Day 92 Slightly Serbian, Briefly Bosnian

So I said my goodbyes at Retox, and I waited for the bus at a sketchy road sign as instructed. The day was gray, and as I sheltered on a stoop nearby, I saw another backpacker navigating the puddles towards me. Moving over so as not to be stingy with the cover, he took a seat and in his Aussie accent introduced himself as Caedyn. We chatted for the hour it took until departure, and alighting in Belgrade, undertook the walk to our hostels. Luckily they were in the same direction, and luckily his sense of where that was overtook my own flawed senses. I may have a compass tattoo, but as my sister will tell you, I'm incredibly challenged in this respect, it's amazing I've made it so far without getting hopelessly lost (knock on wood)!

The Opera House in Belgrade.

My hostel, Chillton, was again homey and lovely, and I relaxed and settled in after the half hour trek from the station. I've been picking winners lately, and this one was only 5 €! Facebook planning with Caedyn, I arranged to meet up with him and some of his dorm mates at a local traditional restaurant. Luckily the traditional food of Serbia is typically meat, wrapped in meat, with a side of meat, so my allergies weren't going to be a huge hinderance in that respect. After a lovely meal during which I met a German girl, Hannah, we hit the Bohemian area of town for a drink. Calling it a day after the long bus ride, I planned to meet them again the following morning for a free walking tour.

Republican Square at night.

We met at Republican Square, me considerably rumpled from sleeping past the alarm, though still ready to learn about the city. The tour guide, while lovely, was not as good as some I've had, though I picked up a lot more than I had arrived with, which to be fair was practically nothing...

Republican Square is dominated by a large statue of an important Prince on a horse. He liberated the Serbs from the Ottomans, or at least started the process. The sculptor ended up killing himself however, because he portrayed the hero without a helmet, which was traditional garb at the time. The square also houses the National Museum and the Opera House, which holds all manner of artistic performances. it is a third of the size of the one in Vienna, though very closely modelled after it. During the NATO bombings, it was the only operational cultural centre in the city.

The gates at Kalmegdan

She gave us the run down of the language, which is written in cyrillic, a really hard alphabet to read. Most of the street signs were in these letters, which gave us no end of confusion. In an effor to simplify, it was reformed to exclude spelling rules, leaving only one rule: write how it sounds, and read how it's written. I supopse for one who knows the individual sounds this would make sense, but it was no help to us. One of these language reformers was also an erotic poet, and the guide kindly translated a snippet for us. This is not your flowery, romantic prose, and goes more like this: "Hey girl, when I see your boobs, my pants unbutton by themselves." Really moving stuff if you ask me!

We stopped in the Bohemian quarter where we'd found a watering hole the night before, and were given a shot of the national drink, Rakija. It's a sort of plum brandy, which more often than not smacks faintly of paint thinner... but I suppose if you're used to it, it could be a pretty good appertif. Apparently there are twelve words for "shot glass" in Serbian, I guess some countries have their priorities straight. It's like the Inuit have so many words for 'snow'... If it's a big enough part of your daily life, it winds up with a few names. The Bohemian District is raelly cool, all cobblestones and cafanas. These are essentially all-around bars, cafes, restaurants, live music venues, and gathering spots.

View of the Sava River from the Castle Hill.

We ventured next into Silicon Valley, so named for the multitude of doctored up women that show off their wares. It's also a haunt for rich, fancy car owning men, and just generally a place to see and be seen. It's honestly a by-product of the war and of communism - now that they have luxury things, they want everyone to see that they are no longer in need or living in poverty. Back in the day there was insane hyper-inflation, and people's money was literally devalued by the hour. At one point the mint released a bill with eleven zeros on it. At times people would stand in like for two hours to buy necesary foodstuffs, only to find once they'd reached the front of the queue that their money was worthless.

The region still retains many Turkish elements leftover from the centuries of occupation. The food is all kebabs and sarma, which is pork and rice wrapped in dock leaves. I had some for lunch at a recommended cafe and was not disappointed! Served on mashed potatoes, it's not exactly paleo, but I think with a few twakes I could make it work! Belgrade was however originally settled by Celts, who saw it's placement by two rivers and it's possession of a large hill as ideal. The city has been torn down and rebuilt more than fourty times since by many groups, including the Romans, Byzantines, Ottomans, Communists and the present government. In the 6th century, explorers sailing the river saw the local white stones used in it's construction and baptized it the "white city" or Belgrade. We climbed up the citadel, called Kalmegdan and looked over towards the new part of the city and the confluence of the rivers Danube and Sava. The fortress is an architectural jigsaw, having been added to so many times over the centuries. The view is excellent though, and you can see all the boats, many which actually house clubs! Lonely Planet, the popular guidebook, actually named Belgrade the best city for nightlife. Shame I wasn't able to experience it owing to my short stay and the season in which I visited. Our attention was drawn to a blue bridge, which was a prime target in the NATO bombings. To save the connection between new and old Belgrade, the locals flooded the bridge to prevent attacks. To weather the situation with positivity, they turned the gathering into a huge party, and even now in the bridge's base there exists a bar.

Across from the fortree is a very ugly block of business buildings done in the style known as 'brutalism'. This was the favoured style of communist architects, and the largest of these was the headquarters for Tito's Yugoslavian government. At night, when all the lights were extinguished, a select few would be left on to spell out the lifetime president's name. I couldn't tell from our tour whether or not Tito and his policies were well-liked or not, but it seemed to me as if Yugoslavia fared better than the surrounding communist regions of the late 20th century. The tour finished near the national bank, which unfortunately was closed. If anyone goes to Belgrade and it's visiting section is open, you can get your face printed on a one dinar bill for free! It might have been fun to keep a souvenir like that!

A destroyed Serbian building left over from the bombing.

We walked afterwards to the two buildings which were left in ruins as a colossal memorial to the bombings. These are pretty stark, and it's amazing to compare them to the rebuilt city around the area. I think it's a great reminder, as it really demonstrates the extent to which the city was damaged. I need to do so remidial research on why Belgrade was bombed by NATO, as my view of the politics is a little lacking. The guide sadly was not forthcoming on this subject, potentially because there exist still so many opinions on the whole affair. We three, Hannah, Caedyn and I, went down to the bus station to buy my ticket out to Bosnia and Herzegovina, and caught the bus back up to our hostels. I said my goodbyes and relaxed at Chillton until my 10:30 bus was due to leave. I actually managed to have a conversation with my girl Kristy (hi!), an event which is far too uncommon for my liking. It was Sean's birthday, and I was feeling pretty low that I was leaving him to celebrate back home without me, but I was confident that he had enough friends at his disposal to make it bearable!

A cemetary housing those who died
in the recent Bosnian war.

As I caught my bus out of Belgrade, I spotted some tourists who were on the walking tour. We hadn't exchanged words then, but as the bus was fairly full, I made the executive decision to take a seat nearby. Striking up a conversation I discovered they were exchange students at a university in Budapest, just out for a weekend tour of the surrounding area. With the four of us headed to Sarajevo, we banded together for the overnight trip. On top of their offers to come stay if I'm ever in Northern Mexico, I was delighted to accept their suggestion that I accompany them to their hostel upon arrival. I planned to be in the city for less than a day, simply owing to the speed of travel which I need to maintain to see everything. We arrived at 5 am, and took a cheap cab into the Old City, as public transport was not yet operational. I actually understood a lot of what the cab driver said as we drove, pointing out the National Theatre and the bridge upon which WWI was triggered. The multitude of bullet holes still present in the surrounding buildings from the recent seige was pretty harsh though - coming from Canada to a region so beset by conflict is certainly a paradigm shift.

I was lucky. They had booked a private room and we all crashed for a few more hours of sleep. An online search had yielded a well-reviewed free walking tour, and we all planned to meet the guide at the appointed hour of 11am. Chilly in the hostel, we took our coats with us out of doors, which turned out to be a welcome mistake. The weather was gorgeous! This was a lovely surprise from the cold temperatures in Budapest, and I happily toted my jacket around on my purse for the three hour tour. Our guide's name was Neno, a local who had loved, lived and studied Sarajevo almost his whole life. He does these tours even if only one person registered, but I was glad to have allies. It was a small enough group with the four of us that we got to ask a ton of questions (ok... I did...), but big enough so that it wasn't awkward.

He spoke SUPER fast, and I was worried that my Mexican friends would miss something, even though their english was excellent. I really love Sarajevo, even after just a day there - it's so colourful, has such interesting history, and I have a personal connection with it as well. During the '84 Olympics, two Canadian athletes met and later married: my Mom and Dad. The city possesses a resilience as well, actively trying to recover from the devastating effects of the war, though the unemployment rate remains at a disparaging 43%. Neno gave us a quick, but very thorough history lesson, complete with maps! I think I learned more in those 15 minutes than in the whole of the Belgrade tour. I guess it never changes -  in every learning environment there's almost nothing that matters more than your impression of the instructor. He showed us the territories from each period, through the Ottomans to the Austro-Hungarians and into the former Yugoslavia.

The city was founded by the Ottomans, who remained for 4 centuries before Hapsburg occupation. The name is Turkish, derived from a phrase which means "plains around the castle". The castle doesn't exist anymore, but in the 40 years they ruled, the Austro-Hungarians built some pretty fabulous structures of their own. That's always the way though: establish your control through extensive construction and a large visible presence. The short occupation is due to the assassination of Franz Ferdinand and his wife Sofia were killed, a catalyst for the first World War, which ended with the dissolution of the once-powerful empire. Replacing foreign rule was a first Yugoslavian kingdom, which only lasted until the outbreak of WWII in '41. During this war, Bosnia and a lot of the region was occupied once more by Hitler's troops. This occupation prompted a Tito's rise to power, and in '45 his pan-Slavic army marched into the city and took back control. He established a second Yugoslavia under communist ideals, an arrangment that seems to have worked pretty well for a long time, until Tito's death in 1980. The resulting power struggle and emerging nationalism tore the region apart.

Bosnia and Herzegovina proved the most volatile due to its ethnic makeup. Serbs, Bosnians and Croats all residing within the borders. Although Croatia and Slovenia had developed autonomous states already, factions within the country wished to remain attached to the former state, and others looked for independence. In a referendum, Bosnia and Herzegovina voted to separate, and though this decision was validated on an international level, many of the Serbian citizens rebelled with violence. A bloody war was fought from '92 to '95, and during this time Sarajevo was besieged. Neno himself lived in a basement while the city was shelled from the hills. The old bobseld track my Dad competed on was used as a base from which to attack - a far cry from it's original use. Finally in 1995 the Dayton Agreement was signed and international pressure brought peace to bear on the region. The complicated ethnic situation gave rise to an unique and equally complicated political structure, which persists today. There are 3 parliaments, one for each Serbs, Bosnians and Croats, as well as a centralized government. Various areas of life are divided up in jurisdiction, and in a country of 4 million there are more than 80 registered political parties. The ethnic division of the state brought about the consequence of religious division as well. There is an area in Sarajevo in which exits a mosque, a cathedral, a synagogue and an orthodox church within a 100 meter radius, prompting some to dub the city a "mini-Jerusalem".

Neno spoke hopefully of a day when a party will emerge and be supported that seeks to embolden the nation economically and avoid ganing support from an ethnic platform. Even now the country is separated into two parts, one of which is a Rebublisky Serbsky, which operates with a degree of autonomy. The consequence of this is to spawn two history books, two health care systems and various other redundancies which serve to perpetuate the divide.

The controversial bridge and the arts faculty in behind.

The war on this country left its mark. One of the main targets was the central post office, orignally a building of grandeur from Austro-Hungarian times. Now restored, the interior contains photos of the utter devastation it experienced. To replace this vital service, the armies on both sides employed the missives of the Red Cross, an organization sworn to remain neutral. Neno even had an original message form to show us. As I said, many buildings were erected by the Hapsburgs upon assuming control. This means that the city's architectural styles are very diverse, and history is literally visible all around. A new addition is a very modern bridge designed by students at the arts faculty of the university, which is the 23rd to span the Miljacka river. A large loop in the middle gives it its distinction, though it is not only it's style which created controversy. In a country beset by economic troubles, there are many who claim the huge price tag was unwarranted. Though I like the look of it, it does make me question the spending protocols in place. The name of the bridge is "Hurry Up and Slow Down".

The infamous Yugo!

We came next to a very old car, the Yugo. It was produced by Tito's government and exported both East and West, a fact made possible during the Cold War due to Yugoslavia's neutral position. It was however deemed an extremely poor automotive, and jokes abounded on it's condition. One such is that is came standard with a bus timetable, or that you could double its value by filling the tank with petrol. The Yugoslavian flag is still present in souvenir shops and on the memorial to fallen soldiers involved in the city's liberation during WWII. The star featured represents the five groups which must cooperate to acheive a successful communist society: young people, intellectuals, workers in industry, workers in agriculture and the military.

A "Sarajevo Rose".

The monument to child victims of the war.

In addition to the monument dedicated to liberating forces there are more modern memorials for those who died in the recent war. In the streets, where shells landed and killed more than three civilians the government has filled the craters with red, creating more than 100 "Sarajevo roses" for the over 11,000 dead. A fountain was built to those children who perished, and it made out of shell casings and imprinted with the footprints of relatives and loved ones. A small and larger pair of green columns stand in the  middle, depicting a mother shielding her child from the blows, and a register recording the names stands nearby.

the busy market.

We stopped for a short break, and I went to the open air market for some breakfast. People here are incredibly nice, and I was gifted an apple by one man and a banana by a local woman. It reminded me of the generosity of people in Turkey, and although there was so much taken from the population they are still hositible in the largest sense of the word. This market used to sell pinched rations from international relief efforts at massively inflated prices. Neno remembered the terrible quality of the food donated, and how scarce sweets were. He used to place a small amount of sugar in his pocket and lick it off his fingers through the day. Even now he's never without a few packets. It's small things like this that remind me that there are certain things that will affect people forever.

A view of the Latin Bridge.

An inscription commemorating the assassination.

We came to the famous Latin Bridge, and were given the full story of Franz Ferdinand's assassination by the Black Hand group. In an attempt to further its goal of a united Serbian state, they had organized to kill the Austro-Hungarian heir and reclaim parts of Bosnia which were inhabited by ethnically Serbian people. The procession along the river saw the Prince and his wife in an open topped car, the better to greet their subjects from. A total of eight men were stationed along the route as failsafes to the task. The initial attack was a lobbed grenade, which missed the car and caused civilian damage instead. The driver, reacting quickly, raced along the promenade to City Hall, where a meeting was planned. No one had time to rectify the first assassin's failure in light of this quick evasive action, and it seemed as if the Prince was out of danger. The police rounded up all but one, though the initial member ingested a cyanide pill and threw himself into the river. Unluckily for him however, the pill was old and the river was shallow, leaving him in the custody of a very pissed off police force. Assured of his safety and the culprits' incarceration, Franz Ferdinand emerged after his meeting and went with his wife (in the same open car) to visit those injured in the attempt on his life. The same quick-thinking driver was apparently not so good with direction however, and a wrong turn resulted in a slow turn-around. The final assassin, Gavrilo Princip, could not believe his luck when the Crown Prince's car came to an almost standstill right in front of him, and the rest is history. Being under 20, both he and the first member of the Black Hand were imprisoned for 20 years under Austo-Hungarian law, while the others were hung. He lasted only 4 though, thanks to a bout of consumption, but the damage was done. The fuse ignited, and the slow burning resentment of those under the Hapsburgs gave rise to a flame that engulfed the whole world.

Monica, Margherita and Alan, three of the many amazing people I've been lucky to meet.

Fake purses for sale in the market.

Turkish coffee all set up.

We finished out tour in the Ottoman section of the city. There is still so much left from these times, and the wares for sale are extremely reminiscent of Turkey. The stray cats everywhere especially made me think of Istanbul. I wish I had more time and money to browse and buy! As it was I got a few souvenirs, and some mementos for my parents who competed in the city. My friends and I got Turkish coffee in an old inn, their first time and a nice throwback for me. Shortly after, in anticipation of the bus to Mostar I snapped up my pack from the hostel and caught the tram. I've been so lucky this whole trip to meet such interesting and open people, it's really made the trip for me. I was very nearly late for the bus, and made it in the nick of time.

Apparently drinking from this fountain will cause you
 to one day return to the city! Guess I'm going back!

A ravaged building in Mostar.

one of the mosques in Mostar.

On the Stari Most

In Mostar I had no accomodation planned, and hurriedly dug out a business card given to me way back in Kenya by my friend Katrina. Hostel Nina was definitely a good choice, as they provide pick up from the bus station. The main hostel was full owing to renovations, but I was put up in an apartment not far away, receiving my own private room for the same price as a dorm! The lovely woman who picked me up told me some of the city's history on the drive, showing me ruined buildings as we went. The town lay between the Croatian army and the Serbian forces, and so much of it was damaged, including the famous bridge, which has since been rebuilt. The factory which provided the town with much of its industry was destroyed, and to this day many live solely off the revenue of tourism. It is chilling to see newly fixed and fronted places juxtaposed with the bombed out shells of a former time. The lovely older lady actually thanked me for taking the time to visit Bosnia and Mostar, as it really is the difference between survival and hunger for some.

The apartment looked creepy as hell, and as I entered the only other couple staying there was hazily visible through the frosted glass of their door. I tried to ignore the fact that they were, ahem, engaged, and quickly ducked into my own room. I visited a local bar for a night cap, but called it an early night and even indulged in a lie in the next morning. In the afternoon though I walked all through the old city, visiting the Stare Most for which the city is famous. Though the day was dreary I saw a lot, and turned in early to cook up and hit the sheets. I have been a little lonlier than I would like in Bosnia, owing to a lack of companions, but I am confident my luck will change and I'll soon find some more like-minded people!

View of the famous Stari Most. An incredible piece of Ottoman architecture.

Well, I think that's a pretty massive addition to the blogosphere! Phew, it took a long time to bang that one out, and I hope it's not too dry with all the history! Off to Croatia now, and then onto Slovenia and Italy, the time draws nearer when I'll meet up with my Aunt and Mom in Greece before rejoining all of you fantastic people on the other side of the Atlantic!

Lots of love and good vibes from over here!