Honolulu, Hawaii

Regarding Salem:

Good news! I received an e-mail from my friend Salem in Dahab, Egypt. He is alive and well, and only one employee from the hotel suffered minor injuries in the bombing.

Regarding the highlights of the past four months:

Best decisions:

1) Making the trip! I have experienced more, learned more, and grown more in the past four months than I could have possibly accomplished in the same time period sitting at home.
2) Bringing one pair of Doc Marten shoes. They were light, comfortable, versatile, rugged, and easy to polish.

Favorite restaurants:

1) Dvari in Sarajevo, serving delicious homemade breads and wines.
2) To Be Or Not To Be in Sarajevo, serving traditional, but light, Bosnian cuisine.

Favorite meals:

1) Salt encrusted sea bass in Seville. An extraordinary meal served in a delightful setting.
2) Grilled sea bass in Dahab. Spicy, light, and delicious!

Favorite hotels:

1) Hostel Posillipo in Sarajevo. Clean, cheap, and friendly.
2) El Hashimi Hotel in Jerusalem. Clean, cheap, and friendly.
3) The Windsor Hotel in Cairo. Lots of character and friendly.

Best experiences:

1) Visiting Hebron. Exciting and educational!
2) Snorkeling in Sharm El-Sheikh. Stunningly beautiful!
3) Climbing Mt. Sinai. Unexpectedly emotional.
4) Visiting Petra. Breathtaking.

Favorite cities:

1) Sarajevo. Fascinating, friendly, and cheap.
2) Jerusalem. Fascinating.

Favorite countries:

1) Bosnia-Herzegovina. Beautiful cities, beutiful mountains, beautiful rivers, and friendly people.
2) Hungary. It always feels like home.

(Photo by Eric: A pilgrim at Eyüp Sultan Mosque, Istanbul, Turkey)

Honolulu, Hawaii

I ended up staying in Sarajevo for an extra day, enjoying the company of Salem and Skander, and missing the Wednesday night train to Budapest. I finally arrived in Budapest on Friday afternoon and immediately headed to the nearby village of God. It seemed like the logical and necessary destination. God is located about 25 kilometers north of Budapest. God has two nice bars: one beside the Danube River and one beside God's train station. As an educator, I felt compelled to visit both of God's bars. God's beer is cheap, but tasty (as one might expect).

On Saturday, I dragged myself away from God and back to Budapest, only to leave again on Sunday for the nearby village of Szentendre. I spent all afternoon and evening in the company of some wonderful people (including a UN Human Rights Commissioner) and finally made it back to Budapest in the wee hours of the morning on Monday.

My flight home on Monday was long, but manageable, and I am now attempting to recover from a nasty case of jetlag (it is a twelve hour time difference between Budapest and Honolulu).

All told, the trip was absolutely amazing and far more successful than I had dared hope. Enjoyable journeys always end too abruptly. It is like a roller coaster ride: after screaming bloody murder for somebody to stop the ride, you finally begin to relax and enjoy yourself, when suddenly the ride stops and you are told to get off. Disoriented, on wobbly knees, you walk away, wishing the ride had never ended. All rides, however, do come to an end, and the calmer mind realizes that this is, in fact, a good thing.

It's good to be home. I won't be back in my apartment until Sunday afternoon, and I won't have my cell phone until that time, so please don't drop by or call until then. In the coming weeks, I will be posting my own photographs for each blog entry, and I will also be doing some minor editing. Feel free to check back any time.

Thank you all again for you love and support!!! Let me know if you have any nagging questions that I have left unanswered, and I will be happy to answer them now.

Aloha!!
Eric

(Photo by Eric: God's nicest dog, God, Hungary)

Sarajevo, Bosnia-Herzegovina

Yesterday (Tuesday) I went to the Tunnel Museum here in Sarajevo. As you probably know, Sarajevo was under seige for almost four years (1992-1995). The city was completely surrounded by Serb artillery, except for one small corridor that was controlled by the UN. While the UN allowed humanitarian aide into Sarajevo, they did not allow weapons into the city, effectively preventing the citizens from defending themselves from the Serb's campaign of ethnic cleansing (read: genocide). In order to circumvent this blockade, the Bosnians dug a tunnel under the airport by which they brought weapons into the city and spirited civilians out of the city. That tunnel (one kilometer long, one meter wide, and one and a half meters tall) has now been turned into a museum. Much like the Herzegovina Museum in Mostar, the highlight of this museum was its video portraying life in Sarajevo under seige. Indescribable horror. In a city of 400,000 inhabitants, over 11,000 people were killed during the seige, mostly as a result of indescriminate Serb shelling.

After leaving the museum I visited the old Jewish cemetary, from whence the seige began and the snipers sniped at "sniper alley". Most of the tombstones in the cemetary still bear scars from the war, but the synogogue has been beautifully restored, and the restoration of the cemetary is scheduled to begin this summer.

By midafternoon the sun was finally shining after more than a week of non-stop rain. I took advantage of the opportunity to head up onto one of the many mountains surrounding the city. The setting is, to say the least, idyllic, and it is very difficult to imagine the horror that reigned here so recently.

As the sun set last night, the rains returned. I spent the evening talking with Skander, the son of Salem, the owner of my hostel. He made some interesting observations about Bosnian Islam. He estimated that 50% of Bosnian Muslims do not practice Islam in any way whatsoever. He estimated that another 25% go to the Mosque on Fridays and fast during Ramadan, but otherwise ignore the teachings of Islam (especially the prohibition on alcohol and the obligation to pray five times a day). He said that the remaining 25% really try to follow sharia (Islamic law), but he made it sound like most of them fail (especially regarding the prohibition on alcohol and the obligation to pray five times a day). Skander is a member of this latter 25%, and while he never drinks, he also rarely prays. He was absolutely stunned that I had read the Qur'an during my trip (I began reading it in Madrid and only finished reading it in Mostar -- partly because it is no page-turner, and partly because I wanted to take my time and really think about what I was reading and discuss it with Muslims along the way). He was absolutely convinced of the indisputable truth of this book, but looked upon reading it as some kind of daunting task. I must admit, it was kind of a drag. This God fellow really needs to take that "Creative Non-fiction" writing course taught by the Buddha Known as.

It is cold and rainy again today. I will be leaving Sarajevo by train tonight, arriving in Budapest sometime tomorrow morning. I will try to make one more posting before returning home to Honolulu next week.

I want to thank everyone for all the loving support I've received during this trip, both through your comments on the blog and the many personal e-mails you've sent. Traveling alone isn't always easy, and your kind words helped me through the day on more than one occasion. I must admit that I considered abandoning this blog several times, but in the end, I'm glad I stuck with it. And I'm glad that you've stuck with me!!!

YOU ROCK!!!

(Photo by Eric: Sarajevo, Bosnia-Herzegovina)

Sarajevo, Bosnia-Herzegovina

Yesterday (Sunday) I rose early in the morning and took a bus from Mostar to the village of Medjugorje, where the Virgin Mary has been appearing every day since June 24, 1981. She appears at 5:40 p.m. Daylight Savings Time and 6:40 p.m. Standard Time, thus ending the centuries old debate as to whether or not Heaven's clocks spring forward and fall back. Originally the Holy Virgin appeared to six children, all of whom are now grown and continue to receive visions at least once a year. Three of the original six still receive daily visions, and one receives a monthly message for the entire world. This is good stuff.

It was cloudy and cold yesterday, as it has been for the past week, and by the time I arrived in Medjugorje, it was raining cats and dogs (that's a figure of speech, not to be taken literally). After a tasty cheese and tomato omelette, eaten in the company of a dozen Irish pilgrims enjoying an early morning Irish coffee, I went to St. James' Church, the religious headquarters of the town. When I arrived, a Croatian mass was being performed, so I walked to the nearby statue of the Risen Christ that oozes salvific pus from its knee (not as appealing as salvific milk, but you take what you can get). The cats and dogs falling from the sky (a reference to that figure of speech mentioned earlier, and not to be taken literally) made it difficult to discern the pus on the Savior's knee or the tears on the pilgrims' faces. But there we were, the faithful and the damned (me), all huddled together, diligently rubbing His knee.

After that little exercise, I returned to St. James' Church for an English language mass. There were at least a dozen priests at the altar, native speakers of a dozen different languages. The English mass was introduced by a Franciscan friar who told the crowd not to give money to beggars. I'm not sure if he was referencing Christ or St. Francis when he gave that commandment. I've obviously been reading bad translations of both. He went on to explain that St. James' Church would like to have a world-class choir with top-knotch singers from around the globe, and he encouraged the faithful to donate generously to this noble cause. By my understanding, my great-grandfather decided to leave the old country after hearing similar sermons. I too decided to leave, giving all my change to the first beggar I saw.

I proceeded on foot to the nearby village of Podbrdo on the side of Crnica hill (a.k.a. Apparition Hill), to the site where the Virgin Mary first appeared to the six children in 1981. By the time I reached the rocky trailhead, the rain was coming down in sheets, and the hillside had turned into a muddy river. Several groups of pilgrims were turning back, unable to make it up to the site of the apparition. I felt really bad for these people. There were dozens of elderly people from foreign countries who had traveled for days just to see this site, many of them supported by canes or crutches, all of them dressed in their Sunday best, including high heels and skirts on the women. Going up the mountain was an impossibility for most of them. I, on the other hand, am like a Green Beret: fearless, driven, and perhaps a little dim-witted. I headed up the mountain, ankle-deep in muddy water, past the 14 Stations of the Cross (I know them well!) and to the statue of the Virgin Mary that marks the spot where she first appeared 25 years ago. There were at least a dozen other people there, many of them kneeling in the mud saying the rosary. When lightening struck nearby with a sharp clap of thunder, most of us decided it was time to head back down the mountain.

I caught the next bus back to Mostar, chilled to the bone, my clothes drenched, my guidebook and camera floating in the bottom of my backpack. It rocked!

This morning I caught the train back to Sarajevo (a much more pleasant ride when your head isn't pounding from the previous night's drinking binge). It continues to rain in town, while the surrounding mountains are covered with a fresh blanket of snow.

(Photo by Eric: Pus veneration, Medjugorje, Bosnia-Herzegovina)

Mostar, Bosnia-Herzegovina

On Wednesday evening I walked eight kilometers up the Miljacka River and visited an old Turkish bridge known as the Goat Bridge. When I returned to my hostel that evening, the owner, Salem, was in a talkative mood, so we sat together and drank beers all night, and he told me about the war and the seige of Sarajevo.

On Thursday morning I took a train from Sarajevo, the capital of Bosnia, to Mostar, the capital of Herzegovina. The train ride was spectacular (in spite of my hangover) as we climbed over the Bjelašnica Mountains and came down the Neretva River gorge on the other side.

The Neretva River is, without question, the most beautiful river I have ever seen in my life. The water is emerald green! I don't know if it is the color of the water that makes something common uncommonly visible, or if it is the rock formations beneath the water, but the bright green water swirls in the most mesmerizing patterns. You can sit and stare at the river for hours, and people do!

The Neretva River runs right through the heart of Mostar, with its pristine (reconstructed) old town and famous Turkish bridge connecting the two river banks. Outside of the old town, Mostar is not as charming. This city suffered more damage to its buildings than any other town in the former Yugoslavia. I am staying near the former front line, where every building has been destroyed beyond repair, and yet no effort has been made to demolish these horrible reminders of the hatred that divided (and divides) the city. Most local residents still don't cross the front line, and the EUFOR soldiers in Mostar are armed (with unloaded, holstered sidearms, but armed nonetheless) and on patrol. In this regard, it is very different from Sarajevo.

I spent yesterday and today(Thursday and Friday) wandering around the old town, visiting the tomb of the Sufi Sheikh Juju and the mosques of Karadžozbeg and Koski Mehmed Pasha. I also visited the Museum of Herzegovina and watched their extremely disturbing film about the destruction of the Old Bridge by Croat forces in 1993. (The reconstruction of the bridge was completed in 2004.)

It was interesting to watch the old men heading to their Friday prayers today. Bosnia-Herzegovina is a very secular country, which is a large part of why I like it so much, but ethnic identity is determined entirely by religion here, so there are a certain public displays of religiosity that do occur. In Lebanon and the Palestinian Territories, the old men don their best suits and khaffiyas for Friday prayers (otherwise you don't see a lof them wearing khaffiyas), while here in Herzegovina, the men don their best suits and their little black berets. I don't know why, but that made me really happy to see. They just looked so darn cute!

(Image from Internet: "Roman Bridge at Mostar", by Csontváry Kosztka Tivadar)
(Photos by Eric: Roman Bridge at Mostar, Bosnia-Herzegovina)

Sarajevo, Bosnia-Herzegovina

I spent the early afternoon yesterday visiting the Gazi-Husrevbey Mosque and Madrassa, Bosnia's most important Islamic institution. In the late afternoon I visited the Sarajevo Art Gallery, which houses an impressive collection of modern and contemporary Bosnian art. At dinner (fresh green salad, pepper chicken, and Montenegrin white wine), I met the European Union representative in charge of introducing Value Added Tax to Bosnia-Herzegovina and the US AID coordinator for Bosnia-Herzegovina. Both men were rather stuffy, and neither spoke a word of Serbo-Croatian, in spite of living here for years. But they were interesting dinner companions, sharing their professionally optimistic and personally pesimistic views on the future of the region. Both men assumed that the Republika Srpska would eventually break away from the Bosnian Federation and join with Serbia proper, especially if Montenegro votes for independence in its May 21st referendum and Kosovo manages to separate itself from Serbia.

http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/europe/4768370.stm

This morning I visited the Serbian Orthodox museum attached to the old Serbian Orthodox Church of St. Michael the Archangel. Afterwards I visited the Svrzo House Museum (Serbo-Croatian is as vowel-phobic as Hawaiian is consonant-phobic) and was able to see how the Muslim elite of Sarajevo lived in the 18th century -- not too shabby! And finally I visited the Ashkenazi Synagogue, rounding off my tour of Sarajevo's Abrahamic communities.

After three days of beautiful blue skies and sunshine, it is overcast and chilly today. The mountain air is deliciously crisp and clean here, and one would never guess that Sarajevo was once Yugoslavia's industrial center and remains the region's major steel producer.

I can't get over how calm and peaceful this town is, especially given its recent past. UNPROFOR (the United Nations Protection Force that failed to protect anybody and never used force) was replaced by SFOR (NATO's Stabilization Force), and that has now been replaced by EUFOR (the European Union Force, that consists of Germans, French, Spaniards, several misplaced Turks and the occasional lost American). You see these EUFOR soldiers all over the place, but none of them are armed, and they appear to be little more than uniformed tourists. You also see Bosnian soldiers every now and then, but they too are unarmed. (I assume there is a moritorium against weapons in Sarajevo -- an excellent idea for any town.) Of course, the Sarajevo police carry side arms, but they seem like a good-natured bunch of local boys, too busy drinking coffee and flirting with the girls to be bothered with fighting crime -- if there exists any crime to fight.

Aside from Budapest, Sarajevo is the first place I've visited on this trip where I've felt I could live for a while -- months or years. Serbo-Croatian is much more gentle on my ears than its Northern Slavic cousins, and I really enjoy saying "da, da, dobro!" ("yes, yes, good!") when they bring me my beer. The people are kind and generous and funny, and very happy to see unarmed foreigners in their town. Really, you should think about visiting!

(Photo by Eric: Spanish EUFOR troops, Mostar, Bosnia-Herzegovina)

Sarajevo, Bosnia-Herzegovina

Dahab, Egypt was hit by three bombs yesterday, killing 23 and injuring 62:

http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/middle_east/4941446.stm

You can see the Neptune Hotel, where I stayed, in picture 7 below. The bridge in pictures 1 and 2 was immediately beneath my window:

http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/in_pictures/4941026.stm

The Al Capone restaurant is where I ate dinner most nights:

http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/middle_east/4940908.stm

I have made only a few new friends on this trip. One is Salem, who worked in my hotel in Dahab. His name means "Peace," and we have kept in touch via e-mail since I left Dahab two months ago. In his last e-mail he sent me a picture of himself (above), and ended his message saying, "Really I miss you." Really, I hope I don't have to miss him too. Such incredible stupidity.

The Christian Science Monitor interviewed Hany Aly, the manager of the Neptune Hotel, and he sounded rather upbeat, stating that the cafe where Salem works is still open for business. This makes me optimistic that Salem's pretty picture doesn't deserve to be posted on my blog.

http://www.csmonitor.com/2006/0426/p06s01-wome.html

(Photo received via e-mail: Salem at the Neptune Hotel, Dahab, Egypt)