Travels with Papillon
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Travels with Papillon |
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BOSNIA & HERZEGOVINA |
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BOSNA i HERCEGOVNIA |
Somewhere, in the back of your mind lives an image or a thought, how or when it got there you haven't a clue, but it has stayed with you all these years. And it becomes an itch that you just have to scratch. And for me, one of those itches has been:
Stari Most
the old bridge
Mostar, Bosnia Herzegovina
The Ottoman Turk bridge over the River Neretva
Completed in 1567 after nine years of construction under the reign of Suleiman the Magnificent. The bridge had become the symbol of Mostar to the world. As a symbol it became a target during the Balkan War of the early nineties.
| In 1991 the Yugoslav Federation
simply disintegrated and war broke out between Serbs, Slovenes, Croats,
Bosnian Serbs, Bosnian Muslims (Bosniacs), and Bosnian Croats. For
the most part harmonious relations has existed between the Muslim and Catholic
populations of this valley. However in the summer and fall of 1993
the wheels fell off that relationship and violence between them
ensued. In November 1993 Croat tank forces set up a gun line on a
hill south of town and commenced 3 days of shelling. On November 9th
they shot the bridge to pieces.
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Atop a mosque fountain |
At the cessation of war the entire
world responded and aid rushed to Bosnia Herzegovina and Mostar in
particular. UN money, European, American and especially Muslim money
from Turkey arrived. The bridge complex and much of the local
infrastructure were restored. The old bridge area again became a
symbol and many forces would not allow it to remain in rubble. The
reconstructed bridge reopened July 23, 2004. All mosques in the area
that we could see have been refreshed. Every one of them was
sparkling white with pointed up masonry and clean grounds
The town is still a bit of a mess in spots with large burned out buildings still visible, but the bridge area is filled with restaurants and gift shops and hope is evident everywhere. Down through the valley the 25 miles to Croatia there was evidence that the authorities were encouraging tourism and small shops and auto services were opening there. Driving in, the border formalities took 20 seconds. Passport check and a review of our car insurance documents to insure Bosnian coverage. Roads were good and streets were wide and easy to pass. |
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Several mosques were open for touring with a small entrance fee.
To the right is the courtyard fountain for the faithful to ritualistically wash prior to attending prayers.
To the left is the Mihrab, or notch in the wall that indicates the direction to Mecca. |
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We spent most of our time in the Muslim section of town and one would not know it if you based your perceptions on dress and appearance. At most we saw 4 women who were covered. More than not the girls looked like Americans with bared mid-drift, blue jeans, black shirt with some slogan or advertisement and any assortment of hair styles and make up, including Goth.
* * * * *
You're not going to believe this one,
but I didn't make it up.
Honest!
| After our tour we sat in a riverside restaurant for supper and contemplated our next move. That move was somewhat complicated by Mr. Dummy's actions of the night before in which he locked us out of Papillon and we had to bust a front side window to get in. The Mercedes shop in Split had to order the replacement part and it will arrive in 5 days so in the by and by we have the ever popular duct tape window cover, in a tasteful gray. Our options were: stay in the dirt parking lot downtown, find a hotel for the evening or head back to the coast forty miles distant as there were no campgrounds anywhere near Mostar. Window security was foremost in our minds. |
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When suddenly at the parking lot the 2 young attendants gave us the option of Door Number Four. For only 20 Euros you can have a room plus secure parking for Papillon in a garage. Okay, tell us more. Just a moment I will get the girl who speaks English. Within a flash Lela arrives and speaks in near flawless English. And just as quickly her father arrives with his little car. Yes that is correct, a room for 20 Euros, with bathroom and shower and secure parking. Well can we see it. Of course. So we all pile into this little blue car and we are off to see "Hostel Nina".
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Around a big block, across the river, turn right and then a quick left into a half dirt- half asphalt alley that led up hill to a 3 story building with balconies that sort of looked down on the2nd floor of a four story building on the other side of a mini woods. Just a moment she says as she makes a phone call in order to summon the girl with the key. Again in a flash another young lady, Nina, arrives with the key, driven there by her mother. (It is getting crowded now). Thus this party of 6 now tromps upstairs to view said room. Door swings open, and surprise surprise, it is actually very nice. Basic but clean and bright, with a very modern and clean bathroom right outside the door. And the secure parking became the space in front of the building well hidden from view. |
These fine folks were what they said they were, just running a side hostel to make a few bucks and get ahead in life. There was no hustle here, just entrepreneurship at its finest. Even Judy was satisfied and we agreed with just one small change - we would sleep in Papillon and use the facilities.
| Now the show truly got exciting - go fetch Papillon. The 4 of us return to the lot, crank up our 5 ton baby and tag along back across the river and make a left up the alley. Here the ensemble is joined by seven snot nosed neighborhood kids in full volume, 3 vocal hounds (a little guy from the balcony above, a middling mongrel in the semi distance with a mediocre noise of no consequence, and Boomer or whatever his name was with a Big Dog voice that would scare the bejesus out of any nefarious soul. Add to this clamor the well meaning intentions and hand directions of the cast as Papillon attempts to make a left and a back up maneuver in a space just big enough for a dog to turn around in. And filling every available door and window was a face inquiring as to What The Hey. With much ado, to-ing and fro-ing, and very little grace Papillon finally settled into his assigned space for the evening and collapsed with exhaustion. |
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After all this commotion we had become part of the neighborhood and with that our security was assured. We had become "their Americans" and they would look after us. With glad hands all around, a tour of our home was arranged and details settled. Later we walked the short distance to a bridge overlooking the Stari Most and enjoyed the evening view. While there we listened to the muezzin sing out the evening prayer from the mosque tower. The night call is mellow and reflective, not the shriek we often hear on TV, perhaps it is the Turkish rather than the Arab influences here. The street was darkish and walking was difficult because the cars were parked on the sidewalks in order to get out of the way. Thus you are forced into the street along with the traffic. However we felt safe and secure because the street was active with women alone or with children. Whenever you see that, wherever in the world, it usually signifies you will be okay.
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The young men of the area jump from the 100 foot high bridge for tourist money, and as a test of manhood. They have been doing it for centuries. |
Gooooooood Morning Bosnia!
At 5 the loudspeaker from the mosque tower intones the faithful to hotfoot it to Prayers. The roosters shortly thereafter do what we pay roosters to do early in the morn. Next, Dog Nation collectively clears its throat with exceptional vigor that completely shoots its bolt. The silence is not long when Mr. or Mrs. Dove takes up a most repetitive and annoying "birdsong" while standing (it seams) on my nose. All then return to slumber land except, of course, Tom and Judy, but even they soon catch a couple of more winks.
Coffee is slowly being sipped when more neighborhood noises issue forth, however these sounds have a familiar ring to this work his way through college on the construction gang guy. It was the sound of heavy equipment, and it sounded as if it was working between me and the street I needed to exit to. It sounded like the Waterworks crew. It was the Waterworks crew working between me and the street I needed to exit to. A brief discussion ensued, the final gist was: Get Out Now! They graciously re-covered their hole and we were outta there.
I told you I don't make this stuff up! |
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While leaving town we saw a number of "roses" in the street. Sadly we were not quick enough with the camera to photograph any of these. Here is a URL of a photo of a Bosnian Rose. It is not what you might expect.
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