when the war ends 

The war started in 1992, when I was 7. I have memories of sitting in a classroom and watching Behind The News (BTN), memorizing facts that we would later be quizzed on. But I didn’t know what war meant. Or even really what they were fighting for. Looking at the city the signs of war are subtle – shrapnel holes in walls, red paint on the roads (Sarajevo Roses), dilapidated and abandoned buildings. But just because visually Sarajevo does not look like a war zone this does not mean that the city, or country ever recovered. Before the war mixed marriages between religions were quite common but after the war the population of Serbs (Russian Orthodox) has deteriorated in Sarajevo, with the majority now being Bosniaks (Muslim). I’m embarrassed to say that I didn’t realise that Croats and the Serbs that fought was not another name for Croatians and Serbians, but actually referred to Bosnians of different religions.
I’m staying at the War Hostel, run by Zero One and designed to replicate the war experience with a bunker and he tells the story of his family’s experience. He’s a very intense guy. This is probably the most straightforward way of describing it.


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