THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Tuesday, November 28, 1995 TAG: 9511280293
SECTION: FRONT PAGE: A1 EDITION: FINAL
SOURCE: BY SANJA OMANOVIC, CORRESPONDENT
DATELINE: SARAJEVO, BOSNIA-HERZEGOVINA LENGTH: Long : 102 lines
November brought a real winter into Sarajevo. But with November, the hope for peace also has come.
``I have gotten the papers from the army - I'm not a soldier anymore. Can you believe that?'' Zeljko Lukic, 35, said, showing the paper that allows him not to go to the trenches anymore. During the past 3 1/2 years, he had to forget that he was a computer operator and take up a gun.
Lukic fought with the Muslim-dominated Bosnian army, although like many residents of multiethnic Sarajevo he is of mixed ancestry. His father was a Croat, his mother a Serb.
``I hope there will be more time for my daughter, for computers and everything else,'' said Lukic with a smile.
But what about war memories?
``I will try to forget everything. It will be hard, but I have to try.''
It seems somehow that Sarajevans are walking, talking and smiling in a different way now. After nearly four years of misery, the war, they hope, is over.
``There has been enough killing, hate and destruction. It is time to save something of this land for our children. Satina Lagumdzija, 27, said, holding a 2-month-old in her arms. ``If the war did not stop, I would leave Bosnia and go anywhere. I want my child to have a normal life.''
``My Senad (her son) will not remember the war. He will not know what a shell is. He will not be able to recognize the sound of cannon. And that is good for him. He's hopefully the lucky one.''
But some Sarajevans still do not believe that the war is really over.
It is very hard to feel better when it is 10 degrees below zero Celsius (14 degrees Fahrenheit) outside and you don't have central heat or enough gas or electricity to heat your home. That's why Sarajevans are talking much more about winter than about peace.
``I do not believe anybody anymore,'' Advija Vugic, 74, said. ``We have seen several peace agreements before now. So what? Every time, they started to shoot again.
``I worry about the money that my son is sending me from Germany and not about big questions like war and peace. I'm old enough not to care about politics. What I'm going to do now is to go to the marketplace, where I will try to find cheap firewood. I was not the one who started the war, and I'm not the one who will finish it.''
It is not easy to forget war's tragedies, especially for those who have lost their dearest. About 10,000 Sarajevans have been killed during the war. Among the dead: 1,600 children.
There is an improvised memorial for all the dead children in the largest park in Sarajevo. The day it opened last week, the park was full of people. They brought flowers and toys; many cried.
Only a few days later, the flowers are dry, the toys thrown about. Some wonder: Have the city's dwellers already forgotten what has been happening to them over the past 43 months?
``This is a shame. Our dead children deserve at least a dignified place where the parents, brothers and sisters can come. Nobody can give us our children back, but we will think about them as long as we live,'' Nedim Agic, 34, said at the park. His 7-year-old daughter was killed while she was playing there.
Sarajevans argue that they cannot accept the idea of living with those who they consider murderers. Serb soldiers from the hills around the city are not Sarajevans anymore, they say. Anybody who shot at Sarajevo cannot be a Sarajevan.
Said 58-year-old Suada Katavic: ``I used to live in Grbavica. There are Serbs there now. We were told that we will be able to go back there soon. If they stay there, I'm not going. It's OK if the old Serbs, those who have not been soldiers, stay. I don't hate anybody. I just don't want to live with people who have shot at me and put me out of my home.''
It will take some time until Sarajevo heals its wounds. Its people will need some time to forget their suffering. But it is said that peace is a magic thing. It is time for the magic to start in Sarajevo. MEMO: Sanja Omanovic, a Bosnian journalist, was a National Forum Foundation
visiting fellow at The Virginian-Pilot.
ILLUSTRATION: Color photos
Sanja Omanovic, a Bosnian journalist, was a National Forum
Foundation visiting fellow at The Virginian-Pilot
ASSOCIATED PRESS
A Bosnian boy peers through razor wire at the United Nations airbase
at Tuzla, where American NATO forces would be stationed.
In downtown Sarajevo, a woman leaves a soup kitchen with a meal on
Monday. As November grew chilly, the prospects for peace warmed. But
for many in the city, the difficulties of war-torn living remained
strongest. For them it is too soon for joy, or even relief.
Photo
ASSOCIATED PRESS
A Sarajevo woman visits the grave of her son, killed in 1992.
Looking in is Emvir Omerovic, 6, a refugee from eastern Bosnia. As
hopes for peace grow in the city, the issue of just who is a
Sarajevan grows. ``I just don't want to live with people who have
shot at me and put me out of my home,'' a resident said.
by CNB