Bosnia and Herzegovina

Beautiful Bosnian Countryside

In the last few weeks, Fadmar (my 2^nd cousin on my father's side), Oma and both Laina and I have been planning a family reunion (for the first time) trip down to Bosnia, so we can meet my father side of our huge family! For the most part they all live in Bosnia, originating in a small town called Srebrenik.

Getting to the bus station a little early, Oma and I settle in and wait for Laina to arrive while eating some homemade schnitzels and rolls. Eventually at 6pm our bus took leave of the station, and headed south towards Graz, and then into Slovenia, Croatia, and finally Bosnia. Our bus was bustling down a small dark road when it pulled over to a gas station, and the driver shouts “Srebrenik!”, bleary-eyed and slightly confused all three of us grab our bags, and head off the bus. We were the only ones getting off at this stop. Once off the bus, 5 men come up t ous and start talking in fast-paced Serbo-croatian, a language, I have not even begun to learn. By context I could tell they were asking if we needed a taxi, but then to the side, a tall, 60-something, wiry man with a big grin, not seeming to show any fatigue, (We arrived at 4am!) came up to us and gave Oma a big hug, looked at Laina and I, smiled and hugged us both too. This is Fadil, the nephew of my grandfather, cousin to my father. His family had woken up to await our arrival, and now we headed towards their house. As we walked through Srebrenik at 4am that Saturday morning, I had a hard time distinguishing exactly where we were(I was very tired). We finally made it to their apartment building, headed up the 5 flights of stairs, and began meeting the family. First we met Mara, Fadil's wife and then Jasmina, my other 2^nd cousin, who I have not met anytime in my adult life. They hurried us off to Jasmina's apartment, which is literally right next door, and showed us a room where we could put our stuff down and go to sleep. I passed out as soon as my head hit the pillow, and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

Waking up to the sounds of construction, conversations and the smell of coffee, I sat up and looked out the window. Srebrenik looks very different during the day then it did last night. We had slept for a little more then 4 hours, but we knew our trip would be short and we would need to stay awake for most of it. After cleaning up a little, we headed back to Mara's apartment, and found breakfast laid out for us. We had delicious homemade bread, a variety of sliced meats, homemade plum jam, and roasted red pepper spread, and more. We saw that Oma was nowhere in sight, and then learned that she had already gone up to the “Weekend house” up in the Srebrenik hills, where there is a lot of agriculture, and small family farms on the steep terrain. After breakfasting we had to figure out the best way of communication with our family. No one we have met so far speaks English, however, Jasmina is very good in German, and after our 7 month stint in Vienna, my German has improved to where I can have a conversation without much trouble or delay. So through Jasmina as a Serbo-Croatian to German translator, I then translated her German to English for Laina. A wonderful start to our weekend in Bosnia!

In Jasmina's car, we left the town of Srebrenik to head into the hills. Driving up and out of the town reminded me slightly of other places I have been where people have been living on agriculture for long stretches of time. Farm after farm of corn we passed as we climbed higher into the hills. We saw old-fashioned haystacks (for the first time in my life, real old-fashioned haystacks!) many brick and mortar buildings, and lots of plum trees. Arriving to the top of one particularly tall hill, Jasmina pulls over to show me some land where my father, Oma and Opa used to come to many years ago when they visited from Sweden. We continued over the top of the hill and eventually turned down an even smaller dirt road. Taking a final left turn I see a wooden fence post with a climbing wild hops vine growing on it, full of the papery strongly scented magic flowers, to which the best beers owe much of it's flavor.

Wild Hops

Getting out of the car, we help Mara with some heavy bags of food, for the feast to come, and head out on a small, well-trodden path through two large groves of plum trees, or “Sljivo” in Serbo-Croatian. In the distance, I can see Oma sitting on a patio with Fadil, this is the first time I have seen them today. 

Family on the Patio

When we get to them and after big hugs, we meet Hamdija, Fadil's brother (I pronounced his name Hamdir). Fadil excitedly jumps up, and wants to take us on a tour of the farm. He says he doesn't need Oma to translate, but that we will understand him anyways. We walked up the hill to the bee hives, they have something like 11 hives, all swarming with the warm buzzing sound common to massive amounts of bees. 

Mmm, Honey! ("Med" in Serbo-Croatian)

We continue to the top of the hill, where he shows us large cracks in the earth, and tells us that they need rain, badly. We see an old pool, and a small puppy named “Bobby”, he is super cute and full of energy. 

Oma and Bobby

We finally come up to the huge tubs of fermenting plums. Fadil and Hamdija split this farm in half, and each of them owns half of the plum trees. They use these plums to make a plum brandy, known here in Bosnia as “Sljivovica”, phonetically pronounced, Slivovitz.

Homemade Sljivovica!!

These tubs are filled to the brim with plums, and then covered in a thick plastic sheet which is taped on tightly. The plums are then left to ferment for the next 30 days, and then will go to the still. 

Tubs of fermenting plums

When I looked in the tubs, I didn't understand. Laina and I have made wine, mead and beer and know the process well enough to know that sanitation is a number one concern. These tubs did not look like they were very sanitary. After asking Fadil, he told me that they actually throw away the whole top part of the fermentation and only use the bottom. I figured that the bottom might actually be sterile by the strongly growing yeast culture, which should be converting all the sugars into alcohol.

After the tour, we sat down with everyone, poured a few glasses of Sljivovica, and started to eat some delicious food that Mara had prepared. There was much to catch up on. One of the biggest topics of conversation was how similarly I looked to my father. “Meho”, the nickname for my dad, was often used in referring to me, and as I continued to meet more of the family, it even became the first word new family member said to me. It felt great to meet my extended family down here, people who had know about me from my grandfather and grandmother ever since I was born. After some food, we headed into the kitchen, a small separate building, cozily built a big oven inside. It is here where Mara has cooked all of the food. 

Making the Bread

Taking a look at the oven and realizing how old fashioned it looks, Laina and I both notice that it is a wood-burning stove and oven! Mara's bread was baked in the wood oven! I was really impressed, and we took a closer look, and even added some wood ourselves! 

Mara and Laina with the Fresh Bread

The Kitchen

The food was fantastic, we ate a 2 month old lamb from a neighbor's farm, with more potatoes from a local farm, peppers, and Sljivovica! After the amazing food, and fun conversation, we headed back to the little hut for a quick nap. Waking up again, with a little bit of my fatigue cured, we headed up to the top of the hill to see the sunset. The countryside here is so beautiful, and with the haystacks and plum orchards, one feels that it could have been like this for hundreds of years, unchanged with time. After a beautiful red-orange sunset, and trees with matching leaves, we headed back down to the farm to meet even more family. 

Haystacks

 

Alma, Hamdija's daughter, and her husband, Gassan, arrived with their two boys. Running around with a ball, and throwing at each other, they were having a great time, and I could tell that they felt the comfort of home, here at the farm. They could speak English, as well as Alma and Gassan. After a little time, we went up to their little farm-house at the beginning of the property, and had some coffee, sausages and more food. It was delicious, fresh sausage and burgers grilled hot and eaten with peppers! We had a lot to talk about. Alma told me many stories about my grandfather and grandmother, as well as what she had been doing since starting her family. After great conversation that lasted at least 2 hours, we heard a beeping from the dirt road, and knew that at this hour, it must be Jasmina with Tea, we were about to head to the town fair.

After our goodbyes, we piled into Jasmina's car and drove back down the hills and into Srebrenik again. We pulled into their apartment complex, and then started walking down a big car-free street lined with clubs and bars. We kept on walking until we reached the fair. There were rides, candy, and also a flea market which surrounded the fair. Tea and Laina went on bumper cars, and Tea went on a few more rides.

Bumper Cars!

It was late by now almost midnight, and the fair was shutting down. I realized that I had been on the go for almost 48 hours with only 4-5 hours of sleep, and was starting to get tired. Once we got back home, for the second time that day, hit the pillow and fell almost immediately asleep.

Waking up on Sunday, we had a slow breakfast, and said our good-byes. Our bus home leaves at 10 o'clock. Packing up our stuff and loading it into the car, we drove on down towards the bus station, and took a seat while waiting for our bus. From the station, I could see the hills with their plum trees, and some other parts of Srebrenik. I realized that this trip was too short and that we would have to return later to get to know this part of our history better.

Departing on our bus we gave our last hugs, bid Oma goodbye, She would stay almost two weeks longer, and headed back onto the road north, towards Austria.

Waiting for the bus home.