Sarajevo: A Love Letter
The sound of muezzins reverberates through the air, as the lunar clock towering above the Gazi Husrev-Beg mosque strikes twelve noon in Sarajevo. People gently pour their coffee from hand-made copper vessels, perched on stools hanging on the edges of steep, cobbled streets, that wind from the main bazaar into the hills. Nearby, in the famous copper alley, an artisan continues his family’s tradition by chiseling away on a copper plate as thousands of pigeons encircle the city’s historic Sebil (water fountain), built in 1753. As one makes their way through the square and into the bascarsija (bazaar) — established in the 15th century after the city was conquered by the Ottomans — one is transported, for a moment, into Istanbul’s Sultanahmet district. It is teeming with energy — the smell of freshly made Bosnian coffee and the waft of hookahs, the laughter of young schoolchildren eating kinder gelatos, the tourists peering into the grand mosque as others enter for the midday prayer. One can find baklava, cay (Turkish tea) and other delicious Anatolian foods, including some of the best doner I have had at Kebab House Sarajevo Doner. But beyond the comfort of those familiar foods and sweets, one discovers novel culinary delights and innovative takes on dishes from across the Balkan region and beyond. A local restaurant that I loved, Dveri, served goulash with a Bosnian take, paired with homemade hallah bread. At Baklava Ducan, where several generations of family have been preparing delicious sweets, I absolutely fell in love with the dzandar, a walnut baklava with sour cream in the middle. At Ramis, I tried Hurmadzik, a Bosnian cake, a cross between a traditional tea cake and a gulab jamun. It was absolutely scrumptious — perhaps my favorite of all the Bosnian desserts.
As one makes their way out of the old town, there is a distinct change in the style of the buildings from classical Ottoman to Austro-Hungarian, reminiscent of what one might find strolling around Vienna. This empire conquered the city in 1878, imprinting itself onto its fabric in a myriad of ways — from the physical architecture to innovations in mobility, such as the introduction of the first tram in Europe (which still runs today). The established the National Museum and the City Hall, which at one point housed 2 million rare manuscripts, before it was destroyed in the war of 1992–1995. To experience the interior of a building from this period, I went to dine at 4 Sobe Gospodje Safije, based in an old Austro-Hungarian house built in 1910. However, to really appreciate the role this city has played in the theatre of global empires, just walk to the Latin bridge. This is where Archduke Franz Ferdinand was assassinated in 1914, sparking off the chain of events that led to World War 1.
In the early mornings, I’d run along the River Miljacka along the main avenue of the city, where the landscape gradually changes from Austro-Hungarian to more functional, soviet style apartment buildings. These were established during the years of Josip Broz Tito, who was the leader of the Socialist Republic of Yugoslavia. Back in that time, during the prime of the Balkan region’s economic development, many people were provided apartments by the socialist state. It is one of many policies that brought Tito an enormous popularity and reverence that remains till this day. I had previously visited the Tito Mausoleum in Belgrade. Here, I went to check out the Tito café, full of young people surrounded by memorabilia of their leader. Given the violent breakup of Yugoslavia in the 1990’s, it is still remarkable how a single person (literally) held these countries together under the common banner of the Southern Slavic peoples. It was a question that stayed with me throughout the trip as I delved deeper into the history of this land and its unthinkable war.
And yes, the tragedy of the war is everywhere around you. Hundreds of buildings bear shelling marks of the siege of Sarajevo. There are graves dotting many avenues (I observed through my travels throughout Bosnia-Herzegovina just how ubiquitous graveyards were, as many public places such as parks had to be repurposed to lay to rest the thousands who perished). Almost all are dated between 1992 to 1995, when Serbian paramilitary forces tried to capture Sarajevo, shelling the city from very same mountains that hosted the 1984 olympic games. I heard stories from my local tour guide that the Serbian forces believed that the city would fall in fifteen days. But everyone, from the taxi driver I met (who was a Bosnian solider at the time) to countless others, spoke about how they defended their home with enormous courage. War begets resilience that no human should have to ever muster. The scenes I saw and the many narratives I heard shattered my heart. I visited the old children’s hospital that was bombed and whose skeletal remains have been preserved. I was told that the large avenues that I went for my morning run on, were “sniper alleys” where people would run across — veiling themselves in the dark — to avoid being shot to death. I learnt of the story of the Sarajevo zoo, where the lion died from famine and the lioness ate the carcass that remained. And the story of Admira Ismić and Boško Brkić, Muslim Bosniak and Orthodox Bosnian Serb, whose love was unencumbered by the ethnic and religious fault lines of the war. They were gunned down in sniper alley, and have been memorialized in the documentary, Romeo and Juliet in Sarajevo. As I walked through this city, I carried the weight of this history, feeling its presence everwhere.
But it was not simply the tragic stories that people wanted me to know. This was also a time of enormous creativity, ingenuity, and will to survive. My tour company, Meet Bosnia, took us to the Tunnel of Hope, an 800 meter long tunnel built over three months, which 4,000 people used daily to get food from outside the city. At the history museum of Sarajevo (which is a great resource to understand how the war started and came to an end), I watched a video of musicians and artists from the time who shared anecdotes about the intense, underground concerts that took place there. During the siege, the singer Bruce Dickinson (from the band Iron Maiden) demonstrated extraordinary courage by making the journey to the city and doing a concert to uplift its people. All of this was a way to not give up on life, even as the world gave up on this country. Sometimes, we forget that even in the worst of circumstances, life goes on, in its own way.
At the end of these long days immersing myself in the city, I’d seek refuge at Teahouse Dzirlo, a tea house hanging off my favorite cobbled street, away from the bustle of the old town. A man, who looked no less than a wizard, with long, grey hair, a dark gown, and a beautiful, almost serene smile, served me tea and Salep (a Turkish drink of milk and cinnamon) as a night cap. I let my mind quieten down to the sound of the rain and the night adhaan (call to prayer), and reminisced about how Sarajevo has been able to revitalize itself in so many ways; that this very moment I was enjoying was possible only because of the thousands of sacrifices of its people during the siege and the years after. Of course, there remains a deep overhang from that time, not only in the trauma of its residents but in the political and material reality of the city and country today. During my visit, the US and Bosnian military did a military exercise amidst the continued successionist threats from the leader of Respublika Srpska, the ethnic Serb dominated region that was given autonomy within the Federation of Bosnia and Herzegovina. Today, the leadership of the country is shared by three rotating presidents, one from each ethnic group (Muslim Bozniak, Croat and Serb), handicapping the process of decision-making. Several talked about the economic stagnation the Bosnia is experiencing, with few opportunities for young, educated people. Many are leaving for better pastures, reminding me of the exodus of people from Karachi — my hometown — as it fails to provide opportunities to thrive.
Yet, spending time in Sarajevo also made me understand how people can survive the worst of times and rebuild even from mounds of rubble. I learnt that optimism, courage and the will to survive often have more stamina in the theatre of human impulses than the will to dominate or destroy. It was the people of Sarajevo who kept its extraordinary hertiage and soul alive even in the face of its impending death. My visit changed me, and I hope you too will make a trip there, bearing witness to Sarajevo’s beauty, its tragedy, and its ongoing journey.
Pictures & Videos:
Curated Recommendations:
I’d recommend you spend 3 days in Sarajevo. Explore the city fully, discovering it on your own terms. A few curated recommendations you might find helpful are below:
Dining:
- Restaurant Dveri
- Baklava Ducan
- Ramis
- Kebab House Sarajevo Doner.
- Sobe Gospodje Safije
- Kibe Mahala
- Teahouse Dzirlo
Tours:
Museums: