Sixty-eight years ago on today's day, May 9th, Hitler capitulated and the day became a national holiday in then emerging sovereign federation of Yugoslavia. In today's dissected region of the Balkans, it is still celebrated, even in the Republic of Srpska, which is the creation of the most recent war in Bosnia and Herzegovina. Segregation within the country is more than obvious and omnipresent as different people reside in the cities while the old inhabitants were sometimes forcefully, sometimes voluntarily urged to leave their homes. I can't help but detect the irony in it all as this socialist holiday still carries some symbolic weight. The intent during and after the 90's civil war was to eradicate anything that had any association with then communist Yugoslavia. Nationalism and arrogant patriotism swept the region on all three sides. Well, my region was affected by ardent Serb ethnocentricity which had undermined any other ethnic group. It still prevails until this day.
The importance of history and our ties to the land are deeply engraved in our genetic code, particularly here. Today, I felt it on this symbolic day quite strongly. Maybe, because it was a reminiscent day filled with a ride through my hometown. We visited graveyards where my family members were buried, who lived back in the 19th century. I could not help but think that this really is my land and that my relatives owned it, helped it grow, and left a legacy that is described in the books written by local writers. All of my family names, from both of the sides of family are mentioned quite frequently. Somehow, I understood more clearly how important it is to be remembered and how significant it is to all of us to continue talking about our relatives' impact; well at least those who spent their lives here. I am a part of some new generation that left and grew up in foreign countries but I still felt a deep connection and sense of belonging.
After an emotional visit to the graves of few generations of my relatives, which my Mom hasn't seen since we left, we continued moving towards a "Bosniak (Muslim)" part of town." Here in this area which has generally been predominately Muslim, we stopped at a famous restaurant called "Slap". (in English cascade or waterfall). The restaurant was build in 1955 and since then it has been an idyllic place to sit next to the amazingly beautiful river that our town takes pride in. The sounds of fast water and the images of gorgeous greenery, make it one of the most memorable places in the world. I may be swayed, but I have never seen my city as beautiful as it was today from the elevated suburbs surrounding it. Maybe it was the company, or the conversation we were carrying over some traditional Bosnian food or just all of the above but it was almost magical. Touching the water, smelling all the scents and embracing the sounds of the nature, allowed me to appreciate where I hail from. A city, which dates back to the Roman Empire, affected by catastrophes, both natural and man made, still stands as alluring as ever. For a moment I thought, I could spend my three month adventure here without going anywhere. (Of course, I am going to other places, but I just wanted to add the effect and true feeling I had).
Since I am here with my grandma who is the oldest family member, I hear a lot of useful commentaries and stories about every single small and big place. America seemed so distant and foreign to me today. Almost too big to appreciate life of a single person in such a detail as it is being preserved here through memories, stories and places. Even the grass is greener here. When we were riding in the bus yesterday from Croatia to Bosnia, my grandma told me a story when her sister first moved to Switzerland in the 70's. We were admiring the scenery and saw some animals and I pointed out how I finally see a normal cow. In the states, cows look different. This comment led my grandma to tell me how her sister used to write to her saying that she is nostalgic and wants to come back to Bosnia. She mentioned how "cows do not look the same and there is no one to look after them". I guess, there is no place like home.
However, the reality is quite different. Fascism was defeated so many years ago but I think a new type of fascism has taken over our amazing land. Nationalistic signs and flags are seen everywhere. There are more religious objects that no one really visits then schools; on all three sides. Decaying properties and failed businesses are seen everywhere. Lack of urban mentality has disappeared with all of us that left. We took away only real progressed culture present and left some new people that came from rural areas to take over our cities. The legacy of my family is slowly fading away because we are not here to continue it.
Yet, this trip made me hopeful. Maybe some day, I will be able to come back after another 20 years to see that hindrance has been defeated and that people will integrate and live in harmony and togetherness like we used to. I believe that this a segregation between rural and urban layer of people rather than just ethnic or religious. After all we are all the same people, not just here but everywhere else. I am reassured that I will be proud of the Balkans, once again.
The importance of history and our ties to the land are deeply engraved in our genetic code, particularly here. Today, I felt it on this symbolic day quite strongly. Maybe, because it was a reminiscent day filled with a ride through my hometown. We visited graveyards where my family members were buried, who lived back in the 19th century. I could not help but think that this really is my land and that my relatives owned it, helped it grow, and left a legacy that is described in the books written by local writers. All of my family names, from both of the sides of family are mentioned quite frequently. Somehow, I understood more clearly how important it is to be remembered and how significant it is to all of us to continue talking about our relatives' impact; well at least those who spent their lives here. I am a part of some new generation that left and grew up in foreign countries but I still felt a deep connection and sense of belonging.
After an emotional visit to the graves of few generations of my relatives, which my Mom hasn't seen since we left, we continued moving towards a "Bosniak (Muslim)" part of town." Here in this area which has generally been predominately Muslim, we stopped at a famous restaurant called "Slap". (in English cascade or waterfall). The restaurant was build in 1955 and since then it has been an idyllic place to sit next to the amazingly beautiful river that our town takes pride in. The sounds of fast water and the images of gorgeous greenery, make it one of the most memorable places in the world. I may be swayed, but I have never seen my city as beautiful as it was today from the elevated suburbs surrounding it. Maybe it was the company, or the conversation we were carrying over some traditional Bosnian food or just all of the above but it was almost magical. Touching the water, smelling all the scents and embracing the sounds of the nature, allowed me to appreciate where I hail from. A city, which dates back to the Roman Empire, affected by catastrophes, both natural and man made, still stands as alluring as ever. For a moment I thought, I could spend my three month adventure here without going anywhere. (Of course, I am going to other places, but I just wanted to add the effect and true feeling I had).
Since I am here with my grandma who is the oldest family member, I hear a lot of useful commentaries and stories about every single small and big place. America seemed so distant and foreign to me today. Almost too big to appreciate life of a single person in such a detail as it is being preserved here through memories, stories and places. Even the grass is greener here. When we were riding in the bus yesterday from Croatia to Bosnia, my grandma told me a story when her sister first moved to Switzerland in the 70's. We were admiring the scenery and saw some animals and I pointed out how I finally see a normal cow. In the states, cows look different. This comment led my grandma to tell me how her sister used to write to her saying that she is nostalgic and wants to come back to Bosnia. She mentioned how "cows do not look the same and there is no one to look after them". I guess, there is no place like home.
However, the reality is quite different. Fascism was defeated so many years ago but I think a new type of fascism has taken over our amazing land. Nationalistic signs and flags are seen everywhere. There are more religious objects that no one really visits then schools; on all three sides. Decaying properties and failed businesses are seen everywhere. Lack of urban mentality has disappeared with all of us that left. We took away only real progressed culture present and left some new people that came from rural areas to take over our cities. The legacy of my family is slowly fading away because we are not here to continue it.
Yet, this trip made me hopeful. Maybe some day, I will be able to come back after another 20 years to see that hindrance has been defeated and that people will integrate and live in harmony and togetherness like we used to. I believe that this a segregation between rural and urban layer of people rather than just ethnic or religious. After all we are all the same people, not just here but everywhere else. I am reassured that I will be proud of the Balkans, once again.
feel like im there with you. your emotions shine through your writing-- appreciated the fact that no pics in this post-- although would still love to see them... your blog is interesting AND educational... reminds me the faults of the American educational system...lol
ReplyDeleteBeautiful writing! Are you in DR? Email me your number @ rh724r@gmail.com
ReplyDeleteI thought I was there with you too! Your writing is very genuine and inspiring...there is one thing that most immigrants have in common and that's the longing to return to their home land. Its really great you decided to go on this trip and reconnect with so much rich history and document it. The stories from grandma are priceless! Thanks for continuing to share your journey with us and tie it in with historical facts to help us putting all into perspective. I love to learn about history through the eyes of the experienced : )
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