Our hotel, Kandilj Pansion, was across the river from the old part of the city. To get there, we had to cross the Latinska Cuprija, Latin Bridge, site of the 1914 assassination of the Austro-Hungarian Archduke Franz Ferdinand. His shooting is often billed as one of the events which set off WWI. The bridge was small, just barely wide enough for a car to cross. When we crossed during the day, there were women selling goods, mostly bras, on it. I was thrilled to visit the bridge because of it's role in world history. It's something I had always learned in class, "Archduke Franz Ferdinand, heir to the Austro-Hungarian Empire, was shot on a bridge in Sarajevo." Before I even knew what or where Sarajevo was, I could recite this sentence.
The next morning I ate breakfast in the hotel....with eight guys from Turkey who, through their translator, invited me to drinks or dinner later that evening. They were on their way to Mostar, and I happily declined the invitation by saying that I was going to be needing to wake up early the following morning. They also served me Bosnian tea, which wasn't really special except for that they put tons of sugar in it.
We started the day by taking a tram to the National Museum of Bosnia and Herzegovina. We bought the wrong tickets (for a bus on our side of the river) and had to buy new ones when we boarded the tram....oops! When we got to the museum, we were across the street from the Holiday Inn Hotel. The ugly yellow box of a building was home to journalists during the 1994-5 siege of Sarajevo. The street between the hotel and museum is nicknamed Snipers' Ally: during the war, snipers hung out on the roves of the buildings shooting people who tried to escape the city by way of this main road.
We had come to the museum to see the Sarajevo Haggadah, the oldest Sephardic book of its kind and an illuminated manuscript. It was written/put together in Barcelona in 1530, but came to Sarajevo when Sephardic Jews were kicked out of Spain. The museum was a let down because the book was located in a small room behind glass. A glass case held the book in the center of the enclosed room, meaning we couldn't see anything. An interactive multi-media display let us flip through the book, but in the end, we wound up buying a reproduction copy to read at home. Outside the museum, I wandered through their "botanical garden" which was a small courtyard filled with labeled plants, many of which appeared to be dead or dying. There were also Bosnian tombstones called stechak, which are said to have originated half a millennium ago. They were ornately carved and decorative.
After the museum, we tried again to use our "bad" bus tickets, but we were on the wrong side of the river, so we had to buy new ones. We made our way back to the hotel and then went across to the old city. First we went to see men playing chess in Oslobejnia square, just outside the Serbian Orthodox church. The game was interesting to watch because one man, wearing a sleeveless shirt, was in charge of everything. All of the other men wore coats and layers as they stood in a circle around the chess board. The two men playing the match grabbed their 18-inch- high pieces as they yanked each other's pawns out of the way. The men allowed me to sit on the ground taking pictures. Next we set off to find lunch, first passing the national theater.
We wound up eating at a cafe called Michelle. I had grilled veggies and Mom had a huge calzone stuffed with cheese, turkey and mushrooms (I ate the turkey). We had to share a table because it was crowded. The other man at our table, who didn't speak until we were leaving, had been a refugee in Kentucky. He said he didn't understand much English, but his son was still living there and he was happy to have been outside Sarajevo during the war. An American in army fatigues sat at another table in the cafe. He was with another man (in street clothes) and they were later joined by a man from the Turkish army, in fatigues. I could hear them speaking English, but I'm not sure what their relationship was nor do I know what they were doing there. Later on, we did see a car with NATO license plates driving through the city.
After lunch we went to Markale Market, site of a 1994 bombing. A memorial wall stood at the back of the market, on it were the names of the victims: Serbs, Croats and Bosniaks (Muslims). A man explained the names to us and told us there were 35 deaths and almost 100 injuries. Near the market we found a meat shop which displayed its goods in the window. Through animal noises, I was able to figure out that the 4-foot long side of an animal was "mooo" (beef) and the legs were "bahhh" (lamb).
Next we wandered along the tram tracks to the Jewish Museum and Sephardic Synagogue, built in the 1960s. The synagogue was modern and freezing cold inside (because of stone walls). The museum was added to the synagogue because during the 1994 war all Jewish items were moved to this space. These included lists of Holocaust victims, photos from WWII, and objects explaining Pesach.
Back into the old city, we entered the courtyard of the Bey Mosque, a space open to tourists, in which we were even allowed to take pictures. Then we continued along to the Morica Han, an old inn from the Ottoman period. We were able to see the courtyard, but the inside has been converted into restaurants and cafes.
We spent some time shopping and browsing in the old city. Mom bought a shawl from a nonprofit which sells works made by Bosnian women. Money from the sales goes to rebuilding efforts in their villages and each piece comes with a tag telling stating where and by whom it was made.
After our shopping stop, we went to the Pigeon Fountain and old town hall building, which is still in ruins. Then we crossed the river and walked by the Sarajevo brewery on our way to Saint Anthony's Church. The red building was decorated with modern paintings, statues, and stained glass. There was no holy water on the premises, but we were able to purchase a candle for Mom to light.
After a rest at the hotel, we went back out, stopping first to pick up some snacks for our early morning journey to Belgrade. Then we went back to Markale where we bought some fruit just as the stands were closing. We were on our way to a restaurant behind the market. Karuzo specialized in fish and vegetarian dishes, a rarity in the meat-filled Balkans. The place was small, and most people inside were foreigners (and women) - a few Americans and a mother-daughter pair from Scandinavia. We each had a glass of red wine from KOSOVO! I didn't know they produced wine, but it was really good. For dinner, I had red risotto - tomato sauce, zucchini and shrimp - while Mom ordered fruit and tofu risotto - chopped pieces of tofu, broccoli, carrots, eggplant, peppers, pears and raisins. It was an interesting combination of sweet and savory, but the spices were dead on and this was probably one of the best dishes we had all trip. During the dinner, I ran a small Passover Seder for us. We read from an abridged version of the haggah and didn't have matzoh (I'm allergic to it anyway), but it was still really nice to be able to celebrate. It was also probably the shortest Seder either of us had ever been to, especially considering that there were only two of us. We certainly did not do all four cups of wine: we wanted to be able to find the hotel again. We did do the ten plagues and read through Dayenu. I had originally wanted to attend a Seder in Belgrade or Sofia. I had even contacted Chabbad organizations there. However, with the change in dates because Mom's flight being delayed, we were not able to make it to either of those cities by Passover. I didn't think we'd even be able to have a Passover Seder, so this was a pleasant surprise.
