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I found myself sitting at a table on the terrace of a restaurant
overlooking the river on a warm July evening. There I sat
enjoying a nice cold beer with the three companions I made
this journey with earlier in the day. It sounds like the typical
backpacker scenario. River, outdoor restaurant, beer, travel
buddies, they all seem quite synonymous with the excursions
of a backpacker.
Well this particular excursion was a bit different for me
as the river was the Neretva, the beer was Sarajevsko
Pivo and that morning's journey was through the war-ravaged
Hercegovinian countryside. This was Mostar, Bosnia-Hercegovina,
a city blown to bits during the Muslim-Croat fighting in the
mid-90s and with an outer image giving one the impression
that the war in fact had only ended the day before.
Here I was amongst the mangled beams and twisted steel that
was once a library. Here I sat down to eat where the rocket
holes are more numerous than the tourists and the old Turkish
bridge now resides at the bottom of the river it once so eloquently
spanned. But in the midst of this destruction I found myself
in one of the most serene and beautiful settings that I have
ever encountered and it has forever changed my life. It was
a setting that when thought of still produces chills that
run up and down my spine.
On this particular warm July evening the moon was out in full
and hovering above the Kujundziluk (Old Turkish Quarter).
Directly in front of me was the Neretva with its pristine
waters rushing past from left to right and the reflection
of the moon staying forever in its middle. Behind this most
graceful river sat the damaged and partially razed buildings
on ul. Marsala Tita, mysteriously silhouetted by the moonlight.
To my right were the remnants of the old Stari Most,
lit up by the moon and resembling a pair of bookends with
nothing in between.
So there I was gazing out across this quiet and melancholic
setting created by the wonders of nature and the horrors of
war when the Muslim call to prayer came on from the mosque
across the river. A feeling of peace and contentment filled
my body as I sat there mesmerised by the beauty entering my
ears. Each word carried not only a harmonious note and a holy
message but also the sound of hundreds of years of history
and the assertion that despite being in the midst of so much
destruction, not even war can crush the spirit of a proud
people. As the beautiful prayer echoed throughout the town
I could almost feel the rejuvenation occurring in front of
my eyes. The spirit of these words and the tragic beauty of
the scenery left an impression on my heart and mind that I
will never forget.
I'm just happy I was there to experience it, sitting on that
restaurant terrace overlooking the river and enjoying a beer
with my travel buddies in the typical backpacker scenario!
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Travel Writers: Rise to the Occasion by
Mark Teramae