Sarajevo. Heartbreakingly beautiful. I’ve learned more in two days about this city’s turbulent past than I did during the entire time it’s struggles were happening. I was 13 years old when the war broke out here in 1992. When the siege began. When thousands fled or were forced to leave their homes. When strange, unknown people called “Bosnians” arrived on our doorstep seeking refuge. We paid little attention in school, but I remember it was the first time I wanted to watch the news with dad rather than complain at the cartoons being turned off. And I specifically remember the dejection I felt resulting from the catalogue of catastrophic failures by the UN. For some reason I felt responsible for that. A peacekeeping force that couldn’t keep the peace. That my country was failing to act. Another nail in the coffin of a senseless, needless conflict and wasteful loss of life. It’s not until you learn about each flash point, each critical moment, each gutless high-ranking official, each vacuous sentiment or cloak-and-dagger deal, that you realise once more that people continue to suffer at the hands of their governments; corrupt with greed and hungry for money, land and power. We are but pawns in their games. Put your fucking guns down.
I’ve been thinking about this post for a very long time. There is simply too much to say, and so much that has already been said. I thought about passing on what I’ve learned since spending over a week in this great city, and I thought on a lengthy tirade against those responsible for the terror, and what we need to do about it. I thought about not writing anything at all. In the end I just decided to take some pictures, with a little explanation for each, that you can see below. For those interested, I would recommend the stunning BBC documentary The Death of Yugoslavia, and I would encourage your next holiday destination to be this part of the world. In spite of its bloody past, and much like Berlin or Medellin, Sarajevo has a bright future, and it’s important to arm ourselves with the knowledge to make it so.
Sarajevo: War and Peace. A photo journal.
Sarajevo. Heartbreakingly beautiful. I’ve learned more in two days about this city’s turbulent past than I did during the entire time it’s struggles were happening. I was 13 years old when the war broke out here in 1992. When the siege began. When thousands fled or were forced to leave their homes. When strange, unknown people called “Bosnians” arrived on our doorstep seeking refuge. We paid little attention in school, but I remember it was the first time I wanted to watch the news with dad rather than complain at the cartoons being turned off. And I specifically remember the dejection I felt resulting from the catalogue of catastrophic failures by the UN. For some reason I felt responsible for that. A peacekeeping force that couldn’t keep the peace. That my country was failing to act. Another nail in the coffin of a senseless, needless conflict and wasteful loss of life. It’s not until you learn about each flash point, each critical moment, each gutless high-ranking official, each vacuous sentiment or cloak-and-dagger deal, that you realise once more that people continue to suffer at the hands of their governments; corrupt with greed and hungry for money, land and power. We are but pawns in their games. Put your fucking guns down.
I’ve been thinking about this post for a very long time. There is simply too much to say, and so much that has already been said. I thought about passing on what I’ve learned since spending over a week in this great city, and I thought on a lengthy tirade against those responsible for the terror, and what we need to do about it. I thought about not writing anything at all. In the end I just decided to take some pictures, with a little explanation for each, that you can see below. For those interested, I would recommend the stunning BBC documentary The Death of Yugoslavia, and I would encourage your next holiday destination to be this part of the world. In spite of its bloody past, and much like Berlin or Medellin, Sarajevo has a bright future, and it’s important to arm ourselves with the knowledge to make it so.