A Sight For Sore Eyes

On the eve of Djordje Balasevic's concert in Sarajevo, a Novi Sad tabloid quoted "reliable sources" as saying that Islamic fundamentalists were planning to assassinate the Serbian rock star during his performance. Fortunately, it turned out that the story was devoid of all truth. Balasevic returned home alive and well, probably happier than ever. His two concerts in the Bosnian capital of Sarajevo were full of emotion, and they will go down in history as the peak of a quite brilliant career.

The Balasevic party, consisting of himself, his band and a number of reporters, left Belgrade at the break of dawn on Saturday, February 7th. When it reached the Bosnian border in Zvornik the convoy was met by the UNHCR, which organized the whole show, and by international police in the former Yugoslav republic. The convoy crossed the Bosnian Serb Republic (RS) on its way to the Moslem-Croat federation. It stopped in Tuzla, where Balasevic had a short interview with his UNHCR hosts. Being a star in the true meaning of the word, he was in the focus of attention all the time. That he is natural in spite of all his fame and glory, Balasevic proved when he weaved his way to the toilet through the admiring crowd, saying he was going to check whether there were "any messages on the answering machine".

For the rest of the trip, we enjoyed watching some of the most beautiful landscape nature is able to provide. Thick forests on nearby hills covered with snow were occasionally replaced by make-shift homes, erected in place of bullet-riddled and burnt houses, just to remind us what a few brilliant minds turned this land into.

Bosnian police joined the convoy in the Sarajevo canyon and escorted it to the city centre. All this security could have led one to believe that Bill Clinton had returned to Bosnia, to get away from that pain of a prosecutor trying to nail him for you know what. Your reporter and his two female colleagues got a ride for the last eight or so kilometres in a UNHCR jeep. Mr. Ravi, who organized Balasevic's safe passage to Sarajevo, was kind enough to give us a lift and assure us how thoroughly and professionally Balasevic's concert was secured. Around four o'clock on Saturday afternoon, we were outside the back entrance to the Skenderija hall. We saw Balasevic walk in and then waited for the security to search our bags and rucksacks.

Both concerts - a second one was held on Sunday - were attended by a sellout crowd. Many people who wanted to see Balasevic live couldn't get a ticket, as all of them were sold as soon as they were put in "circulation". The security had a tough time dealing with all those who wanted to get in, as some reporters from Zagreb apparently arrived too late to get press cards from the organizers and tried to talk their way into the hall.

As soon as we entered Skenderija, which was a full two hours before the concert started, we knew we would witness a once-in-a-lifetime event. Balasevic was given a standing ovation by the 7,000 strong crowd when he appeared on stage. His first song, "The night I swam across the Danube" caused an outburst of emotion among the crowd. It was more than an ovation, it was something much stronger and beyond a mere concert. It was the kind of love and positive feeling that every musician lives for and dreams of. After a brief and superflous speech by a UNHCR official, Balasevic continued the concert of his life with a set of old hits which delighted his middle-aged and young fans alike. Before he left for Sarajevo, Balasevic said he wouldn't chat with the crowd as much he usually does, adding that his rhymes should do all the talking this time around. Fortunately,  he broke his promise. Balancing on the delicate issue of war which devastated Sarajevo and killed many of its inhabitants, Balasevic showed great respect and understanding for the town, its people and the suffering they endured. However, not once did his monologue offend any of his fans or sound like an attempt to buy their affection.

I wonder if there is any point in trying to judge this concert as a regular event of its kind. It is worth noting that it lasted no less than four and-a-half hours. The band was well tuned, Balasevic once again showed that he is a true master of ceremony, a brilliant composer and a lot more than an average singer.

The concert that went on for 270 minutes was a sight for many sore eyes. Many people couldn't hold their tears, least of all for the melancholic sound of his songs. There was a lot more to it than just rhymes and melody, and everyone was completely aware of this.

Without a shadow of a doubt, Balasevic's concert was remedy for all those who endured and survived the war, fearing for their lives and the life of a city sentenced to death. Many people are gone, but the town is still there, it survived. Balasevic and Sarajevo are old mates, they go a long way back. However, there isn't much use in lamenting over what Sarajevo used to be before the war. This town has lost many good people, it's ethnic structure and many other structures are very different from what they used to be, it's wounds are still deep and visible, which is why it deserves all the love and affection it can get.

Discarding and forgetting this city, with a cynical alibi that Sarajevo was heaven on earth before the war, would be an act of utmost disrespect. Balasevic realized this without any back thoughts, which is what his Sarajevo fans will always remember. They will also remember that he never so much as swore at Sarajevo during the savage and brutal siege of the Bosnian capital. Why would he?

Some Sarajevo-born people did a great job destroying their hometown, all he could do is defend it. He defended it from people who spat at their own town, who gained a reputation in Sarajevo and became somebody concealing their true nature for years.

A press conference was held the day after the first concert, and Balasevic had to answer reporters from both Bosnian entities, FR Yugoslavia, Croatia and "proper foreign countries". Touching were the desperate efforts of foreign reporters to get a clue what the Balasevic phenomenon was all about. They just couldn't come to terms with the fact that these crazy Balkan people first cut each others' throats and then dance and sing together when some guy, wearing a plain sweater, comes from Novi Sad to hold a concert in Sarajevo.  Some local enthusiasts tried to translate Balasevic's verses to them, but that was quite a hopeless task. After all, as Balasevic said at the press conference, this was "our own thing". He said the war had changed everything in the most bizarre way. Balasevic knows every stone in Bosnia, yet he had to be escorted to its capital by a Hindu. However, he is only too aware that the concert would never have happened without this Hindu, Mr. Ravi, and that we only have ourselves to blame for the fact that the civilized world had to send troops here to keep us at bay from each other.

Unimaginative people would say that Balasevic has "broken ice", the ice created by those who have nothing but ice in their hearts and porridge for a brain.

Many ties broken off when the war erupted will now be restored. People will start communicating again, even those who paraded in uniforms during the fighting. Never mind them, they have nothing much apart from pure demagogy to offer. It will be remembered that Balasevic was the first to cross "the big river". Everything else was love and affection, expressed in typical Sarajevo fashion. What about the assassination attempt? Balasevic had an answer to that too. "I am not afraid. Even if I had any reason to fear for my life here, it would only make me a real Sarajevo dweller for two days", he said with that winning smile of his.