International observers have long noted that nationalist forces in the Balkans are stronger than ever, yet as the term "genocide" reemerges from obscurity in Europe.
 |
| Sarajevo Map |
As the saying goes, "the Balkans are like the Bermuda Triangle: you get lost in it." For the whole peninsula, thirty years is the age of a generation, and Sarajevo has been doing math for a long time. Since April 5, 1992, the Serbian army's snipers, the snajper, have terrorized its population in the longest siege in twentieth-century history, tearing the country apart for more than a year. Thirty years ago, tens of thousands of people marched through the streets of Belgrade to denounce the ongoing violence in Yugoslavia. People from all over the globe have flocked to the banks of the Miljaka, according to some estimates. The Serbian forces opened fire on the crowd, and the deaths of Suada and Olga on the bridge that bears their names ushered in the conflict. There have been several bridge attacks throughout history, from Francesco Ferdinando through that fateful day in Sarajevo.
Thirty years later
Several dozen individuals showed up this morning to present the two young ladies with flowers. International observers have long noted that nationalist forces in the Balkans are stronger than ever, yet as the term "genocide" reemerges from obscurity in Europe, a symbol of integration between men and women celebrates its 30th anniversary in a state of suspended animation. People who wish to live as if Yugoslavia were still in existence may be found at clubs in Baarija (the historic center of the Ottoman period, where fridge magnets cling to the few visitors and women who don't wear a veil feel like an outcast) during the month of Ramadan.
"Communists like Ferrari"
A Slovenian from Ljubljana, Franko Jankovi, would shred his garments for Sarajevo, joking, "We were Communists, yeah, but because we loved red," he says in a cutting Italian. A black-and-white painting by Tito hangs over the counter of the evabdinica (a traditional eatery). He is surrounded by the same cast of individuals that make up the Balkan tragedy in a post-socialist flavor, watching television and smoking. With my companion, Valerija Skrinjar Tvrz, I arrived in Sarajevo, where she will receive a reward from the mayor tomorrow. When Skrinjar celebrates its 95th birthday on November 8, it will be the final survivor of the Yugoslav freedom fight. Franko, the bartender at the Ljubljana hotel where he worked until 1979 and claims to have served Ike and Tina Turner, calls himself "a legend." For me, Yugoslavia will never die; they tried to murder her, but they failed. He was an asshole, but what a terrific time.
When the West thinks it has understood
Everything in the Balkans might change at any moment, so don't take anything for granted. People who pontificate are not what we need here. In the Balkan movie, Western journalists is made fun of because the inhabitants of this peninsula frequently feel misunderstood by those who believe they rule the globe. Only people with a fascination for electricity should be concerned about short circuits and blackouts. As a result, even in Sarajevo, things grow more complex and confusing. The date of April 5, 1945 is a significant one for the people of the country. The Nazis were finally evicted from the city on that occasion. Nearby, flags and scarves fly in an overlap of recollection that would compel any ardent fan of universally shared experiences into crisis. Franko jokingly says, "Red like the Ferrari fanatics."
Nation and religion, what a mess
Sarajevo, it comes down to building bridges that connect. The map of remembrance mixes with the partisan chants, which are barely audible near the Viegrad gate. The guy on duty, accompanied by an escort, is consulted by local TV just below. "In Sarajevo, everyone can be a minister, and Internazionale just produced a great documentary film by Simone Modugno and Linda Caglioni," they remark. If you want to make a better world, transcend the ethnicities and faiths box. Just think about it. Sarajevo native Adi (his actual name) was born and raised in Berlin, although he now works in a hotel in the city center. His father, who served in the military, died today. The return of my mother and I has left me feeling uneasy. Everything here is quite challenging. Getting asked, "Which deity do you believe in?" during an interview is nothing new. It's possible that it's because of how the holidays are organized. There is a calendar to keep track of all the holidays, including Christmas, the Orthodox New Year, Easter, Ramadan, and others.
Confusion of state and the future
In a state of chaos that can only be expressed in capital letters in this particular place, the Serbs, Bosniaks, Bosnians, and Croats are all crammed into the same pot. While the leaders of the Republika Srpska are on edge, others do not believe there is a real danger. They shout because Moscow has a role in the conflict - so Anes, forty who escaped the siege as a youngster via the famed tunnel. Things are going well for us in Sarajevo despite the fact that it's a paradox. It's time for the muezzin to sing. A number of young people want to be like Dzeko. While a young guy plays the accordion in front of the church and pleads for donations, a pair of youngsters walk arm in arm. It seems like a distant memory as the sun sets behind the snow-capped mountains. As a speaker, "you usually end up there, but young people want to go beyond". This city's power may also serve as a warning to the rest of the globe if the ball reaches the net and the children's screams are heard.
Author: Nicolò Giraldi/TODAY
