Bosnia reflections – Part 1 … Rebuilding after a war

A government office building in 1999 and after reconstruction in 2009.

A government office building in 1999 and after reconstruction in 2009.

Actually this is probably more like part 1000 for Bosnia itself. But it is part one of three blogs I am going to post this week reflecting on my experience in Bosnia in the past several years. The opening of the Winter Olympics in Russia may have spurred some of this thought since the Olympics in 1984 were in Sarajevo.  So much has happened there since then.

I first went to Bosnia in March 1998. I remember flying into the airport in Sarajevo and looking down at rooftops of houses blown off by war. Others were new and bright orange tile. You could see where things had been somewhat repaired.  But the view told the story of a country torn apart by war.

The photos of Syria which have circulated on the internet this past week have reminded me of what I saw in Bosnia. And I was there about 18 months after the war had officially ended.  There were still some tanks on the streets and roads and bridges were broken down. Some cities looked like…a war zone.

I took some photos in 1998 and sent them back to the Kingston Whig Standard with an article, one of my first for the newspaper. They suggested that I get some people in the photo for “interest”. The photos were of bombed out houses and deserted desecrated neighbourhoods where no people now lived.  They missed the point.

Zetra - the Olympic arena in 1984

Zetra – the Olympic arena in 1984

The stadium in the centre of Sarajevo that hosted the 1984 Winter Olympics was in ruins. The fields surrounding it turned into graveyards.

So many of my photos of those early trips to Bosnia were of war damage. And it was everywhere.

Digital photography was quite new then and my camera

1984 Olympic fields transformed into graveyards after the Bosnian war.

1984 Olympic fields transformed into graveyards after the Bosnian war.

was a state-of-the-art point and shoot 1 megapixel camera. You likely have 5 times that on your phone now.  So the photos are grainy.  But I think they make the point.

Over the 11 years I worked and lived in Bosnia I saw a lot of change.  It took a while but new buildings sprang up – mosques tended to be the first to appear.  The people in Sarajevo, who all wore black and looked very sad on my first few visits, gradually became more animated and even smiled.  Some of the buildings that stood as monuments to war were refurbished into shiny new buildings, the windows replaced and the pock-marks on the walls from grenades gradually filled in.

The appearance was that Bosnia was slowly recovering.  Unfortunately, underlying ethnic tensions were not too far below the surface and often led to problems of governance.  It is hard to forget war.

My last trip to Bosnia was in 2009.  New buildings were springing up along the main thoroughfare in Sarajevo.  Glass and escalators, clothes from Italy and flat-screen TV’s.  On the surface it looked like things were recovering.

Looks can be deceiving. It takes more than new buildings to recover from war.

In March '98 I stayed in an apartment near the centre of Sarajevo. There were bullet holes in the wood floor and on the walls. The view out the street was of a hill, most buildings damaged.  By 2008, these had been restored.

In March ’98 I stayed in an apartment near the centre of Sarajevo. There were bullet holes in the wood floor and on the walls. The view out the street was of a hill, most buildings damaged. By 2008, these had been restored.

Later we stayed in a house on the west side of town. At the bottom of the hill was the "front line" during the war.  I was always intrigued by this house which was eventually torn down and replaced.

Later we stayed in a house on the east side of town. At the bottom of the hill was the “front line” during the war. I was always intrigued by this house which was eventually torn down and replaced.

This neighbourhood was particularly hard hit. It was uninhabitable in 1998 but by 2006, the buildings had been restored and it appeared like a "normal" neighbourhood street.

This neighbourhood was particularly hard hit. It was uninhabitable in 1998 but by 2006, the buildings had been restored and it appeared like a “normal” neighbourhood street.

The Newspaper office on the main street was demolished (although it continued to operate out of the basement throughout the war.  Eventually the frame was used to construct an office tower..with a revolving restaurant on the top.

The Newspaper office on the main street was demolished (although it continued to operate out of the basement throughout the war). Eventually the frame was used to construct an office tower..with a revolving restaurant on the top.

Bosnia reflections, Part 2 … People

Earlier this week I posted photos of how the buildings and streetscapes changed during the time I worked in Bosnia from 1998 to 2009. Over those years I also got to know and become friends with many people, Serbs, Croats and Bosniaks alike – Muslims and Catholics and Orthodox and agnostics.

I watched them recover slowly from the trauma of war.

I heard horrendous stories and visited places that made me weep.

I shared lots of smiles, laughs and good food Bosnian beer with the people I worked with, Bosnians and Canadians and other internationals.

But I also got to know some of the people in the neighborhood. There was a bakery at the base of the hill where we lived and every Saturday morning I looked forward to walking down the hill and buying a freshly baked apple (jabuka) turnover to eat with my coffee and the Globe and Mail crossword I could download onto my laptop. The young man who was behind the counter was always there. Always. He spoke little English and I knew only enough Bosnian to say good morning and ask for my bread. Over the years I watched him grow up, covered in flour and serving up bread at the bakery. We exchanged greetings in the store. He, no doubt, was watching me age as well.

hljeb then and now

There were also two little waifs who lived in a house just below ours. My understanding was that their family were refugees, squatting in a house that had been abandoned by people who fled during the war.

Semir and Kiko with toques that I brought for them from Canada.

Semir and Kiko with toques that I brought for them from Canada.

I am proud to say that kids generally like me. And these two little fellows were no exception. They would come together early in the morning and ring the buzzer at my door. I would take them to the market and sometimes buy them something small. Once I took them to a restaurant and bought them each a slice of pizza and a coke. I remember them sitting there like they were princes and thinking that they may never have eaten in a restaurant like this.

Once I was cooking on our barbecue and realized that I and no flipper for the burgers. The kids were hanging around and they saw that I had no utensil to turn the burgers.  They disappeared and within about five minutes returned with a nice new barbecue spatula. I suspect that they swiped it from somewhere. They reminded me of the Artful Dodger.

One of the neighbourhood photos that the kids took with my camera.

One of the neighbourhood photos that the kids took with my camera.

One winter I loaned them my digital camera to take a few photos. I would see the neighborhood through their eyes. When I got the camera back I found they had taken it inside their house. There was their mother sitting under a blanket in bed beside an oven door open for heat, and smoking a cigarette with an ashtray of butts on the floor beside the bed. Out of respect for her privacy I have never printed that photo but I look at it and smile.

One year when I returned the family had moved away. Occasionally I would see the mother at a bus stop or the kids in the schoolyard. A few years later I chanced upon one of them, a teenager now, working in a local garden.

I wonder what became of those kids. I hope they are doing OK but they may be part of the large proportion of young Bosnians who are unemployed, disgruntled and fed up with their lot.  There is growing unrest among the unemployed and disadvantaged in Bosnia and last week it boiled over into anti-government protests in several Bosnian cities.

Semir grown up. Where is he now. He would be about 21 now.

Semir grows up. Where is he now? He would be about 21 now.

Frosty morning in Kingston

I couldn’t resist bundling up and taking my camera down to the lake shore in front of my apartment building early this morning. It was a frigid -17C but the sun was trying to break through and the wind was whistling fine snow over the breakwater.  Stunning.

Winter 3a

WinterWinter 2

Winter 5

Alone but far from lonely …

20140121-111743.jpgDoes anyone know any good songs that actually celebrate living solo? I can only think of songs like “One is the Lonliest” or “All by myself” or “Lonely boy”. Even the pop songs that have a more positive tone to them are more “give love the finger” songs like “I will survive” or that iconic Cher dance tune ” Do you believe in life after love?” (after love, after love, after love)

Recently, on CBC radio, there were two programs that dealt with people living alone. According to last year’s census, 27.6% of households (over 3.5 million of them in Canada) have a single occupant and there are more people living alone than coupled with children.  I suspect that many of you reading this blog are living solo.

Sometimes that is by choice, other times by circumstance, but the reality is that there are more people living on their own than in coupled relationships. So why is it that our society is so couple-oriented? People who live alone are stigmatized as being reclusive or lonely or waiting for that “perfect” relationship to make them whole.

Maybe some are, but I suspect that many, like me, are 100% satisfied to be independent, flexible and downright happy to be living on their own. When I was younger, I would not have imagined this would be how I might be living now, maybe because that was simply not something one aspired to in the 60’s.

My circumstance is a bit different than some. I did follow the conventional formula toward marriage and parenthood but my life changed when my wife died of cancer in her 40’s. I did have the chance to follow the societal (and biological) drives to partner and procreate.  My relationship was a happy one until illness intervened. My kids now have children of their own and I enjoy being a grandfather (and watching my own kids relive some of the parenting moments that are now past for me.)

For the past 19 years, however, I have lived alone but I am seldom lonely.  I do what I want when I want. I wake up and eat and go to bed whenever I feel like it. I spend my evenings doing whatever I feel like doing.  I can pick up and travel at the drop of a hat. I have many interesting and energizing friends of all sorts, male and female, old and young, gay and straight, single and partnered. I am almost giddy thinking how great this is.

Many young adults today seem to be embracing the single life and deferring steady relationships until later than ever…or not at all. Mature adults may find themselves living alone because they have chosen that path or the “right person” has not come along to make a long-term bond. Or they may have tried the marriage thing, only to find it was not as satisfying as Chatelaine magazine made it out to be.

It’s time that our society acknowledges that “living solo” is a perfectly natural choice for many.

Last year, a Facebook friend posted this Rolling Stones YouTube video and commented that for some reason it reminded her of me.  Was it because I am sliver-thin and dance like a Howdy Doody puppet or is it the theme? (Got to get me one of those hats.)

Addendum

In response to this I  had a friend suggest this one.  It fits perfectly.

Desks to schools in Kenya…

I put many hours a week into the CanAssist African Relief Trust. Sometimes I wonder why I do it.  Today I received an email that reminded me.

Last year CanAssist received an application from a development group in Kenya asking for support in providing desks for three schools in Rachuonyo District near Homa Bay.  We did not know the schools or the AFORD development organization but thought that they presented an organized appeal and, in the past, we have found provision of school desks to be satisfying.  Not only do the children of the schools receive furnishings to help them learn better, the desks are locally made which gives carpenters and suppliers some income.

In December, I visited some elementary schools in Canada and they have donated about $1000 toward the $5000 needed to build 170 desks that will serve 450 students.

Last month I asked the school for some photos of the school so we could help promote this project.  Today I received these grainy photos taken recently at two of the schools. I will let them speak for themselves.  I think you will agree that they are heartbreaking.  Although the Kenyan Ministry of Education does offer “free” education to elementary school students, this is the quality in some of the remote districts.

The Kamser Elementary School.  Crowded conditions not conducive to learning. There are 450 students at two schools like this one and they are requesting 150 bench desks to accommodate the students, many of whom sit on the floor.

The Kamser Elementary School. Crowded conditions not conducive to learning. There are 450 students at two schools like this one and they are requesting 150 bench desks to accommodate the students, many of whom sit on the floor.

Photo3_Kamser primary 2

Students at the Kamser Secondary School.  This school requests 20 individual desks.

Students at the Kamser Secondary School. This school requests 20 individual desks.

Our Kenyan field representative, Dan Otieno, will visit the schools sometime in the next month and we hope we can to move ahead with the funding and construction of new desks very soon.  If you would like to help with this, CanAssist appreciates gifts of any size. The average cost per bench desk will be about $40. Can you afford to donate one? (or two would be nice.)

donateNow2b1

Walking on the beach

There is nothing more exhilarating for me then walking on a deserted beach by the sea. This morning on longboat key it is much cooler than yesterday. Early this morning not many people ventured out onto the beach. But it was gorgeous! A cool north wind, bright sky, crashing waves, vast expanses of sandy beach and no one else there but me and one brave seagull. See for yourself.

20140103-103532.jpg

20140103-103554.jpg

20140103-103610.jpg

20140103-103625.jpg

20140103-103639.jpg

20140103-103651.jpg

20140103-103716.jpg

20140103-103852.jpg

Movies, movies, movies

There are always a rash of new movies that come out over the Christmas period. One of my holiday treats to myself is to indulge in seeing a few. Here is my quick take on the ones I have seen.

image

Gravity is a visually stunning piece that reminded me a bit of 2001 A Space Odyssey many years ago but with all the additions that 21st-century technology can add to a film. I do recommend that you see it on a big screen and in 3-D to get the full effect. Generally I am not a big fan of 3-D. I often find it is almost distracting but in this case it is used both subtly -with the exception of the obligatory few objects hurling at you from space – and to good effect. The movie has lots of very creative special-effects and it was not hard to watch Sandra Bullock flounder around in space,struggling to survive, for an hour and a half. After seeing the Wolf of Wall Street a couple days before, it was a relief to have only one F-bomb and after all, in her situation we felt that she deserved it.

imageI found All is Lost starring Robert Redford to be pretty, well, boring. I couldn’t seem to believe that a 77-year-old man could have the hair of the 25-year-old, so that squelched the credibility of the whole thing for me. I was waiting (hoping) for it to come loose when he was swimming underwater. And he could hold his breath for two minutes under the sea after 8 days without food or any fresh water without seeming to have any problem. That is acting.  I wondered why he was even out there in the first place. These two  struggle-for-survival movies had very similar themes.  Gravity was much more fun to watch. If there was something existential about either of them it went over my head.

The Wolf of Wall Street certainly has been the most controversial release recently. You either love it or hate it. People who hate it are often people who haven’t even seen it.  It puzzles me how people who have not seen a piece of theater or art can actually give an informed  commentary on its value. I saw it, however, and so I will tell you what I think.

The movie is three hours long.image The first hour was mildly amusing and had some really good, and funny moments. I was most impressed by the 10 minutes that Matthew McConaughey was on the screen.images-1 He gave an amazing supporting role performance as a coke-snorting, chest-pounding mentor for Jordan Belfort (Leonardo Dicaprio). I also enjoyed McConaughy’s performance in The Dallas Buyers Club.  He deserves accolades for his work in 2013.

The second hour of Wolf of Wall Street became tedious. We got the point -non-stop drugs, depravity, greed, hookers, gratuitous sex and swindling trade deals. Enough already. The language was vulgar both in the words used and the thoughts expressed.

By the third hour, I was not amused at all. There was one scene when Belfort is so stoned that he can hardly crawl to his car, slobbering spit and rolling down a flight of stairs. This has been described by some reviewers as slapstick. In a different circumstance it would have been funny but I was actually annoyed at the woman behind me for laughing at it. Did she not see how pathetic this character was?

imageBut then I wondered if this was not the point. The novelty had worn off and all the amoral indulgence and self-serving neglect for the feelings of anyone else that had been curious at first had become vulgar and hollow and distasteful. It was actually vulgar and hollow and distasteful all along but for some reason we are initially amused by it.

This movie is not for everyone and I would not recommend it unless you want to see just how depraved people can get, caught up in the pursuit of money. I can’t say I enjoyed it but I am glad that I went to see it as it will be a topic of conversation for some time to come. The theatre, by the way, was full, making us all feel like the poor victims that had fallen prey to Belfort’s almost evangelistic sales pitches. We lined up to buy tickets to sit through three hours of feeling both titilated and disgusted.

imageNext on the list was Saving Mr. Banks. I knew that I would like this one before I went and was not disappointed. Like so many movies (including Wolf of Wall Street) it is based on a true story, this one about how Disney persisted to get the rights to the Mary Poppins movie. But it turned out to be much more than that.

The movie was a surprisingly testament to what fathers and daughters do for/to each other. Maybe because I am from the Disney World era or, more likely because I am the father of two daughters, I found this movie touching and heart-warming. Tom Hanks reincarnates the avuncular Walt Disney that I remember from the days of black and white TV and Emma Thompson is perfect as the cranky British author with more baggage than the Mary Poppins valise she carries. No problem recommending this one to anyone.
QUAD_PHILOMENA-1024x768

The movie that I think will be the dark horse this year, overtaking the rest to be the favorite, is Philomena. I saw this at TIFF in September but it is just hitting the theatres now. Judi Dench is a delight to watch and the story is captivating. This is not a blockbuster. It is a good old-fashioned story with characters you care about that is told well and leaves you feeling satisfied. No spoilers.   A movie that everyone will enjoy.  Put it on the top of your list and watch it shine at award time.

Whoops!

imageI didn’t realize that I was singing so loudly as I walked along the beach this morning until the people 50 metres ahead of me turned around to see what the noise was all about. I had my earphones in and was singing ” If you can’t be with the one you love, love the one you’re with.” I had thought that the light wind and the sound of the waves would overwhelm my voice but I guess I was wrong. I hoped that they didn’t think I was referring to them.

It reminded me of an incident that happened to me in 1987 in  Toronto. I know the date because the Skydome was just starting construction. My wife, Barb, and I had taken disco dancing lessons when we lived in Kincardine and with friends, Nick and Jackie Harvey, we had gone to Toronto to check out the discos. We went to a disco at the top of the CN Tower -flashing lights, dry ice smoke and all.

On the way out I was happily singing one of the songs that we had been dancing to. It was Donna Summer’s version of “She works hard for the money”. I was well into the chorus as we walked past a young couple kissing in the corridor on the way to the elevator down. But I guess he had heard me and thought that I was referring to his girlfriend.

When we got to the ground floor and where heading back out to get a taxi I heard someone behind me yelling “Hey f<%*head”. Not thinking he was referring to me – this is not my usual name – I continued along toward the exit. Eventually I turned around. Imagine my surprise to see that this muscular 6 foot 3  20-year-old was yelling at me. He came up to me and grabbed me by the lapels of my new gray ultrasuede jacket and lifted me partway off the ground. Nick seemed ready to take them on but I was worried about getting blood (mine) on my new jacket.

Luckily his girlfriend came to my rescue with “Oh, leave him alone. He’s just a wimp.”  I quickly ascertained that my  choice was between being called “F<%*head” or a wimp. I nodded agreement with the girlfriend and chose wimp.

I have never walk past the CN Tower or heard that song without thinking of this Toronto evening.  The ultrasuede jacket still hangs in my closet waiting to come back into style.

Airports

As sit in the airport in Syracuse waiting for the flight that will take me to Florida for New Years I realize that it is a good thing that I like airports. In fact, I LOVE airports. In addition to holiday destinations, in the past 15 years, my work has taken me to Europe and Africa and I have logged hundreds of thousands of miles in planes of all sizes. I have spent more time in airports than Edward Snowden.

imageAlthough I can not get off a ladder onto a garage roof without feeling dizzy or panicked, I am a totally relaxed flyer. Once my bags are checked and I have my boarding pass, I love to sit and watch those little golf carts push planes out onto the tarmac or stroll through duty free shops or electronics shops. I have shopped more in airports than anywhere else. This trip, I don’t even have a boarding pass. All my information is on one if those little boxes of dots on my phone.

In the last 15 years I have spent time in airports in London, Paris, Vienna, Amsterdam, Frankfurt, Munich, Glasgow, Manchester, Shannon, Zagreb, Sarajevo, Split, Dubrovnik, Ljubljana, Venice, Barcelona, Istanbul, Tel Aviv, Rome, Bologna, Milan, Brussels, Nairobi, Entebbe, Dar es Salaam, Kilimanjaro, Mombasa, Kisumu, Minneapolis, Boston, Atlanta, Syracuse, Sarasota, Raleigh, New York, Tampa, St Petersburg, San Francisco, Los Angeles, Vancouver, Victoria, Toronto, Montreal, Thunder Bay, Halifax and Kingston.

Most of this travel has been by myself. But in airports you are never alone. I have slept overnight on a bench in YYZ with no one else around but the cleaners, been bitten by bedbugs in the Yotel in AMS and drunk champagne in the lounge in LHR. I can’t imagine how many times I have shown my passport, taken off my belt and shoes or how many hours I have stood in line. I have had flights delayed, cancelled and rebooked. I have ended up bumped to another flight because of a pilot strike and then found myself in the connecting airport in Munich without an onward ticket. I have waited on standby and have run through Heathrow with my bags and an Air Canada employee to get to a flight that was leaving immediately. I have stood with my nose against the glass at the departure area and watched as my flight pulled away from the gate. Last year in Barcelona I got a free night in the city and 500 euros when I gave up my seat in an overbooked flight. I have physically bumped into Pavarotti at a Duty Free shop. My baggage has been lost about half a dozen times but always shows up eventually. I have stopped trying to overcome jet lag. I just endure it. I have collected a lot of air miles. In fact, I paid for this trip to Florida with Skymiles and $10.40 in fees.

I am addicted to travel. I consider myself a global citizen. Before I get home from one trip I am already planning the next. I realize how lucky I have been to experience the world in this way and am also a little embarrassed about my carbon footprint. I rationalize that the work I did in Bosnia and continue to do in Africa is helpful to others.

My flight is being announced.  On to the huge Atlanta airport and then to warm, friendly, Sarasota.

image