| AMIDA TRUST | |
Report: 2002 WELCOME TO SARAJEVO by Sr Modgala |
| The bus to Sarajevo is noisy, cheerful and chaotic as we enter the last leg
of our marathon journey. They are the lucky Bosnians I discover- the few
who are able to get visas to other countries. Daylight comes, and we take
in the beautiful mountains that surround our route along the River Bosna,
as well as the pretty Mediterranean style houses, many under
reconstruction. As we approach Sarajevo the wounds of war are very visible.
Pristine buildings of different colours sit alongside the derelict. Others
are pockmarked by bullet holes and mortar shells. Later we see the burnt
out tower blocks that stand guard over "Sniper Alley". On our return
journey through the Republika Serpska part of Bosnia we see worse - streets
of ruined houses in a bleak no man's land where there is little evidence of
reconstruction. The bleakest landscape I have ever seen, and it stretches
for miles. I have a sense that it will take a long time for this land to
heal.
There is a strange beauty in the city of Sarajevo, echoes of it's great and cosmopolitan past. Old houses of different ages sit beside large apartment blocks. Posh shops selling high tech products are alongside half-empty ones offering basic goods. The old low buildings in the Ottoman quarter contrast with the Austro-Hungarian edifices.The magnificent library is still a shell, though reconstruction work has started. Many people question how has the aid money been spent? Certainly I wonder why so many ruins are still left As we walk we note the rows of white tombstones in the hills surrounding the city. Perhaps that is why many of the people on the streets seem solemn. The young people give a different focus as they crowd out of the gymnasium - teenagers like any others in the world, chatting and laughing, some in simple formal dress, others displaying their more extrovert character. But I ask myself, where are the young children in this city? Later we find out that many feel unwilling to bring children into this world. There are many beggars, mostly disabled men and Roma women, old and young often with babies in arms. Wild children walk the streets day and night with pleading eyes and outstretched hands. In the old town, peasants eke out a living, bringing food and handmade goods to market. Here we find more cheerfulness and laughter, though on the outskirts others try to trade cigarettes and cheap shoddy goods. Many people speak of being forgotten by the West, People voice little faith in their politicians and the parties in power are the same as those when the war started. Many fear war will explode again. I am repeatedly told that the Mafia is running the country. We meet several groups trying to help people go past their traumas, but all are struggling and fear that eventually there will be more bloodshed. I presented a paper at the East West Psychology conference in Sarajevo University. This is the first conference they have hosted since before the war. The round table on the second morning demonstrates how important it is to the professors in the Psychology department, and also for the future of Sarajevo and Bosnia. One professor spells out the problems surrounding them - 6o% unemployment, low wages, poverty, and domination by a few rich people in the community. He speaks of the need for Bosnian to be spoken and their country and language to be respected. Several professors also speak of their fears for the traumatised young people who are growing up in Bosnia. One of the highlights of my stay is meeting some classes of teenagers in a school just outside Sarajevo. A friend with whom I tried to bring teenagers to Amida France just after the war is a teacher. She does not really expect many questions from the pupils as this is not a school of high achievers and their English is limited. However, each class, as they come to know me, ask questions about what I think of Bosnia, the war and the threatened war with Iraq. They are pleased to hear large numbers of British people are demonstrating against the war. However they first talk about safe subjects such as football etc, then ask about my personal life, children etc. Then they asked if I drank or smoked or ate pork and finding I was even stricter than Muslims, being vegetarian, started to tease about catching me out with one of their famous pies. They asked about Buddhism - why I wear red, what is meditation, what are its beliefs, and what practices do we follow. I demonstrated chanting the Nembutsu, using my mala and for a few minutes each class went totally silent and one group even clapped. It reminded them of their own Muslim practice of chanting using beads. They tell me more about their practices and a few shared some of their hopes for the future, though sadly their reluctance showed as they face a very uncertain future with few jobs available. It is a lovely lively visit with noisy, rumbustious youngsters so similar to those I have worked with in Scotland and Zambia. The small Amida group blossoms. Our rented flat offers a calm, peaceful relatively safe space to meditate, chant study and share. Sometimes stories emerge and feelings are shared. Many of the stories show courage, a generosity of spirit and sharing the little they had in those dark times. Also their determination to maintain a country where people of different faiths and cultures can live together. As they tell these stories they grow lighter in spirit and more hopeful for the future. They start to find positives and find how caring for others helped them during the war and still helps them now. They are interested in learning about Buddhism and Buddhist practices that will help them cope with all the feelings that come up in daily life, particularly the anger and despair. They want teachings that will help them make some sense of what happened in their lives. I see that faith in whatever religion is important alongside friendship and the ability to help others. I often feel helpless and together we all sometimes feel helpless and yet as we meet, share, learn and encourage each other, we find inspiration together and some healing comes while hope grows that our small ripples might spread and new seeds be sown. However, above all, I find that friendship is the key to everything. It is often while doing simple things together - walking, cooking, eating and washing up that we share our stories; both about the pain of violence, war and its aftermath and our joy. It is here that positive seeds grow and the Pure Land is found. Going out with our friends and appreciating both the lovely old buildings that have survived and the areas of countryside that have been reclaimed from landmines helps re-open our friends eyes to the beauty and joy. We can see that the Pure Land is here and faith can be regained. The Buddha's teachings come alive. Modgala Duguid |