I have quite a few Sarajevo stories bouncing around my head that I have wanted to record on this blog along with their corresponding snapshots; however, since December I have been distracted by…other things.
Regular installments will return soon, with the next one featuring public defecation behind a bombed out car and razor-wire-shredded clothing, but for now here is one of my favorite pics.
I think what strikes me about this one is how the Olympic torch is supposed to be a powerful symbol of peace, of nations putting aside their differences to come together in friendly competition. Yet here, just a decade after the Sarajevo Winter Games, the torch was a tragic reminder of innocence lost, standing amidst the machines of war and a devastated Olympic sports complex that was now a base of operations for an occupying army.
On the left, we have a Turkish tank, ironic considering that Sarajevo (Saraj Ovas or “Castle Field” in Turkish) was occupied by the Ottoman Empire until 1878. On the right, a British Royal Engineer works dangerously close to twisted coils of razor wire. In the foreground, overgrown greenery hides a dangerous minefield, and in the background sit the hills from which sniper fire and mortar rounds rained down for years.
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