Since being mugged in Ecuador, I find that I'm more wary of strangers and more cautious of where I explore - at home and when I travel, especially when I'm alone. I felt that still fresh and unexpected pang of apprehension walking to and on the abandoned 1984 Olympic bobsled and luge track. It's tucked up on Mount Trebevic, in the hills right above Sarajevo. Within a few minutes of walking, my nerves felt unfounded as I watched a couple hold the hands of their young daughter on the trail just in front of me. Though that hint of caution and fear mostly dissipated, the bobsled track itself left me feeling uneasy and acutely aware of where I was and the history on which I walked.
The winding, curving piece of architecture once united people in a common goal of bringing home medals for Bosnia, a multi-ethnic country with a common identity, even if a tenuous one. Less than a decade after those Winter Olympics, Serb shooters used the same site as a tactical vantage point - a sniper range - holding the people of Sarajevo hostage in their homes and basements for nearly four years during the Siege of Sarajevo. As a tourist, my mind was blown. I couldn't have imagined having the experience of walking up and down an Olympic bobsled track. The cement track - once sparkling in its icy glory - is now dressed in layers of graffiti that range from careless blobs of color to inspired statements. It's a photographer's playground, as well, and I found myself inspired by the stories and sentiments behind those messages on the track walls - even though I couldn't understand most of them. As a human, I felt uncomfortable being there, and I didn't expect that. It felt voyeuristic to tourist a site where sniper rifles aimed and fired at civilians in the city below. To appropriate a cultural symbol of pride and a common identity to propagate a war of nationalistic aggression seems beyond anything just - even when stretched to include warfare. It was an unnerving experience - and the track's history is complicated and unjust.
The abandoned bobsled track is mired in the tragedies of war - but also in the promise of peace and unity. I hope that better legacy is what lives on.
The winding, curving piece of architecture once united people in a common goal of bringing home medals for Bosnia, a multi-ethnic country with a common identity, even if a tenuous one. Less than a decade after those Winter Olympics, Serb shooters used the same site as a tactical vantage point - a sniper range - holding the people of Sarajevo hostage in their homes and basements for nearly four years during the Siege of Sarajevo. As a tourist, my mind was blown. I couldn't have imagined having the experience of walking up and down an Olympic bobsled track. The cement track - once sparkling in its icy glory - is now dressed in layers of graffiti that range from careless blobs of color to inspired statements. It's a photographer's playground, as well, and I found myself inspired by the stories and sentiments behind those messages on the track walls - even though I couldn't understand most of them. As a human, I felt uncomfortable being there, and I didn't expect that. It felt voyeuristic to tourist a site where sniper rifles aimed and fired at civilians in the city below. To appropriate a cultural symbol of pride and a common identity to propagate a war of nationalistic aggression seems beyond anything just - even when stretched to include warfare. It was an unnerving experience - and the track's history is complicated and unjust.
The abandoned bobsled track is mired in the tragedies of war - but also in the promise of peace and unity. I hope that better legacy is what lives on.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Thank you for taking the time to comment (and read)! If you would like to shoot me a longer note, feel free to email me at travelhikeeat@gmail.com.