One of the war consequences…

I moved in the Birmingham. And was surprised to see how many extreme Muslims are living in that city. I did not saw so many totally covered females and so much males dressed in Arab/Muslim way even in Sarajevo where 90% of the population is Muslim.
That in the way would not be so big deal if there is no this war consequences in me. So from the moment I moved here I started to get increasinly nervous. I took me almost a month to realise why. Every time I would go to the city and saw those extreme Muslims all those emotions I experienced during war started to come back. I’m literarily getting more and more scared. Of course, I’m keeping telling myself that neither of those people I see was not involved in the war in my country. But my subconscious does not wish to listen. I am afraid that I will have to go to counsellor. These emotions just keep increasing and I’m really close to my limit. I decided this weekend to stay at home and watch Stargate. I’m trying to relax and put this under control.
All of this is a bit disappointing. The war finished more then decade ago, and I still struggle with these war consequences. As time passes by I really, really believe that there is absolutely no excuse for war. It messes up the people, it messes up countries, and it messes up life.
And on top of everything there is this idiot who got arrested. When I heard about it, my first emotion was huge disappointment. I was hoping that this guy was forced to spend this last decade somewhere hiding in some basement or at least that he was dead. I hoped that he did not live those years. Somehow I thought that was fair, because he stole five years of my life, heck, from every person in the Bosnia.
I never wished war, but I had to live trough it. I still suffer consequence from it. And to learn that one of the bastards who were responsible for that was living normal life was really huge blow. The second reason for the disappointment is that his arrest actually mean all this war shit, all that satanizing of Serbs will start again. So when people ask me about my opinion I usually answer that I wish that he dies, so that trail does not take place. I wish to continue with my life. I do not wish to be reminded of the war.

So in the way both of these things now increase my nervousness and fear. I stopped to watch news; I do not wish to see anything connected with the war.
For the last decade I was working hard to make something of my life, to minimize the destruction war left on my life. And now, when I’m at the brink of the success (I actually started to get a job offer from respectable scientific institution across the world) I’m forced again to relive something I never caused, never was guilty of, never wished to live trough. Not only that I had to live trough the hells of war, but also later, when I faced the foreigners - the people who just heard the politically colored news about Bosnian war – I had to face judgement and accusation, just because of my ethnicity.

So I grow tired of explaining what I believe that is real cause of the war in Bosnia. The answer is actually very, very simple. But forgotten and buried below all those nationalistic and religion crap. The true was that in former SFRJ economical situation declined from late 70th of last century. Approximately at that time economy in country stopped progress and communist ‘economical planning’ caused that situation slowly became worse. In the years before war unemployment was so high that some bands made pop songs of which topic was desperate search for any kind of job. But since economy did not grow for decades before that there were simply no jobs. And of course, it is always simpler to put blame to those ‘others’. That is unfortunately in human nature. And that opened a road for all those blood-sucking politicians to increase ethnicity and religion tensions and ultimately start the war.

So that’s why I believe war started.

And now I have to face it again. I really have no idea how I will survive if I have to be here in Birmingham when that trial starts. I’m really worried, because I have no idea how to control my fear – caused with those war memories and experiences – if that fear is fuelled with all those war reminiscences. At the moment, when I’m walking on the Birmingham streets, I’m trying to keep my eyes on the pavement in front of me and I’m walking fast. That way I’m keeping probabilities that I will be reminded of war on the minimum.

I’m just afraid that’s loosing battle.

September 1993

So the war continued. In 1993 we were already sick of it. And start to wonder when it will end. Then there was news that international community suggested certain peace agreement and that the end of war is in sight. The proposal was to give around 60% of territory to Serbs, without Sarajevo. As I remember we all thought that is grand deal and wished to accept it.
No one in Banjaluka or surrounding areas did not saw the point of losing lives because one silly city.
Then in September, our town was once more flooded with the army. One morning I woke up and again there was the army on the streets. One of the explanation offered to us was that the 16th battalion rebelled against the Karadzic’s decision to refuse the peace proposal. I know I was happy to hear that, because this battalion was the largest and the majority of the soldiers in it did came from Banjaluka region. So we all waited to hear what would happen.
Three days later soldiers went away. And the peace agreement was refused. The rumours said that Karadzic bought the commanding officers of the battalion so they terminated the rebellion.
Then my brother came home and said that he heard different story. The battalion was set into the town to capture some deserters.

It is a bit ridiculous that took me almost more than decade to find out the truth. And I found it out outside Bosnia. At the time when larges Serbian centre, Banjaluka, was occupied by Serbian army, international community and representatives believed that referendum was taking place, the referendum in which people were supposed to decide about the acceptance of peace agreement. And until today the international community believes that referendum took place.
It never did.
It wasn’t even mentioned.
I’m still angry because of that. We, people wished the peace and were willing to accept the agreement. But no one asked us. No one even told us that our opinion matters. No, our ‘lovely’ leaders asked us to continue dying while they controlled the black market.

And during this time I was physically threatened. I was in one of the largest shops in town, called Boska, when some armed soldiers from the battalion came into the shop. Few meters of me there was newspaper boy. Actually the young man, but he was disabled and therefore never went to army. Soldiers started to pick on him, to tear his newspapers and to push him around. I could not just stand aside and watch. I approached them and start to yell at the soldiers that they should be ashamed for what they doing. One of them attacked me, physically. I wasn’t his match. There was no way I could even slightly hurt him. So I started to cry and continue telling all of them that we thought that they suppose to defend us, not attack us, us who cannot defend ourselves. After those words other soldiers dragged the soldier who attacked me away. And some shop staff took me away to help me. Later I heard that one of the soldiers came back and paid the damage to the disabled newspaper boy.

Even today I do not like armies and soldiers. Once I was discussing this sentiment of mine with a UK soldier. He insisted that not all soldiers are bad. Yeah, I agree they are not. But it takes just few bad ones to do the damage. And I have no intention to let any soldier close to me anymore to find out is he/she good or bad.

First horrors

Around that time my first cousin came home, the one who was in the Croatia when the first trouble started. He was finally back home. After troubles started in Croatia, he ended up in the army barrack under siege in Zadar, from 1991 until March 1992. In March 1992 Croats finally allowed barrack to be evacuated, so soldiers from that barrack were retreated in Sarajevo. And of course, Sarajevo exploded just one month later. So my cousin was trapped there too. Again under siege. Only in 1993 he finally managed to come back to his family. And then he decided to visit all relatives who were still around. So he came to visit us too.
His stories about fighting were the first ones I ever heard from the war. After seeing so many films with all those special effects, stories my cousin told were nothing special. The worst part was total lack of the emotions in him. He was describing killing other humans, as he would describe a route to a picnic site.
What I did not know then was that at the end of the war I would have same coldness and indifference towards killing as he did.

Another blow

Since I was kid I dreamed of becoming the astronaut. Today I got another blow.
Right now there is an opening for the job at ESA, and guess what?
I have wrong nationality.
I do tick all other boxes and that makes me even more bitter.

Dating

That period is somehow all dark in my memory. Like one big night. That winter mother of my friend, Dragana, had stroke. She survived, but she ended up as invalid.
One night few of us girls decided to take Dragana out, so that she can relax. There was police curfew in the place so our going out had to be finished before 10pm. We had to be in our houses at that time. Military police tended to shoot the people after that hour. Not nice prospect.
Anyway, that evening was my introduction to the wartime dating. We meet some pilots. Those were the only military men who you could find in town. The one who found me interesting was, in my opinion ugly, so the only reason why I accepted the date was because of my friend Silvana, who hooked up with his gunman.
This pilot, Zlatko, had rank of major at the time and he was piloting the helicopter. The only other member of his crew, the gunman was the man who was actually puling the trigger when they were flying.
I had at that time still the reminds of my ideals intact so I could not even think to date a man who kills other humans.
We went out twice, and both times it was double date. Both times he and his gunman were showing off, like little boys demonstrating how strong and big they are. That was too much for me. I was anyway scared and confused. No one ever told me how a civilian supposes to live in the war. All I know about war were those silly fact repeated in the books and films.
Then Zlatko asked me to have sex with him and that was it. I said no. Dragana and Silvana could not understand how I could reject a ‘Major’ so I invented some silly story that I saw him kissing the other woman. That story was acceptable as reason for terminating the dating.
After that I just faded into background. I did not wished to date. First there was this constant struggle to find enough food and fuel for heating, second the very idea of kissing a man who literarily just killed someone I found repulsive. And third I was scared that if I actually start to love a man he’d die in battle.
Dragana and Silvana enjoyed the fact that they could go to bed with the guy who will simply physically go away and will not make them any problems if they decide to sleep with someone else. So they used all this opportunities as much as possible. Now I believed that Dragana was using all that as the form of the escape. She was the oldest child in family with 4 kids. And her parents divorced just before the war. Her father was away in Germany. And then the only person who was caring about them became invalid.
So I was spending my days practicing the martial arts and self-defence while those two girls with whom I grow up were busy doing other things.
At that time I decided to try to find some decent way to earn the money. So I took the notebooks about astrology Darko left me and started to learn how to make a horoscope. I knew that I will sell ‘the fog’ but to me being ‘astrologist’ sounded much more decent and acceptable than sleeping around for food and money.
It took me 3 months to learn how to make horoscope.

That early spring siege was finally broken and I sold my first horoscope. Things started to look up.

First war winter

And then first war winter knocked on our doors.
The city was sort of under siege. There were no battle lines on the outskirts of the city but there was no possibility of the communication outside that small area which surrounded the city. And the worst of all, no power and no food supplies could be brought in the area.
I had pets before the war, huge fish tank with exotic tropical fishes and terrarium with the 2 turtles. Guess what, my turtles names were Donatello and Michelangelo. I loved that Ninja turtles cartoon too.

Anyway, tropical fishes needed warm water. So as the cold weather settled in my fishes started to die. I could not keep the tank warm. We could not keep our home warm. The heating fuel was same rarity as food and medicines. So my fishes and smaller turtle died.
At that time there were even more civilian victims. In the neonatal unit of the local hospital there were 12 babies whom had to be kept in isolated condition and they needed the oxygen. Those babies died too. They never got the oxygen. Later in the war we forgot about them. There were so many other victims that 12 babies were nothing. But at that time my brother was serving at the local military airport. He later told me that he was staring to unused huge bottles of oxygen laying in one of hangars at airports, the same oxygen that those babies needed to survive.
Me personally, ah. I was confused then. At that time I still could not believe that people can be so cruel, that such bad things can happen. And during that winter, during those cold winter night when I was sitting together with my mother next to the only oil lamp (we did not even had candles, we used animal fat which was too old to be eaten to burn), during those nights the nationalistic propaganda started to get me. I did start to believe that ‘the other ones’ are evil. I was half frozen, hungry and scared, and officials were telling me day after day that ‘the other ones’ were cause of my miseries.
I started to believe them.

blockade

From that day things got worse. In the way people from Banjaluka were lucky because army swarmed the streets that morning. No fights broke inside the town. But in the town's vicinity real war started.
The major power plants that supplied the town with the power were around hundred kilometres to the south of the town, and unfortunately on territory where Croats were majority. So power was cut.
The Banjaluka is located in sort of shallow canyon. Water supply centres lay near the riverbed, low. And several largest residential quarters were located on surrounding hills. This meant that water needed to be pumped on those heights and for that electricity was needed, electricity which now was cut from the town.
So we did not had bullets and bombs flying above our heads, but we also did not have electricity or water supply.
Instead in library, learning, I spend that spring and summer going everyday to the nearby well and waiting for hours in the line for water.
Around month after war started food supplies dried out. My family was lucky. Mother found out about some distant relative of ours who worked in local ministry of defence. He put my father to serve in a military kitchen for the air force. So he started to bring home tins and other supplies for us to eat as well.
At that time I stopped being vegetarian. It was at the end matter of survival, so if there was only canned meat to eat then I ate the canned meat.
That year my brother ‘finished’ the high school. He normally would had one whole more year to go, but since he was ‘old’ enough to go to the army he successfully graduated, along to the rest of the young boys who were in last years of the high school education.
My parents were panicking and mother spent days trying to ensure he’s not put on the front line. She succeeded at the end. My brother ended up as logistic worker on the local military airport.
Then one of my friends was attacked. She was going home alone in the evening. Few male teenagers attacked her and tried to rape her. In the way she was lucky because some adult male came along and helped her. At the end she was just bruised, not raped. But regardless to that she was terrified and she did not dare to leave house for whole three days. After that she would leave only during the daylight and never alone.
And we lived in the same neighbourhood. That could easily be me instead of her. So to help myself I went to a local martial art centre to learn some self-defence.
That did wonders for my figure. Insufficient food and strong exercises melted me, but there was no alternative. Fear did not allow me to stop learning martial arts and food, well simply there was not enough of it.

At that time I actually learned that adult human body is not by nature made to digest milk. There were not any for months so my body stopped producing enzymes necessary to digest it. Even today I have problems with dairy product as a consequence.