Thursday, April 30, 2009






When there’s too much to say I’m most tempted to simply let photos do the describing- even though I was not paparazzi enough to snap people turning up carpets at the hotel and suspiciously checking through bins and rifling through the reception drawers and even brazenly trying to crack the safe in search of Physicist Aida’s passport. So yes photos alone would give you a false portrait of magnificent canyons and rivers taken en route to Albania, and various happy snaps atop ancient castles and beachy/ meadowy idylls. They could not convey the spooky reality- it felt like we were characters at the start of a horror movie, innocent and hopeful but with an unshakeable feeling of something sinister lying below the surface of our colourful, hollow new home. As our Elvira, Queen of the Night, put it, it was “creepy and creamy” – perhaps in fairness I should spell it as crime-y but that’s not how I heard it...

I’m hoping the Anthropologist is going to start an insightful, thorough blog which will remove the burden of having to explain everything, including the reason behind the thousands of tiny concrete bunkers peeping out of the rocky meadows like sudden patches of smooth grey mushrooms. I only ever received abridged translations of the tour guides interminable histories anyway so all I can tell you is that the resident Communist dictator forced the bunker sellers to test drive their product by climbing inside and being bombed for at least 15 minutes. Fortunately for them they seemed to hold up and so he ordered 350 000 and sprinkled them about the country.

We did manage to strike up a few friendly conversations in broken English/ Italian, which immediately brought some feeling of relief and reassurance that it wasn’t the chaotic, incomprehensible and impenetrable world it seemed at first. I lost my group at one point and sheltered from the rain with some copper workers who made beautiful cups and jugs and suchlike. The girl there had studied in Greece for 5 years but saw this place, which had a Bascarsija-like atmosphere, as her future- the business had only been set up one generation ago, by her uncle, but she saw it as a secure and definite future and showed me around the workshop under the store with the thick rolls of unworked copper- the proof of their skill. I also watched the rug makers weaving on their huge looms, although that kind of simple, painstaking work appeals to me less than the delicate, speedy silver filigree work I saw.

Somehow we became separated into fairly fixed groups from the beginning- a consequence of the geography of our coach positions I guess, because the first 10 hours of journey time must have been a crucial crucible in forming bonds. The queenly Ikbala taught me many Bosnian tongue twisters, and now I’m greeted by cries of “Screwdriver!” wherever I go. I have become her obedient performing monkey- my spirit resists the foolish recitals but my will is utterly submissive.

Photos will be forthcoming eventually I promise.

5 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said...

Saalam,i feel so sad i didn't get the chance to see you, welcome you all to my home and take you around to some nice places. It was meant to be this way I guess..

3:19 pm  
Anonymous sleepy said...

My love your phone call made me weep- if you could make your way to Sarajevo I would be really overjoyed..

You know the Ironic song was playing as we began our journey and it was truly the most irony laden experience. Poor Aida had been struggling to renew her passport and got it just in time for the trip only to have it stolen on the first night. I visit the land of one of my dearest friends entirely unaware that she has just been deported back home and discover that she could've been the most perfect guide ever the day after I return.. A little too ironic, I really do think

3:27 pm  
Anonymous Mad Cow said...

'bunker sellers to test drive their product by climbing inside and being bombed for at least 15 minutes'. LOL, one way to check people know what they're doing.

I'm excited to learn lots new Bosnian slang when you come back :-D

fun times!

Put up pictures, man.

Ws xxx

5:19 pm  
Blogger Pink said...

hey u're back this weekend right?! how exciting! xx

2:26 pm  
Anonymous sleepy said...

yep inshallah- has life moved on much since i left?

7:49 pm  

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