I have become a fixture here at the Irish Center in Me?ugorje. I don’t know if that is a bad thing or not, but there it is. I have a feeling I have become ‘that guy that lives upstairs and spends too much time on the internet and never goes to church’. I also travel out of town enough to make them curious, I think. ‘Why is he here in Me?ugorje?’, they ask…
I spent half the weekend away, traveling to a small town halfway between here and Sarajevo. The draw is the roast lamb on a spit served by the 10 restaurants that line the road on the outskirts of he village. The only other thing the town is famous for is the noted retreat by Partisan forces from the Nazis in 1943, in which the Partisans destroyed the railroad bridge to prevent the invaders from following in hot pursuit. This is a highly spurious claim and has been the subject of communist Yugoslavian propaganda since the event occurred, but the remains of the bridge hang in memoriam and the small museum stands to commemorate the action of the brave and fearless partisans. The real history is, of course, less than dramatic.
The truth of German occupation in Yugoslavia is less than brutal. During the war Hitler only had four divisions in Yugoslavia, and these were not very experienced, strong, or capable in any way. The Partisans, on the other hand, have always been portrayed as constantly at the throats of their nemeses. The fact is that the Germans sort of pushed the poorly armed and organized communists around the country until 1944-45 and Tito and the Partisans were always one step away from getting caught. Get the picture?
There is a lot of propaganda around here, so I only believe what I read from the reputable sources on the outside, i.e. scholars. One good book is called ‘A Short History of Bosnia’, by Noel Malcolm. He’s an English writer and in his work dispels many myths surrounding the past history of Bosnia including those perpetrated by a small nationalistic minority in the late 1980s and through the wars of the 1990s. Good book.
Anyway…The lamb was good (not great, but good), the museum small and moving, and my hotel indicative of communist lodgings from the 1970s. Clean, neat, with sheets like boiled sandpaper. I have posted some pictures on the Picasa site (follow the Juggler, and then My Public Galleries).
I visit the young man with the club foot tomorrow and will give him the new sneakers I have bought for him. That and the three AA meetings are all that’s on the agenda for this week.
I am ready to come home…less than a month! Yay!
Johnnyboy
