The Lexicon Of Life

Since the UN-monitored ``blue'' supply routes were blocked a month ago, the prices have gone up in Sarajevo. Everything is affected; not just the basic foodstuffs and fuel. The shortage of vital resources has resulted in price increases for all goods and services. Sarajevo is going through a medieval siege. Today's version is essentially the same, with some differences: they are outside and we are inside. The airport has been systematically shot up and is protected with numerous sand bags which lie overgrown with grass. In the shelter we can hear the distant boom of guns, the sound curtain to Sarajevo's silence. Sarajevo has two advantages which besieged medieval cities didn't have: access by air and cordless communication. Fifteen big planes have to land in order to ensure the daily supply of the city (when the ``blue'' routes are closed). Every registered bullet results in the postponement of flights for two days. The Bosnian Serbs hold another key in their hands: for every bullet fired at a plane, Sarajevo is punished with shortages, which means that the price of foodstuffs and everything else increases.

THE SNIPER WAR: Even though a cease-fire agreement of sorts has been signed, and the UNPROFOR are overseeing it, bullets fly from time to time in Trscanska St. and in the vicinity of the Marijin dvor neighborhood and the ``Holiday Inn'' Hotel, the river banks and in the suburbs. This is all done just so that the people won't forget the siege.

In the evenings a few rounds of machine-gun fire can be heard from the Jewish cemetery, but nobody takes them seriously.

THE TUNNEL: Being under siege means that one cannot get out or in. The only exit is also medieval: a tunnel under the Butmir Airport apron. The tunnel is narrow, damp, and the ceiling is so low that persons of an average height bang their heads on the supporting beams. Of late the tunnel has become a very busy thoroughfare. All that comes in through the tunnel goes out the same way: food, medicine, fuel, officials, the army, people. This tunnel is the Republic of Bosnia-Herzegovina authorities' only physical link between the capital and the rest of the country. Until recently, it was also one of the best kept secrets. Incredible though it may seem, the secret was never revealed. The local people say that it just turned out that way, that everybody was aware of its importance and that therefore no one gave it away. It was first mentioned in Pale (Bosnian Serb political center) but, as usual, nobody believed them. It was dug by miners (and is a bit crooked because of the speed in which it was done) and was guarded and used by people who were aware that it was the only supply link to the besieged city. The tunnel is now a public secret (rumors are circulating that the Serbs have their own tunnel under the Drina River for bringing in ammunition and fuel); since heavy artillery was moved away, security has slackened a bit.

FOOD: When it comes to food, with the end of summer, the citizens of Sarajevo have been able to relax a little. The summer brought fruit and vegetables in makeshift gardens and flower pots, creating the illusion of bygone summers and plentitude. Pots and tins full of ripening tomatoes and paprika adorn the balconies. We, visitors from another world, are learning to appreciate the beauty of this sight. Sarajevo has survived two great famines. ``I'm fucking fed up with rice, it's only good for making brandy. I've also had it with 7.65 caliber macaroni, canned food, and flour with water,'' sums up the feelings of the ordinary citizens. Those who work for the UN and have access to their canteen grumble that Western food is tasteless. The opening up of the ``blue'' routes coincided with spring, and the beginning of the gourmet season in Sarajevo: Bosanski lonac (stew), salads galore and snacks (meze); the chance to eat some properly cooked food and eat it with a spoon. Now, in late August, those with money eat well and have a large selection to choose from. It is said that fish and shells from the coast also pass through the tunnel. Grilled-meat kiosks and shops in the Carsija (city center) are open and they are very particular about the quality of their food. There are some good restaurants, but the prices are slowly rising; now they are somewhere between Belgrade and Zagreb (a very expensive city) prices. The average salary in Bosnian coupons is around 40 70 pfennings...

As in all wars and sieges, really exclusive places crop up and do incredible business. Zoran Becic, an actor from Cacak (Serbia) and his partner Cuca own a beautiful restaurant in the Kosevo neighborhood and they serve the best grilled meat in this part of Europe, fabulous salads and the best wines from Herzegovina. And the people come... Hedonism is still alive and well: a man who dodged sniper fire this winter in order to collect some fire wood he now feels the need to take his family out to Zoran's place for a feast and spend at least 50 DEM.

The experience of hunger and the struggle for survival has given the citizens a certain courage, self-confidence and openmindedness, and has strengthened their desire to survive. No more, no less.

ELECTRICITY: A man in Sarajevo told me that his wife in Germany had criticized him for having a good time. ``When I go and see her, I'll switch off the electricity, turn off the water and turn off the gas just for a day, and make her go and fetch water from the neighbors. That'll be enough; then she'll have some idea what it was like for me.'' Electricity is like one of those elementary forces controlled by some grumpy and capricious deity: it comes and goes. Some were lucky and secretly hooked up into the lines of privileged users; they don't talk about it and call it ``small electricity,'' compared to the normal supply. All household appliances work if they are connected to the ``small electricity'': computers, radio, television, lamps. The shortage of electricity and the scarcity of gas mean that cooking must be done on ranges using hard fuel---wood and paper; in winter it means boredom and being frozen stiff. Electricity means hot water, music, television and light (in winter it gets dark before four in the afternoon). Having electricity and water at the same time means that the washing can be done, that one can shower normally---something we cannot conceive of. Field generators in front of cafes are working; there are many of them in Sarajevo (according to some estimates, they account for half of the electricity supply), most of them use methane gas, yet another key held by the Bosnian Serbs. The others use liquid fuels, which is also controlled by the Serbs.

HEATING: Gas is good while it's around, explain Sarajevo's ``experts on thermodynamics''; it is even better if a tile stove or anything that accumulates heat can be heated with a gas burner; but wood is best. The sound of chainsaws and the cracking of branches can be heard all over Sarajevo. Cardboard boxes are also being stacked away---anything that will help the people get through the winter. When the walls were covered with frost, books and furniture were also burned. ``You can learn a lot,'' said one of the locals. ``Old shoes can keep you very warm... plastic beer crates give off heat and light. And old jeans! Books are not very good, but they'll do when you don't have anything better; all that knowledge is of little use.'' All that some people had during the past two winters was a sack or two of wood. Under a tacit agreement, after stormy weather, the citizens of Sarajevo allowed those who arrived first to collect broken branches, because they assumed that those people needed them most.

Cooking ranges using solid fuel have turned out to be the greatest luxury in this war. Craftsmen and tin-smiths have made money by hammering out simple tin cookers (price: up to 200 DEM); but, since they are not insulated, they keep warm only as long as the fire continues to burn. Most windows have been shattered by explosions, shrapnel and bullets; strong plastic sheeting with the blue UNHCR logo keeps out the draft, replacing windows, roof tiles, walls and windscreens. When there is no electricity, the city streets are full of various stenches a stranger would be hard put to define.

CARS: ``Man, there's no better car than the `Golf': you'd never guess what we drove them on in the past two years. Oil from transformers is best; that's why so many transformer stations are not working: the people would squeeze out the last drop and then drive around. Then we used old engine oil: the brighter ones would filter it through a rag several times, while the assholes poured it in as it was, so their filters and Bosch pumps got ruined faster. After that we used cooking oil, and the car runs with no problem, man. And it smells like pancakes...'' The cars in Sarajevo are battered, riddled with bullet holes, bloodied, rusty; the fenders and exhaust pipes drag along. Instead of windshields they have plastic sheeting which makes it impossible to see anything, but the owners have cut out and fitted in a bit of see-through plastic in front of the wheel. Shrapnel and bullet holes are not mended; they are status symbols. A shiny new car is a rarity. There are taxis (fares are 10 DEM for the inner city), and every taxi-driver has a story to tell---about woundings or deaths; most of them have holes in their vehicles to prove it.

A TAM 2000 pick-up passes down the road, and it does smell of pancakes.

WATER: The most dangerous aspect of life in Sarajevo is obtaining water: it is claimed that more people were killed fetching water than doing anything else. There is a curfew from 22:00---05:00 and it is strictly observed; the only exception, late at night, are the people carrying plastic pails; the patrols pretend not to see them. Sarajevo's water-works are barely kept working. Water is rarely available and it does not reach the upper floors when there is no electricity to work the pumps. Sarajevo's brewery saved the city with its four wells; their capacity is 120 liters/ second, and when it rains things improve. During peacetime, the city consumed 2.5 cubic cm/second.

Water is used sparingly: first you wash your face, then your feet, and then you leave it for flushing down the loo. There are various methods of collecting rain-water, which is used for washing, cleaning and drinking, if necessary---after it has been boiled. Despite everything, the people and the flats are amazingly clean.

CHILDREN: The kids are clean and scrubbed. They hang onto trams even though the rides are free and there are empty places; there is a surprisingly large number of teenagers in the streets; pregnant women are a common sight. Semzedin Mehmedovic, a calm, talented young writer and film director, gives us the following sentence in his wonderful and sad book ``Sarajevo Blues'':

Mother: ``Come inside, Harun, mortars are falling.''

DOGS: Sarajevo is full of dogs. At the beginning of the war the city was full of pedigree dogs let loose by owners who could no longer feed them. Hungry and desperate, they roamed the city, unused to digging through rubbish and the struggle for survival. Most of them managed to find a second home; the remaining strays are hunted by dog catchers. There are practically no cats; some think that the dogs got them or, being more intelligent and capable, they were able to leave for better places. At one time there were no flies; then the pigeons and the crows disappeared; now they're back again. Nature has a way of regulating things.

This morning Seki and Zuko finally managed to wash Rex, a shaggy white sheep dog who wandered in from somewhere and took a liking to five-year-old Igor. Rex hates UNPROFOR and barks at armored personnel carriers carrying french legionnaires with machine-guns peeping out of their bullet-proof vests like tortoises.

HARD DRINKS, SOFT DRINKS: There's a law against selling alcohol in Sarajevo. Beer is considered food, not alcohol: ``There goes Mujo rolling down Pirin Hill, he ate too much beer.'' Pretty waitresses in cafes have the right to decide if a customer gets brandy or not and no one protests. A local poet, a Serb, complains: ``At receptions these nouveau Muslims only serve juice, then they go home and drink whiskey.''

FASHION: ``In the town all those who think they're something special carry guns or walkie-talkies,'' said an official in a cafe. It was true; men walk around carrying one or the other, rarely both. Office workers wear ties; military personnel are rarely in complete uniform (fatigues are usually enough); nobody salutes. Many of the men wear earrings, Ray-Ban sunglasses and expensive gymshoes.

Women, however, care about their looks: there are many conspicuously attractive women around. Even the young women in Muslim garb---a fashion/ideological statement, have a certain coquettish air about them.

MARRIAGE: Jasna (30, very outspoken): ``Look, you either get married of you leave'' (in Sarajevan terminology, people leave, they do not run away from it). ``There are 17,000 divorce cases in the courts. Look, the husband or the wife leave and the one left behind finds someone else; I mean, we're just human. And then you think: if my husband/wife ever comes back, there'll be a lot of suspicion on both sides, and that's it---you've got a divorce; so you think, let's get divorced immediately. And then the one that left, I mean, it's a moot question if he/she can understand the one who stayed behind...''

That same day the paper ``Oglasi'' (Advertisements) carried the following ad: ``The AMOR agency is looking for young and attractive girls for erotic massage jobs.''

FOREIGNERS: The battered and extremely expensive ``Holiday Inn'' Hotel is full of foreigners: nervous and cynical journalists from the world's biggest newspapers---and nothing is happening these days; Sarajevo is just going on with its life. Humanitarian workers, diplomats, international bureaucrats, military officers, wheeler-dealers and one or two dumbfounded intellectual-humanists. Armed men guard them---there's a police station in front of the lobby. It's the Saigon ``Inter Continental'' of the late sixties revisited: an air-conditioned island with an armed guard. They drive around town in armored white Land-Rovers with air-conditioning. Even then they are in radio-contact with somebody back at the ``Holiday Inn.''

The citizens of Sarajevo look on them with a mixture of scorn and disappointment. ``Those journalists, well there's some use in them, but the others, it's not that they don't spend money, they do; it's just that they don't understand and they never will. UNPROFOR are worse bureaucrats than the communists. Feed me, so I'll die with a full belly (a common sentiment in Sarajevo)...'' Sarajevans do, however, respect those who they think care about Sarajevo and are trying to understand Bosnia.

TV: If there ever was a well-informed city in the Balkans, then it is Sarajevo: they watch their own two TV stations in addition to stations from Belgrade and Pale; some are also able to watch HTV (Croatian TV), and many have satellite dishes. Radio is a story in and of itself: there are eight FM stations. In every house this reporter visited, the TV set was turned on. ``We've missed it, because of the electricity cuts... And what do you do after ten o'clock? You sit and watch until you feel sleepy.'' Like any state television, TV B H has a specific editorial policy. TV ``Hyatt'' pretends to be in line with ``the tradition of the Bosnjak-Muslim people,'' as Culture Minister Enes Karic puts it, but they broadcast several films daily without regard to religious content. Pale TV is considered to be the ``comedy channel'' and is watched regularly. Pale TV director Risto Djogo is more popular than Bosnian Serb leader Radovan Karadzic (they would love to get their hands on him in Sarajevo.)

WINTER: When talking about the coming winter, even the most patient inhabitant of Sarajevo becomes bitter. ``Man, enough is enough, for the love of God. This is the third year that they're shelling us, starving us and making us freeze...'' The people in the suburbs (Mihrivode, Dobrinja, etc.) seem to be more self-confident than those in the city center: it could be their worker background and the fact that they are more used to hardships... Chainsaws buzz throughout Sarajevo, wood is being cut, food is being stored, the stoves are being readied, and the ammunition is being saved. Semzedin Mehmedovic described someone in his book: ``S. is standing before the mirror: She is glad about the way she has lost weight in the war. Only those with firm plans concerning the future of their bodies will survive.''