Sarajevo

Oh Sarajevo (a poem)

Those born by you could hardly imagine else other than you Those born not by you could hardly imagine else after meeting you Only a stranger could appreciate your beauty as much as I do Those sunny days of yours warmed by your elevated closeness to the skies Those cool nights of yours aired by the circumventing winds of your valley Only if your mountains moved away could thy protection leave me Those magnificent minarets of yours ever calling me for worship Those dendritic springs of yours that never cease to quentch my thirst Only if I could do miracles could I transform else to you Oh Sarajevo, may I never need to find else other than you ====================== - Kazem O., July 2009

The Siege of Sarajevo

I found this following personal account of a woman in Sarajevo describing her life in war on a website. For this woman it was not an ethnic war, but I am not sure whether I would say the same.

A survivor of the Bosnian war, Elma Dizdar spoke with Zubeida Mustafa on overcoming the traumas of the war. When the Serbian army attacked the capital of Bosnia in April 1992, Elma was a 20-year-old student, studying languages and philosophy at the University of Sarajevo. She and her family did not leave their home throughout the war and braved the hardship of the siege —the longest in history .

Here is Elma’s story:“It was April 6, 1992, Eid for the Muslims of Bosnia, when the Yugoslav army struck. The Serbian soldiers had been taking up position on the hills surrounding Sarajevo since winter and we sensed that something out of the ordinary was taking place. However, we never really anticipated a war. Yugoslavia was a multi-ethnic society but we had never been conscious of our ethnic distinctiveness. Many of my friends were Serbs and Croats with whom I had grown up, and none of us believed that we would fight each other.“When the war came, it was not really an ethnic war. Neither was religion an issue. Under Communism, the Muslims, as well as the Christians, could not practise their faith openly. Hence our parents like many others, never taught their children about religion. They didn’t want to confuse us.“There had been tension and rumours were rife. Kosovo, Croatia, Slovenia had seen fighting, but the Serbs, Croats and Muslims in Bosnia were closely knit and war seemed so remote, at least to me. We didn’t know about the Greater Serbia plan Milosevic had been drawing up.

”When the Yugoslav army attacked, we were shocked beyond belief. I remember being glued to the TV watching the unarmed students marching towards the bridge across the River Miljacka, which separated the city from the hills. Suddenly the shooting started and a young medical student fell dead. She became the first Bosnian victim of the war. Then came the explosions and the firing. The war had started.“Sarajevo was under siege and the people were under attack. We were always haunted by the fear of death. People were being killed and one didn’t know who would be the next victim. Bloodstained streets became a common sight for us. Friends were struck by snipers’ bullets and died before our eyes. Going to the university was an ordeal. It involved an hour’s walk through sniper fire — petrol was a luxury only for senior administrators of the city. The biggest act of kindness to me in those days was being offered a lift by someone in a car — it cut short the time of exposure to the bullets.“We knew that if we tried to create some semblance of normality in our lives it would help us stay sane. Hence this effort to keep up university life, even though most of the faculty had gone. But those who were there went out of their way to help by teaching us and lending their own books to us. The schools were kept going by setting up small classes in sheltered spots in every locality so that the children did not have to go out and get exposed to the snipers. It was the teacher who took the risk and walked miles to reach the children in an improvised school. Yet most people were so gripped by fear and depression that they simply refused to leave their basements where they spent their time round the clock.“To make matters worse, there was no electricity or heating for months at a stretch. The first winter (in 1992) we just burnt whatever we could lay our hands on - even our summer shoes and clothes because it was so cold that it was difficult to believe that the weather would change again to warm our shivering bodies. There was so little food to eat that we were starving and people shriveled away. Whenever the humanitarian aid arrived, it brought hope of more food.“The physical hardship and the constant feeling of fear apart, the worst aspect of the war was that it robbed people of their self-esteem. It was degrading and dehumanizing. It was humiliating to line up for food to be doled out. With the economy totally shattered, no one was paid for the work he did. Yet we continued working because it kept us functional. By focusing on our survival, we could keep ourselves going.

“It might seem strange to the outside world, but the fact is that for us in Sarajevo this was a war to save our city. We were Sarajevans first and Muslims or Serbs or Croats later. That is why it was a multi ethnic group, which defended the city. There were cases of a Serb fighting his own brother in the Yugoslav army. It was a sense of 'belongingness' we all felt for Sarajevo.”“Once the war started and the battle lines were drawn, I never wanted to leave. I could have gone away and made a comfortable life for myself in the West. But I knew it would have created moral dilemmas for me which I would never have resolved. Besides I knew that we were not fighting an ethnic war. The war was not against the Serbs. There were many Serbs on our side too and they fought alongside us. They shared our rage when we discovered that the attacks were directed against the children. How could I go away? I had to stay back and defend the city and help the children survive the trauma. I am proud of my people who survived the horrors of the war and continue to be functional.”

La Lucha

I am sucked into reading the biography of my hero. In fact I would not mind laying around the house reading the biography of Che Ernesto Guevara, all 745 pages of it. I find him so extremely heroical and inspirational. And if you take away the politics of it all and take away whatever political polarity you find yourself on you will see that behind the politics the message, sacrifice, intention and purely the CHARACTER of this man is fascinating.

While I am reading the beginning of his life during childhood and college years I find myself intrigued by all the adventures he went on as a young adult. In fact I am taken back to the movie, Motorcycle Diaries in which his early life was so well portrayed and also by such wonderful landscape. Reading that chapter of his life in the book I can actually imagine it by just thinking about the movie, and it seems even more real.

I am captivated by the fact that he just left off with his friend and started traveling around latin america more often than not scrounging their way through, and sleeping in unimaginable places, hungry, while at other times they managed to become acquaintances of powerful, important people who took them in and showed them a hell of a good time. Sometimes I wish that I was able to do something like that, it would be so wonderful. Although I plan to do something similar when I finish Medical School (became a doctor without borders and help the unprivileged and forgotten). Although I will be doing it as a much older person.

It is very well known that Che Ernesto suffered episodes of severe asthma. Despite that he did not live what I like to call a passive life. He was known from an early age to be daring and fearless, one attribute that the author notes is inherited from his mother who was the same way and a stark contrast to their passive, overly cautious father. One of his fearlessness was eluted to in the book when he jumped into the Amazon river and swam across it! This from a man that has severe asthma, it took him 2 hours to swim across the Amazon, which according to my sources is about 190 km wide. During this episode his friends just stood at the side line screaming at him to come back and not to pursue the danger of swimming across the largest river in the world.

Another interesting fact that intrigued me so far in the book, among so many, is the fact that Che was EXTREMELY well read person. By the time he was 22 years old he had numerous, numerous books, in fact some of the books cited I have never even heard. He read books by french authors such as Victor Hugo or Emile Zolo, in their native tongue. He read poetry, political books, social books, philosophical, you name it he had read it. He read books and poetry from various authors, including french, german, indian and many latin american. His favorite poet was Pablo Naruda.
Well, I must say once again I was astonished, I thought I was well read, but now I see that is nothing compared to Che by the time he was only 22 years old.

One more thing that is a lesson learned is the fact that it is not only important for us to read in order to enlighten our view of the world and in order to have informed, unshakable perspectives, but it is as important to write and reflect on our world and the way we see it. Che for example, always kept a diary, even when he was traveling he would write down everything, he would write poetry, he even wrote a book to his father when he was 20 and way before he became a revolutionary. Now of course all his diaries are published and I can't wait to read them. But do you think Che knew that more than twenty years after his diary will be read by people who revere him? Why did he write, what was the purpose to that? Because every intellectual writes, by writing we learn to communicate, we learn to integrate knowledge in order to shape a perspective and to write it down, we learn how to more effectively express ourselves...



So of course, I have made a list of all the books he has read, many of which I have never heard of and have decided to read them as well, including of course the diaries his father and his Cuban wife Aleida published. Another interesting fact is that Che kept quotes of lines he has read, which is exactly what I have been doing for many years.

The photo above was taken of Che when he was giving a speech in 1964. His speech in itself is captivating, but I love the quote he gives at the end: "Patria o muerte." When people such as me have been displaced from their homeland due to war and when so many have died defending it this particular quote strikes a deep, painful note.

Restless

I feel so incredibly restless today. I can't concentrate even though I still have to study. I barely managed to drag myself to the KAPLAN test center to take a practice MCAT test, after I finished I hurried home. And now I am jumping from one thing to the other, never finishing anything but starting a few things. It makes me mad that I can't concentrate because I have to go through this test and figure out where my mistakes are. I am thinking to skip Yoga tomorrow because I the test date is approaching. And maybe all of this is just my way of exhibiting nervousness for what is to come in January. But this time I just can't afford this nervousness.

I think that this restfulness and unconscious nervousness is just a symptom of my anxiety for the test day. Lately, I have been horrible hurrying everywhere and forgetting things. This is what happens when you try to cheat time and you do not let things progress naturally. It is bad when you are at home and decide to go grocery shopping because you need this and that but once you step into the grocery store you forget why you are there. That is what has frequently been happening to me. About a month or more ago I started writing things down that I needed to buy or things that I needed to do in order not to forget.

Right now I just feel like putting my coat and start walking, where to I don't know I just feel like I need to walk, to exercises my body in order to thing clearly. In fact, maybe I should go to the gym if not to Yoga tomorrow. It might do me some good.

It's already time for the holidays

These holidays came way to fast for me this year. I don't celebrate Christmas but I do celebrate the New Year. And every year that the New Year comes it leaves me reminiscing about the past and I become nostalgic about the past. It makes me reflect on the past year and every time I feel that I have not accomplished enough in the past year. That's why I don't like all these holidays. Last year, though I was in Mexico and at that time I was excited about the new year to come. I guess I was in a new place for the first time and I was curious to learn about their culture, and New Year's traditions that I did not have the time to reflect on myself.

And that's a good thing.

Wednesday just before the day of the Christmas Eve, Minnesota was showered with a snow fall. But the snow this time was actually pleasant, this was mostly because it was not cold outside. On Wednesday I left work early (we received verbal permission from our manager) and I had a couple of things to do. I wanted to finish gift shopping for my family. The gifts are not for Christmas but for our Eid celebration that happened a few weeks back. I always get them something for Eid but this Eid I did not get them anything since I had no money. So I was driving around and was stuck in traffic here in Uptown. It was insane the snow was falling, everyone trying to do their Christmas shopping, that I decided to go back to my apartment and park my car and just walk everyone where I needed to go. That was after I hauled some groceries into my apartment. Than I started walking and my first destination was the Starbucks
on Hennepin. Once I started walking I realized that actually this place was not as close as I thought. After Starbucks I turned around and walked the opposite direction to Victoria's Secret. It was so wonderful walking in the snow and there was something romantic about it. And I can't believe it but I was sad that I did not have someone next to me to share that with, that moment on that day walking in the snow.

Either way, I got all the gifts that I wanted and once I got home I was surprised how tired I felt. I wrapped the gifts and sat down to watch some TV. Ambriz called and even though the roads were really bad outside he wanted to come and see me before he leaves for Denver the next day. When he came we played the Monopoly card game I had bought a few days earlier at a Walgreen's. I was surprised how into the game he became and wanted to beat me so badly. It was very amusing to see him getting worked up about something. Anyways, shortly thereafter he left to drive back through the snow to his house and that was that.

Next day I had to get my car out of the snow and it was a pain in the ***. Before that though, I took the picture you see here from my apartment building. It was nice outside so white and the snow was not yet dirty. That same day, I made it to my parents house and they were happy to see me. I gave them the presents and they were happy about them. Since they did not get me anything (they don't have to, since this is my little thing for Eid) Aida had a shirt that she bought at Arden B for herself and decided to give it to me. Which was really sweet of her. She is a very kind person. The following day we went to see Sherlock Holmes with the whole family. I managed to get the last tickets, as soon as I had paid the cashier he announced to everyone that the show was sold out and it made me feel excited that I had managed to get the last tickets! It was however, difficult to find good seats since the movie theater was completely full even though it was 30 minutes before the start of the movie. Well, I guess it is the busiest day for the movie theater business.

First Snow Storm of the Season

Ok, so they tell us that a huge snow Storm is coming, some say it might be the biggest one in a decade (there I am quoting some morning show whose name I cannot recall right now). And I am stuck at work, I so don't want to be here at the moment. I am super tired and on top of that it is snowing outside and I can't stop thinking about my commute home. I will be stuck here for at least another hour. It is 4:30 now and at 5pm we have a teleconference with a couple of investigators from 5 to 6 pm. Of course a couple of people have already bailed out, ohh its my kids hokey practice today, oh I have a small child at home, and of course some people are out of town. I want ot say; hey I will miss my Yoga practice that I look forward to each week! I hope that the teleconference does not end up going a whole hour. In the mean time it already feels so deserted here, and I can hear people leaving. I guess I am new here anyways maybe I could get away by saying, hey I cant miss Yoga gotta go.