Country #125: A day in Bosnia & Herzegovina

Back in 1988, I did a summer abroad program in Yugoslavia. The curriculum included two weeks in Dubrovnik, one in Belgrade and one in Zagreb. In the years that followed, for reasons too lengthy and complex to get into, Yugoslavia was dissolved and subsequently spawned seven distinct countries: Slovenia, Serbia, N. Macedonia, Montenegro, Kosovo, Croatia and Bosnia & Herzegovina. As a country counter, this puts me in a bit of a conundrum. Do I still count Yugoslavia? Do I automatically get credit for Croatia (via Dubrovnik and Zagreb) and Serbia (Belgrade)? Since there are no real rules and I'm making it up as I go along, I opted to count Yugoslavia* while adding all the new incarnations whenever possible. 

This was very much on my mind when I agreed to visit Split, Croatia with one of my favorite travel buddies, David. He wanted a beach, I wanted a new country. By choosing this destination, we could actually Split the difference (note: Yes, that was bad but I apologize for nothing!!). He could soak in the sun, I could do a day trip to Bosnia. 

I was not sure what to expect on this tour. The unfortunate fact is that when most people hear of Bosnia, their mind immediately turns to the war/ genocide of the 90's.  This was the challenge facing Ivanka, our cheery attentive guide for the day. How do you speak honestly about the horrors of war without bumming everyone out? She walked this tightrope beautifully by focusing not so much on the details but on the emotional impact on Yugoslavian people. She herself was a college student in Dubrovnik at the time, living her life and not really aware of the gravity of what was happening. She could not understand why her parents were so fearful on their phone calls. This changed one day when she saw a man reading a newspaper on the bus. The front page featured a picture of the Mostar bridge in total ruins after a relentless bombing campaign. She wept knowing things had forever changed. Deep divisions were formed amongst people who had been once united as Yugoslavians. 

Had she stopped there, it would have been a pretty somber day, but she turned her attention to the present day and a country that is being rebuilt and reborn. If a country is to succeed, they need young people to remain and put in the work. With this is mind, Bosnia is offering free college tuition thus luring students with the hopes that they fall in love with this country and choose to stay. The good news is that it's beginning to work. 

The importance of this plan was evident during our first stop in the lovely medieval city of Pocitelj. This hilltop town, built in the 14th century has been placed on the UNESCO watchlist as one of the 100 most endangered sites of cultural heritage. They went from a pre-war population of 600 to just 13 residents.

The town itself boasts such a unique blend of nature and architecture that it would take hours to properly explore. We were given thirty minutes.

This was barely enough to run into the Sisman Ibrahim Pasha mosque and make it to the fortress on top for the views of the Nevatna River.

As I sprinted back to the meeting point, sliding all the way on the slippery stone steps, it occured to me that perhaps the 587 people had not so much left but instead tumbled to their death ala an oafish Boston cop going down a slide.

From there it was a short scenic drive with views of a vineyard-filled valley to Mostar and its famous bridge. Once we arrived, we were handed off to Ana Maria, a local guide. She too acknowledged the war but made it clear that this would not be the focus of her tour. She wanted to discuss the city's rich history from its 400 years Ottoman rule to its succeeding 40 years under the Hapsburg Dynasty. 

It was under Ottoman rule, particularly under Suleiman the Magnificent, that the Stari Most (old bridge) was built. How important was it to the city's identity? The very name, Mostar, comes from the word mostari or "keepers of the bridge".

This was the same bridge that Ivanka saw in that 1993 newspaper photo. The needless destruction of such a beloved 16th century piece of cultural heritage shocked the international community. UNESCO immediately recognized the importance of rebuilding the bridge and led the efforts to create an exact replica, completing the project in 2004.

Fulfilling her aim to highlight history, Ana Maria told us about the bridge's origins. Sultan Suleiman wanted a way to get goods and resources across the Neretva river and back to his home base, Istanbul. His solution was to hire Sinan, a noted architect, to build him a bridge. Simple enough. Problem was that Sinan saw this as his chance to make architectural history by creating the world's first single arch bridge of its size. He experimented with glueing and stapling the stone blocks together only to see them tumble into river, over and over again. As the deadline approached, the Sultan asked what was up with his bridge. Sinan not only broke the news that there was no bridge but was also forced to mention that he had already blown through the entire budget (see: floating chunks of bridge in the river). An understandably cranky Sultan relented and gave him more money but not before placing one of his men to keep a close eye on the project. The henchman made it clear that if this project was not completed promptly, the next thing floating in the Neretva was going to be Sulan's head. Sulan took a new approach and created scaffolding to hold everything in place during the bridge's construction. He was so confident in this technique that on the eve of the scaffolding's removal, he packed up and got the fuck out of town, never to be seen or heard from again. You know, just in case. Turns out his concern was unfounded as the bridge remained standing for 400 years (and would have stayed longer but for the bombing). It should also be noted that even with all his mishaps, Sulan built the bridge in 6 years from 1560-1566. The rebuilding process, with all the benefits of modern technology, took 4 years. 

Today, it is once again the beloved centerpiece of this charming town. Tourists flock to it, cafes benefit from its views and young men make a living jumping from it. 

The height of the jump is not the most dangerous part. The biggest risk and the reason the jumpers have to undergo regular physicals is the temperature disparity between the surface and the water. On this day, the temperature was in the high 90's while the water was in the 40's. This is enough to shock someone into a heart attack. To acclimate themselves, the divers dump a bucket of cold water over their heads immediately before jumping. If you see them posturing, while collecting tips and they are bone dry, that means no jump is actually imminent. Wait for the bucket before you bring out your camera.  

Once the tour was over, we were given two hours to explore. This was more than in Pocitelj but still not nearly enough, particularly with the number of tourists clogging the tiny streets. I elbowed my way through the throng to get to the Koski Mehmed Pasha Mosque. While it is an Ottoman gem in its own right, I was there to climb the minirat for a view of, what else, the bridge.

While up there, I met a Spanish woman who was spending a couple of days in Mostar and immediately rued that I was not doing the same. I can only imagine how special this place is when all the day trippers go back home. 

Obviously, I wasn't able to stay but at least I could view the bridge from a different, less crowded angle. I ran down to the spot where they offer boat trips: 5 minutes for 5 euro. Both companies said the minimum for a boat trip was 2 people and they wouldn't combine groups. I didn't have the time to debate so I threw 10 euro at them and asked them to please put me and my imaginary friend on a boat stat. 

We motored from the bridge to the mosque before turning back. Ok, that's like 2 minutes tops. I thought we were returning to where we started but we went back under the bridge and continued to a smaller replica of the bridge before once again turning back. We then returned to the mosque and then to the smaller bridge. Mosque. Little bridge. Three times, we did this. I don't know if there is any superstition saying it is good luck to cross under the bridge, in which case at 6 crossings I'm pretty well covered, but I certainly hope so because otherwise this may have been the most pointless boat trip I have ever taken. 

Once I got off the boat, I only had enough time to grab a local beer and go looking for the Spanish square, where Ana Maria told me I could find the most street art. 

I didn't actually find any but it was cool to see the newer (read: less touristy) part of town. 

Soon we were back the bus, on yet another scenic drive to our last stop, the Kravice Waterfalls.

The plan was to swim under the falls but learning that the water was around 50 degrees Fahrenheit changed my mind toot suite. Suddenly, lounging by a water side cafe and taking a couple of photos seemed like a much better plan.

It was soon time to Split to Croatia. (Je ne regrette rien!!) If I were to count my time in Yugoslavian Belgrade as Serbia, that would mean I have now been to all seven of the former Yugo countries. But count aside, I am just happy that when I hear of Bosnia, I will no longer just think of the war but instead of a beautiful, hopeful country with so much to offer.