Remember back in the 1990’s, the war(s) that went on for years in (the former) Yugoslavia? I remember them vaguely; sadly, it was the type of topic that I was sort of aware of, but it was so far removed from my life, and seemingly so complex, that I never really felt like I had a handle on it.
But that kind of changed in the early 2000s, when Miss Katarina and her husband and young daughter moved to town. She was ballet teacher for at least one of the girls, and I got to know her too since I’d play piano for some of the classes she taught at the ballet school. They had come to the US once they got the prized “green cards” that allowed them to. They had lived in Belgrade, in the former Yugoslavia.
So, with Katarina as a personal connection, "Logavina Street: Life and Death in a Sarajevo Neighborhood" sounded like an interesting read to me. Also, it’s written by the author of "Nothing to Envy" — a book I found to be truly amazing with its look inside the lives of people in North Korea.
Journalist Barbara Demick lived in Sarajevo while the wars/ethnic conflicts/etc were going on, from 1992-1996. This book doesn’t focus on the fighting at all, but rather on the lives of civilians living during the period on Logavina Street in Sarajevo.
What was the war/conflict all about? Even after reading this book, I can’t honestly tell you. Apparently that’s not all that unusual: “No wonder, then, that Americans were baffled by the Bosnian war. So, too, were Bosnians. The conflict was commonly defined as ‘ethnic warfare,’ yet everyone comes from the same ethnic stock. The difference among people is primarily in the religions they practice, yet to explain the fighting as a ‘religious war’ would be equally misleading, since most Yugoslavs were not religious people.” That this war would happen here was especially strange given that Sarajevo has been called “the Jerusalem of Europe,” referring to it as a city where people of various faiths live in harmony.
Regardless of the reasons, the four years of the siege sounded like a miserable time to live in the city, with utilities cut off, and snipers frequently shooting both children and adults who ventured outside their houses. “I never liked camping, and that was a little bit what it was like,” said one resident of Logavina Street.
There were heartbreaking stories, such as that of a grandmother whose granddaughter escapes Sarajevo for a brighter future elsewhere. “I asked if she was afraid she might never see her granddaughter again. ‘No,’ she replied, without hesitation. ‘I am looking forward to it. I will be happy when Delila leaves.'” That kind of sums up motherhood, I think.
Another sad tale was that of many dogs in the city, whose owners set them free when food shortages made pet ownership something they could no longer afford. “Minka, a dog lover, remembers the beautiful purebreds wandering Logavina Street, an Irish setter that would lope through the yard behind their apartment, several Dalmatians, and a distraught, starving poodle who still sported an elegant pre-war coiffure.” I remembered all the abandoned, wandering dogs I saw in Peru. Just sad.
The conflict in Yugoslavia wrecked the area’s economy, with no currency, 75% unemployment, and “those who worked were not paid.” Sounds like our covid years, on steroids. Other times, the stories brought to mind issues with Ukraine. I recently read about Ukraine’s President feeling less than grateful for the billions Americans have sent to his embattled nation. Similarly, in this book, one civilian railed, “Aren’t you ashamed that your country has done nothing but stand by and watch us die?” Something I’ve observed in life is that if you work to earn something, others will expect you to share it with them. They may be grateful if you do, but they almost certainly will be angry if you don’t. Maybe it’s just that hard situations tend to bring out the worst in people.
One hardship for Yugoslavians fleeing to another country was that, if they had a professional job, they most likely couldn’t get a similar job elsewhere. A Yugoslav doctor said, “I know a (former Yugoslav) doctor in Florida. He is cleaning swimming pools. Maybe he is satisfied with that … I have a friend, a pediatrician. She went to Germany and the only job she was offered was washing old people’s asses in a nursing home.” I remembered my friend Katarina’s husband. Katarina said that in Yugoslavia he had had a complex job involving coin production. In the US, he just found a job in a factory.
I’m glad I read the book because it gave me insight into this period. I still don’t feel like I have a good handle on it, but apparently few do. I found the book hard to follow, with all the unusual names, almost all ending in -vic. The author has a few pages at the beginning listing all the families covered, which helps, but I still never really felt like I “knew” most of them. I think maybe she just tried to cover too many families. She definitely improved as a writer in her next book, “Nothing to Envy.”