The weekend before last we went to the museum here about The Siege. It's a small museum, but it makes up for its size in drama. It gives the history of Bosnia and Herzegovina from before Ottoman times. You can see how in previous days there were Bosnian kings and even a Bosnian religion. And how the country has been the object of attack from early times.
Then you enter the room that focuses on life during the war of 1992-1995. There are examples of weapons used by the Bosnian army to defend Sarajevo made out of scrap metal (they had no weapons against the Serbian army, which had all Tito's old weapons). And a model of how a typical family lived during the war: a little room with a makeshift wood stove, a little wagon with jerry cans for hauling water, UN plastic tarps covering bombed-out windows and roof. In the corner is a blanket with toys on it - the family slept in the kitchen because it usually was the safest room in the house. It shows the supplies brought in by the UN - but noted that often the people didn't actually receive them. A can of beef might contain who-knows-what by the time it reached you, for example. There is actually a piece of art outside the museum of a giant can of World Food Aid beef; we can't tell if it is sarcastic or just art. Or both.
There are lots of more traumatic things there too - pictures of an almost empty main market (where a grenade killed a lot of people), a photo of a soldier kicking a body in the street, etc. Things you don't want to know, but can't help but look at.
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| The National Theatre in Sarajevo |
That night we went to the National Theatre to see Carmina Burana. We had never been to the theatre here before, though we had often walked by the lovely building. We had read at the museum that theatre culture is such a part of things here that during the siege there were over 200 concerts held - despite the danger of getting there under sniper fire. (Yes, there was a picture in the museum of the real cellist of Sarajevo.) The opera was wonderful - 200 people on the stage, and a child's choir in the balcony too.
This past weekend we stopped by the theatre in the morning, this time to get tickets to a musical review. (We were hoping for Bosnians singing "Oklahoma.") As we were buying tickets , we saw that there was a small concert called "Voice, Piano and Chocolate" starting in about 5 minutes. We plunked down our 8 KM (about $5) and went in. It was amazing - a basso and a tenor accompanied by a gorgeous young pianist. The concert was in a small lobby, and it was crowded with people of all ages. (And chocolates in little baskets.) I swear the very cute tenor was singing directly to me, though Bill said all the women there were thinking the same thing. But what voices - goosebumps all around.
After which we climbed for half an hour straight up the hill to one of our favorite lunch places, called Kod Bibana. It's on a hillside of apple and cherry trees, and though it is in Sarajevo, you feel as if you are out in the countryside (which, actually, you are - it's a very small city). It's always full of locals, sipping Sarajevsko beer, or rakija, the grappa-like brandy. People always tell us, "You can't walk there, it's too steep." But we figure we need to earn our lunch of polenta drenched in cheese and cream.
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| Orchard at Kod Bibana, with Sarajevo view |
That night, after the musical show, we walked through the Old Town. It was around 11 p.m. and every single table in the hundreds of sidewalk cafes was full. If we had wanted to sit down to have a coffee, we would not have been able to! It was a scene - young women were tottering down the cobblestones in heels 6-7 inches high. They had to cling to a more rational friend, in some cases. And the short skirts - let's just say they were barely there. Young men hung around in clumps, probably scared to death of the young women. Or maybe that's just our take on it!
This Sunday we tromped up and down mountains once again, led by the indomitable Fikret. On all the hikes you see remains of war - hidden cemeteries, hills where once mouflon sheep roamed but are no more.We emerged from this hike with torn hiking pants - they are now at the tailor down the street, and they will be ready either by Wednesday or next year (my language skills are still not there!). We also emerged with wild sage, rosemary and thyme, great bunches to make Mountain Tea, which I am sipping as I write.
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| This must have been before the "boulder hike" up the dry stream bed ... I still look conscious. |
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| Bill at the Bivac - a climber's hut. Rakija apparently helps with the hike down. |
You can't help but marvel at what the people here have been through, especially those of a certain generation. At the theater, I kept looking at women my age or slightly younger and thinking what their lives were like during the war. I can't imagine it from my perspective as a Seattle native growing up on Capitol Hill, where the most difficult thing was perhaps having to walk to school in the rain.
Depressing? Maybe, but after our Days of Culture, we see it more as amazing that their spirit endured. Sounds like a cliche, but it's very real.
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| Yes, that's the "trail" |
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