Feelings intertwine today in regards to that time. The greatest achievement of the nineties for us Sarajevans was not surviving until peace, but living during war. Paralleling the smell of gun powder were citizens who went to school, work, and universities as if it was a regular time, and a regular place. We ran the snipered intersections on our way to the theater to produce Ravel’s bolero with a modern twist. We ceased to be victimized. It ceased to be a war. It was just an anachronism. A mistake in time.
I found these photos online, and am borrowing them to express my unusual nostalgia of that time of magical realism in Sarajevo. They are by a Bosnian war photojournalist, Rikard Larma, currently a Philadelphia resident.
Mr. Larma captured my sentiments exactly: we really were just a page out of Marquez’ books. This particular set of photos he called “A Siege in 40 pictures.” (Opsada u 40 Slika.)
1984. – Year of the Olympics. Sarajevo, a perfect medium between East and West of Europe was chosen to host the Olympics and represent that different sort of thinking brings beauty into life too. In war only memories remained, and this Vucko (mascot of the games) poster is now trashed, together with cans of despicable ICAR canned meat that was given as Humanitarian Aid.
A UN soldier sits here with some kids (who were my age at the time). We called the UN Smurfs – less because of blue helmets they wore, and more for the nonchalant behavior. They did absolutely nothing to help solve anything that went on in the city. Because of this, Sarajevans are greatly skeptical of any UN missions set up to ‘watch the peace’.
Perhaps the most affected were the elderly. At an age when life should return upon them hard work and effort they put into it, they were forced to witness their country, their way of life, their culture, and their city collapse. Many wished they had ‘gone’ before the start of war. I often wished the same for my grandfather. Had he died just a few months earlier, in 1992, he would have died a satisfied man.
This is the City Hall, greatest library of Sarajevo. It was burnt to the ground in a shell caused fire in 1992.
Remainders. Reminders.
Definitely not an everyday picture, but still charming, very charming. No regular means of transportation, but when life gives you shit and genocide, well then you have to make your own carriage. <3.
Or wait for peace… Like this little fellow.
More photos can be found here.
More about the photographer, Rikard Larma.
I hope you enjoy them as much as I.
Yours with love,
Lola
P.S. I added descriptions to photos, but will gladly remove if asked by author.
Lola, nice bloging.
I try to E-mail You. Email me, please,
R