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A young Bosnian man whips his shirt off and jumps to the other side of the banister to dangle precariously over the water that glistens below. A crowd gathers excitedly as he hops along like a tightrope walker in a circus, calling out to the crowd with confidant gusto while his friend shakes a hat at them, encouraging them to dig deep enough into their pockets to convince this daredevil to brave the 25 metre drop into ice cold water. He puts on a great show, but it's not him that we are watching - he won't jump. It's that fellow behind the crowd, zipping up a wetsuit and pouring water over his head - this guy is serious. He strides to the edge, climbs the banister, grips the iron and leans his torso out into the air.
The famous Mostar bridge, or Stari Most, spans the Neretva river in the old town, and was commissioned by the Sultan Suleiman of the Ottoman Empire in the middle of the 16th century. A smaller test version was built first, and this is the oldest bridge still standing in Mostar which we saw on our stroll through town. When it proved successful, an architect called Mimar Hayruddin built the larger version, which is not bound with any concrete but instead with a mortar mix that among other things, is made with egg whites. There are a couple of stories that circulate about the unveiling of the bridge - some say Hayruddin fled before it was finished and may have never seen it completed, others say he stayed but had planned his own funeral - just in case. It was a tough gig to be an architect for the Sultan. Stuff it up, you die. Build it too well, you die, and your plans are burned to ensure that your masterpiece is unique to the empire alone.
The Mostar bridge is certainly unique and impressive with its high arch, and it has become a famous spot for boys to prove themselves men. In June each year there is diving competition where thousands gather, and judges score two types of dive - the pin drop or the more difficult swallow dive. It's hugely competitive, and also risky not only because of the height but also because the water is so cold...my frozen toes are testiment to this. We ask our local tour guide if he's ever jumped. "No," he answers resolutely, "unless I am jumping for my life, I think it is unnecessary risk." I hear ya sister.
People have died landing on their back, and I remember at least one story of a tourist missing after a jump a couple of years ago. Still, he gives us a few tips just in case any of us want to take a quick dive in our short stop here. Perfectly happy to say we kept to dry land, but tourists can jump - officially you are supposed to pay about 25 euro to the diving club, which goes toward the upkeep of the bridge and also buys you some sound advice. Only one or two tourists brave the jump weekly on average. Maybe next time...
We browse through markets selling fisherman pants and flowing skirts, alladins' lamps and bronze figurines. Bosnia was under the Ottoman empire, and the Turkish influence is obvious. They also sell (quite strangely I thought but obviously it's profitable) war 'souvenirs' like army helmets, bullet necklaces, knives and replica guns.
As our guide leads us through the town past many more crumbled, bullet ridden buildings, he explains that the locals didn't want to fight each other. For years, they had lived harmoniously, knew each other as friends, neighbours, colleagues - and family. What of the many Bosnian-Croats or Bosnian-Serbs who married a Bosniak (Muslim Bosnians)...and what of their child?
So at the beginning of the war, the locals were throwing explosives into empty areas, firing into the air or against walls. It was only when troops from either side were brought in from other areas that the fighting began in earnest.
We see the street that divided one side from the other during the war. Bosnian-Croats expelled the Bosniaks from their homes, and took over the west side, while the Bosniaks were moved to the East side. The next few years saw the city under heavy siege, with horrendous violence and war crimes committed. Much of the city was destroyed, including the Bridge. It had stood for 427 years before it collapsed in November 1993 under Bosnian-Croat artillery fire.
20 years on, the bridge and buildings have been rebuilt but the country itself still has a long way to go economically and politically - with 40% unemployment, there is poverty (immediately clear by the tiny children begging on the roadside who eagerly accept water and bananas from us) and corruption is rampant. Our guide tells us that many jobs are tailor-made in return for political support and ongoing favours. Also, there are three elected presidents representing each ethnic group who rotate chairmanship every eight months. And I thought Australia's system was convoluted!
Today, he says, no one wants to hang on to the past. Emotionally, they are moving on. "Afterall, if all of Europe was to hold a grudge for all the bloodshed over the centuries, what would be left of us?" Today, the Bosnian people seem to live in harmony as before the war.
Except maybe when it comes to the competition on the bridge.
The man grips the banister and three times he bounces out, pumping himself up. And then without a word he launches himself off the bridge and I hold my breath as he plunges down and down until he cuts cleanly through the water. One...two...three...four...fi...he emerges, and swims to the edge as everyone applauds.
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