Sarejavo

The road into Sarejavo passed through many tunnels in the cliffside, overlooking a lush green valley punctuated with red clay roofs. Sarejavo is bordered by hills all around and, as we would learn, was once host to the Bosnian Serb army who besieged the city for three and a half years. By chance, the Sarejavo Film Festival was on while we were in town. This festival has a special meaning to the city as its existence was a large part of raising the spirits of the people during the siege, and film reels had to be smuggled into the city through the Sarejavo Tunnel of Life.

We visited the small remaining portion of the tunnel and saw examples of line mines and traps designed to prevent people from escaping the siege. The tunnel, originally some 800 meters long, was not tall enough to stand up in. People had to shoulder loads of water or supplies and walk bent over until they reached the other side. They then had to risk sniper and artillery fire to walk through the city and supply its citizens. The tunnel could also be flooded in chest deep water at times, and many head wounds were caused by low cross beams.

Our local guide Muhamed told us that he lived through the siege as a young boy. His mother worked as a nurse at the hospital, so his grandmother watched over him at home. Due to the frequent bombings, he was not allowed outside, and his education was done in basements by the light of burning shoelaces. One day, fed up with being kept indoors, he slipped some sleeping pills into his grandmothers drink. Once she fell asleep, he crept outside to play. Unfortunately, a shell landed nearby and shrapnel tore into his legs. When he was brought to the hospital, his mother saw him and fainted right away. He still carries large scars on his legs to this day.

For a city that was under siege 20 years ago, it has a remarkable sense of vitality and growth about it. Walking through the modern part of the city, you pass the Eternal Flame, a monument to victims of the Second World War. Not long afterwards, the tall buildings and flat polished streets sharply stop, and cobblestones mark the entry into the older marketplaces of the city. Church and mosque spires peek above single story buildings, and a dazzling array of merchandise lies down these streets, such as scarfs with splashes of vivid color and gleaming Bosnian coffee pots. Glamorously dressed people milled near the cinema and walked the streets, and a melting pot of cultures wandered the local markets. I met some Turkish girls who were more than happy to pose for a photo, but insisted that I let them take a “selfie” of us with their phones too. We saw the place where Franz Ferdinand was assassinated, sparking off the First World War. Off the main streets, packs of stray dogs roamed around at will. While friendly for the most part, I did see one large dog march aggressively at a tourist until they had to back away and try another route.

I tried some Bosnian coffee, alongside a custard square and a turkish delight. Bosnian coffee is where the ground coffee is boiled in a pot and left there, so careful pouring is required to not get a gritty coffee. For lunch I had a delicious Gholuash made with wine and mushrooms, and declared it the best meal in the Balkans so far. That night, after some beers out in the local pub, a group of us headed home. One of the bridges, Lord Somersby Bridge, had a large tent set up above it, so we investigated. Somersby, a large cider company whose product I had been enjoying since the start of the trip, was sponsoring a party to do with the film festival. People wandered the bridge dressed in glamorous 30s (I think) makeup and clothing. While it was a ticketed V.I.P. event, we somehow managed to bluff our way in and even got some free ciders out of it!

I really loved Sarejavo, as the vibrant spirit of the city which persevered despite the atrocities the city suffered was really evident in the buildings, people and stories.