pulled over. Upon further inspection, the lugnuts on one of his wheels was loose, he thought it to be just another attempt on his life by one of his enemies. We drove past a church that was in ruins, and he bragged about taking part in blowing it up, during the war. They invited us to meet them at a bar later that night, but we decided that our lives were a bit too precious to be hanging out with this guy who thought he had people trying to kill him, so we pulled a no show at the bar, and hoped not to run into them again. It was, however, a very interesting experience talking to him, and I am sure we saw more of Mostar and surrounding areas than most peole do. Now that we are safe and out of his car, we are happy we went with him, but we might not have said that half way through the ordeal.

The other thing about Mostar is that literally about 30% of the town is now occupied by graveyards. They are everywhere. There are Catholic Croat graveyards, separate from the Orthodox Serb graveyards, separate from the Muslim graveyards. We wandered through some of them, and noticed one sad fact, especially in the Muslim graveyards, that almost all of the headstones read xxxx to 1993. Thousands of people were killed there, and many of them were 18-22 years old. Nothing makes you understand war more than seeing the graves, with pictures of the deceased and little sayings in all different languages. Although Mostar was beautiful, and we enjoyed our time there a lot, we got the feeling that the war is not resolved in people's minds, and that people are not all that happy in Bosnia and Hercegovena nowadays.

posted by The Blaus @ 11:36 AM