I love traveling in former Yugoslavia. Many enjoy it for its Dalmatian Coast resorts, its seafood, or its great prices. For me, it’s like turning a history and politics text book inside out, shaking its contents all over the earth, and then playing in it.
While the region is still smarting from the bloody wars of the 1990s, things are changing fast. Much of the war damage scenes I saw two years ago in Mostar (Bosnia) and wrote into our script have been fixed up. Updating my script, I replaced the sad images (and words) with hopeful ones — men in hard hats on scaffolds rebuilding blackened shells of buildings.
Like the Habsburgs and Ottomans, Yugoslavia was the fault line of cultures between east and west. Bosnia was the same fault line within Yugoslavia, and the unfortunate city of Mostar was the fault line within Bosnia. It was an epicenter of ethnic tension. That’s why city parks (which were out of the line of sight of snipers) are now jammed with shiny marble tombstones, mostly dated 1993. Primarily Muslim graves, they have images of the person buried there…a reminder that while the Muslims here came to blows with Christians, they are European Muslims and don’t have the strict limits (regarding alcohol, modest dress, showing images in art, and so on) imposed on many Muslims farther east.
While each evening the tourists clamor to eat down by the river with delightful views of the city’s beloved, pointed, single-arch bridge, I took my business to the Boulevard — the former front line that only now is getting some tentative businesses opening up.
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| As Mostar in Bosnia-Herzegovina rebuilds, this big new church comes with a minaret-shaped spire that seems designed to reach higher than the neighboring minarets. Enlarge photo |
Enjoying a plate of stuffed peppers and a Sarajevsko beer — I thought of Sarajevo, considering the Bosnian capital in the news in 1914, 1993, and today. I talked with a young man who served me. He just opened his bar here on the Muslim side. Immediately across the street stands the new Catholic church, with a minaret-shaped spire that rockets up at least double the height of any minaret in town. (He and I compared stress-related cold sores…mine from finishing up three TV shows covering most of ex-Yugoslavia in 20 days…his from opening up a bar on the former front line.) He said that while bullets are no longer flying, he worries about vandalism from young, hate-filled men across the road. There’s understandably a lot of “Your father killed my father” and vice versa sentiment. He’s been open two months, and so far…no problem.
Eating my meal, I was surrounded by poignant sights and sounds. First a warbly call to prayer echoed across town. Then the church bells tolled determinedly across the street. It was like Turkey and Germany were taking turns knocking on my ears. All the while, a little boy with training wheels on his pint-sized bike pedaled vigorously around and around the newly laid sidewalk by a still-bomb-damaged line of buildings and grass too young to walk on. He went faster and faster with each circle.
The day before, we crossed from the Serbian part of Bosnia into the Croat and Muslim part, filming visual indicators showing that we were crossing a centuries-old cultural divide that was gerrymandered into a border in the 1990s to finagle a fragile peace. Flags flapped proudly from wires strung over the road. Old Serbian kings were stenciled onto abandoned buildings. Ruined castles guarded ghosts of centuries-old threats on strategic mountain passes. On road signs, Cyrillic letters gave way to Latin ones.
Stopping to film one sign at the cusp where cities were indicated in both scripts, Cameron (co-author of our guidebook on this region and a critical part of our filming effort for his passion, knowledge, and contacts here) and I were sitting like Clark Kent’s puppies in our van while big, strong Simon and Karel were out with their fancy camera and tripod, framing up the shot. Suddenly a beat-up truck screeched around the corner and skidded to a halt next to Simon and Karel, raising enough dust to obscure the camera.
An enraged man powered out, slammed his door, and screamed at my crew, thumping his chest so hard he almost got air. As he was threatening our friends, Cameron and I were traumatized, watching from the car. Simon and Karel talked calmly with him while taking the camera and tripod down, then walked back to the car — not knowing if the mad Serb would actually get physical. Thankfully it didn’t come to blows.
We learned afterward that the media has been angering Bosnia’s Serbian community lately with its 60-Minutes-type coverage of sensitive issues, and apparently this brute just had it out for anyone with a big camera.
While we’ve met generally gentle and thoughtful people in all communities here, I can also see the potential for more of the sectarian tumult that made the 1990s so horrific. There’s a certain strata of society here in each ethnic community, and when you see them, you just have to think “for war…just add bullets and agitate.”
I’ll see a café filled with skinhead bodybuilders who make me think brains and brawn are a zero-sum game. Some are built like big tubes, with muscles that seem to squeeze their heads really small. They live in poverty, amidst broken concrete and angry graffiti with little but unemployment in their futures.
And then, you get out of the backcountry, and the energy and focus are much different. On Montenegro’s coast, people are still talking about the recent concerts featuring Madonna and the Rolling Stones. Both visited Montenegro (with local government sponsorship to help put that homely little country of 700,000 on the map) and sold out (30,000 tickets at $50 each — lots of gross for a small, poor country).
The Stones learned native words, referring to the country by its local name (Crna Gora), wishing all a dober dan (good day), and so on. They thrilled the euphoric crowd with a robust encore set. Madonna, on the other hand, didn’t relate to anything local, never talked to the people, and ignored their pleas for an encore. Friends who went to the concert recalled that she was in her helicopter, lifting up over the stadium on her way out of the country three minutes after singing the last verse of her last song.
Rick, your blogs helped decide my visit to the dalmatian coast. This fall takes me to greece and turkey. By adding an extra 10 days travel, macedonia and its near neighbors, fill in a first quick introduction. Thanks again for the advice, as it will be 15 years this fall since your books, OPB shows and travel talks directed me to europe the first time. Travel just gets better. Larry from springfield.
Let’s hear it for Mick & Co! Oldies but goodies.
An enraged man powered out, slammed his door, and screamed at my crew, thumping his chest so hard he almost got air. Does that same guy live in every Serb village in the former Yugoslavia? I’ve seen the same thing in Bosnia and Kosovo… and in the movie, “Pretty Village, Pretty Flame”.
I’ve only seen a few of your episodes but my father is an avid viewer. I’m just curious, why haven’t you gone to Russia yet? I studied last summer in St. Petersburg and it was amazing. That is the kind of city that would fit perfect with your show. You could also travel north into the Karelya region and visit some of the villages and cities throughout the islands on the White Sea, such as Solovki, Kizhi and Petrazavodsk. It would also benefit many Americans and show them how Russia has developed and become much more accepting of Westerners and Western culture. Feel free to send an email. Thank you.
I agree that in many places there seems to be a concentration of quite different views. I say different rather than extremist, because they are not extreme to them and to call them extreme only polarizes the situation. In the Karnten region of Austria, and even south into Slovenia, I am always surprised at how alive a loyalty to the Hitler years is. This includes a skepticism as to the extent of the holocaust. They seem to have quite a bit of “experienced” knowledge on the subject and so I have learned not to impose my “learned” information. I was struck by Obama’s insistence that people just stop with the denials, etc. and wondered if he realized that by giving these people attention, you also give their views and movements life. Of course people who have different memories or indoctrination are not going to be dissuaded by force. I think it would be far healthier to allow difficult conversations…and when discovered to have no merit, they will die out naturally.
I don’t think brawns and brains is a zero sum game at all. In fact, some studies have shown that exercise improves blood flow, including flow to the brain, improving thinking, perception and awareness. Sound mind, sound body, and all that kind of thing. Bodybuilding, like most other athletic pursuits, is one that requires discipline, dedication and thoughtfulness. While there are poor representatives in all classes and activities, the stereotype of the lunkhead, brain dead bodybuilder is just that… a stereotype. I brawn and brains were zero sum, the obese would be the wisest of us all. Not really related, honestly. Stereotyping helps no one, I think.
Interesting how a Serb in Mostar (Serbs constitute 1% of the population in that part of Bosnia) had the gall to chastise a neutral TV crew. Hope there is everlasting peace in Bosnia. Did you get a chance to go to Srebrenica, Rick? I heard Bosniak refugees who returned there after the genocide still get abused in that region, which is of Serbian majority.
I don’t know why I just can’t get interested in that part of the world, I hope you come out with some RS shows on this area. It just seems so depressed. I hope to see some shows that might change my mind.
As I read Rick Steves’ comments and the comments of those who respond to them, I sometimes wonder about the motivations of those who respond – and even about those who simply travel for pleasure. Is it partly about, hey ! , look where I’ve been? How much about travel is partially or even totally about snobbery and one upsmanship? I guess we could also ask the same question about those who drive a fancy car or live in a big house or give millions to charity? Just what is the driving force behind travel and writing about it – ego, affiliation, curiosity, restlessness, boredom, excess money? Not too many months ago a New York Times columnist wrote a column about this and received a record more than 400 comments from readers. They were all over the map with reasons for and against travel. Is it something to think about? I like travel because it’s sort of a “stimulus” program for ME.
Bill, provocative comment above, really enjoyed it. I’m pondering my reasons for love of travel and so far I can say it’s my way of telling the world,”stop, I’m getting off” which, somehow, is very important to me. It’s so very gratifying to learn, see, and grow.
Let’s not forget that many people travel on business or to visit family and relatives. One of the hoped-for side effects of that kind of travel is the chance to have some new sights, and experiences, to try some new food or maybe to ride a train for the first time.
Madonna is washed up, and has been for years. Anybody disagree?
In October 2007 my wife and I escaped Dubrovnik–not much fun in the rain. We took a bus to Mostar for an overnight stay. Your picture of the Catholic church touched a nerve. I was hoping to see its exterior finished with decorative tile or something but it seems that it was meant to look like an imposing bunker. Perhaps it is merely practical in a city whose landmarks of one day become the mortar targets of tomorrow. I truly hope that the horrors of ’93 don’t repeat themselves. When we climbed a hill to the edge of the city the most prominent thing in view was that bell tower, completely out of scale with its surrounds and jutting up defiantly, like a huge middle finger aimed at those across the river.