Bosnia part 1 - My ridiculous trip
So many adventures have happened to me in Bosnia that I had to separate it all into three texts. Here is the first part, where I begin to realize the futility of my journey.
Lana, Dalibor, Natasa and Snezna.
I had camped the day before about fifteen kilometers from the border. It is therefore in the morning that I easily go through customs to enter Bosnia-Herzegovina. I'm going on the right side, there are miles of waiting to get out!
As I walk away from customs, I notice police everywhere. They all greet me, visibly happy, giving me thumbs up. I stop to speak to one of them to ask him what they are doing there. He tells me (in Serbian *) that they are guarding the secondary roads leading to the border. I give him a face of "It must be long!" "... he gives me a" yes "face.
I stop shortly after in a cafe and start talking to Lana and Natasa. Shortly after, their friend Dalibor arrives and as I am now in the gang, we go to eat elsewhere, then we go to another cafe, then go for a walk. In short, it's 16pm when I start driving again to save my day!
Cevapi, a typical dish, which is basically a semi-detached hot dog.
I will have learned a lot during these few hours. I find that the dearest wish of my new friends is to leave their country, as many of their families and friends have managed to do. But it's not easy. Most of the time, only visiting a country as a tourist requires a visa. I realize how lucky we are to have a good passport.
One of the girls chose to study nursing because that is what you are looking for in other countries. The other would like to leave too but feels guilty because she has a job.
My job doesn't pay much, but at least I have one, half of the young people don't.
I will learn later that the rate of young people not working is rather by almost 60%. It is the highest in the world! My bike trip suddenly seems quite futile and ridiculous in the face of their situation. I have maslow pyramid on your mind.
Further on, seeing people outside a house, I stop to ask for water. No problem, the patriarch then begins to pump his external water pump. While eating desserts offered to me, I show them my itinerary on my inflatable globe. I will soon realize that it is also at the external pump that the dishes and the toilet are done.
People are very kind and generous to me, but more often than not the language barrier is more difficult. I learn a few words here and there to try to explain my trip. Engleska, Vietnam, Yet na godina (one year) ...
That evening, I will set up my tent on the first floor of a house for sale, without it being finished. All along the way in Bosnia I will notice the abandonment of buildings, often without even incomplete. Some are in ruins, others still look almost new. It is difficult to know exactly what happened to each of these buildings. Many of the inhabitants surely left very quickly during the war in the 90s, and never returned. Perhaps some homeowners died and the houses were never completed.
Later, I will learn that many of these abandoned houses contained mines that were active after the war. “It should be okay now though. I am told.
Bulk reflections
I'm slightly worried that people are starting to ask me how much my bike is worth. Further in Bosnia, I will learn that it is rather due to their great curiosity than to the fact that they want to steal it from me.
I think I am back in the 50s. I see a lot of people working their plots by hand, scything their grass, and owning a few cattle on a leash near the house. Most people are quite old.
I see in the eyes of the children that they find it incredible to see an adult pass by on a bicycle, and who obviously goes further than to the market. Several older men, however, look at me with a look of "what are you doing there youngster, so go and work instead". Regardless, I wave to everyone equally.
People are smoking everywhere. Hotels, restaurants, houses. As much as possible, I stay outside.
A cow as a domestic animal, why not.
A Lada as a police car.
Despite the abandonment of houses, and the countless departures from the country, Bosnia has a lot to offer and is slowly recovering from the terrible war that took place from 1992 to 1995. I will tell you shortly about this last one, about my crossing of the mountainous center of country, and my visit to the beautiful capital, Sarajevo.
* Note: Serbian, Croatian, Bosnian, and the languages of other Balkan countries, are all dialects of the same language. Serbian can be written in Cyrillic or Latin and some areas pronounce a little differently, but they pretty much all understand each other. For my part, needless to say that I do not understand any!
