Sunday, September 1, 2013

Mostar and Medjugorje, Bosnia

On my 3rd day I decided to go to Mostar, and I realized later on, that I could do a sidetrip to Medjugorje. When we were kids I remember Mom mentioning about the apparition in Medjugorje which made me decide quickly to visit the place and send a postcard to Mommy once I get to the top of the apparition hill. 

I chose to catch the bus to Mostar and quickly get on the first bus to Medjugorje. That worked out well, although there was a point where I had to rush down the apparition hill to catch the bus back to Mostar. But i'll save that story for later.

Medjugorje is located in the Herzegovina region of Bosnia, 25 km southwest of Mostar and very close to the border of Croatia. The name itself means "Between mountains". Back in history, it was once part of the Independent State of Croatia and remained under that regime from 1941 till the Bosnian War. In 1995 by the Dayton Agreement, it was then included into the Federation of Bosnia and Hergzegovina. 

I arrived in Medjugorje around 11 am in the morning and found the place already packed. There were tourist buses everywhere. I guess to some extend I'd say I was a little bit disappointed with the town itself. Every corner had a hotel and souvenir shops were more abundant than local dairy shops. I honestly thought it was a zoo. But of course I didn't want that to deter myself from feeling the place and exploring a bit of it during that short time frame that I had. Before going to the church I passed by a souvenir shop and bought some postcards and little trinkets for my family. I had a little chat with the girl who was so pleasant, definitely had a different & shining aura to her. 

I stopped for lunch first then noticed commotion on the road. The waiter wasn't really a happy bloke, felt bored and didn't care if there was a customer in the place. I just couldn't be bothered to say anything at all. I drummed my fingers and waited for him to acknowledge. I peeked over the patio and found a procession happening. The front liners were in their traditional Bosnian church attire and chanting a hymn. I quickly finished my food and rushed off to follow the crowd. Apparently there was a noon mass in the middle of the park, just a block away from the church. I was surprised to see the place packed. From the looks of it, majority of them were locals, making their own pilgrimage and most probably there for their own prayer intentions. A lot of the families came prepared with their own chairs. 

I moved on to the church hoping to look for a priest who could bless the beads that I got for Mom. Unfortunately, I had to line up the confessional box before I could have it done. The friar who was standing by the door wasn't as helpful coz he couldn't speak English. And I found it a little bit daunting when my hand gesture of the cross over the beads didn't work at all. Since I was on a time limit, I decided to shoot off and go up the apparition hill. 

Along the way were the hotels that eventually changed to houses. If they were holiday houses, I didn't bother
to know anymore. The whole place seemed to be a resort area anyway. I followed a German couple who was also heading to the hill. It was a 30-minute walk from the town proper, winding through and eventually getting to the base. The path itself was a little bit challenging because of the rocks. It seemed to be more of a rock hike than just a plain hike. What made it admirable though were the pilgrims who were walking barefoot. As I got to the top I was happy that people observed silence and said their prayers. I chose me a spot a few steps away from the crowd and took out my postcards. There I filled it up and said my prayers too. 

By the time I was done, I was stinting my way down the hill. Conscious of my ex-broken toe, I tried to be as careful as I could possible be just to avoid any accidents. I was just right in time to drop off the parcel to Mom and then to my sisters and quickly get to the bus stop. Whew. I was huffing and puffing by the time I got back to town. 

It was definitely scorching hot in Mostar by the time I arrived. It was in Bosnia that I encountered the photos of Mostar. The aqua blue colour of the Neretna River was enough to convince to see it for myself. It is the fifth largest city in Bosnia and a cultural capital of the Herzegovina-Neretva Canton. 

The well known Old Bridge (Stari Most) is a living testament of the influence of Ottoman's empire on Bosnia. This became one of the most recognizable landmarks of Bosnia and said to be one of the most exemplary piece of Islamic Architecture in the Balkan Region.

Back during the Bosnian War, the Yugoslavia People's Army (JNA) bombed Mostar on 3  April 1992. And
as I walked around town I noticed so many buildings, houses and edifices that were remnants of the bombings. Bullet holes seemed to be part of the structure and massive graffitis adorned the ruins, expression of freedom. Understandable. 

I continued walking the streets just observing how the city felt. It wasn't as big, and the old town was pretty impressive with its cobble stones. A few local kids were on the bridge, jumping the height..I'd say they were crazy. A few fisherman found their own place beside a secluded space along the Neretna River. I just observed from top.

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