Exploring Sarajevo, the City of Trauma
A long time ago, I read a book by Sigmund Freud (Austrian neurologist and the founder of psychoanalysis) called "Civilisation and its Discontents." The book is about the tension between civilisation and the individual.
There is a constant battle between the individual longing for freedom and civilisation demanding conformity and repression of instincts. And so, individuals are constantly sending subtle and not-so-subtle messages about their feelings and this restricted freedom. I had this on my mind recently as I took the trolley bus.
Rush hour
I board the trolley bus and buy my ticket. There is no usual rush hour, so I manage to sit by the window. The trolley brings me from the centre of Sarajevo to a part of town called Dobrinja. It takes me approximately 45 min. I am going to visit my mother-in-law, who is taking care of my daughter, over the weekend.
The ride takes a long time. The trolley has seen better days. The seats are dirty. Seat handles, which used to be made from firm and thick rubber, are now entirely cut with something sharp. I am guessing a knife. All that is left of that handle is a thin metal foundation, trying to do the job of helping a person stand up from their seat. All the seats have graffiti on them. I turn my gaze to the window. The day is gloomy. It is about to rain, but all the water is contained in this gigantic cloud that hovers above Sarajevo today. The mood of the day is grey, with shades of blue.
One flower
The trolley stations are close to each other, so it feels like we stop every 30 seconds. That allows me to pay attention to details outside. A house with a bright pink facade, two stone lion statues, a white Greek-style fence, and a car wash in the garage. Next to it is a house with no facade, orange brick stone sticking out like a sore thumb, new windows with white frames, and one flower in a plastic pot. Then a communist-style three floors building with a park. Trash everywhere.
A local store with veggies, fruit, and balls for kids displayed on wooden construction that can collapse at any second. A cashier sitting on a plastic chair, smoking and watching the trolleys go by. On the other side of the road, a courthouse with wires, a huge fence, security guards, and nice cars parked outside. What used to be a place for grass and greenery is now a muddy pond mixed with cigarette butts and plastic waste. I keep going. I also see some nice houses, with lovely gardens next to super modern gas stations.
And at that moment, I have an epiphany. I remember Freud's book and how we, as individuals, are sending constant messages to the world about our state of being.
What if I see evidence of these messages written in the city's architecture? It feels like I was taking a metaphorical tour of a trauma-affected brain. I was looking at the aftermath of it all. There were messages of severe depression and damage everywhere. No wonder there is trash on the streets, poorly constructed building aesthetics, and cigarette butts.
A brain suffering from trauma is a severe condition that impacts brain functions. It often results from a traumatic event experienced during great distress. The cut-out seats in the trolley bus are evidence of anxiety. This was a normal brain response to the abnormal events that occurred in the near past.
Survival mode
This brain is in survival mode. Most of the parts are not functioning correctly. It looks like it has given up on life. But what gives me hope are the attempts to create beauty as that brain tries to make life normal again. A lovely flower on a window. A modern-looking gas station. A nice house with a lovely garden. That all proves that there is still a fight going on. A battle for a life with dignity and beauty.
At that moment, I stop judging this place. Instead, I start to feel deep respect for this city-sized brain that fights to keep living and for all the resilience that developed with time. I started appreciating it all.
Trauma can destroy one's life. And that is not a pretty sight. But what amazes me is that light shines through all that darkness. And life always finds a way amid death and destruction. A time will come when the trash will be cleaned up and facades built. That must take place in order to heal. But for now, I just stand in awe at life's resilience. I highly recommend a trolley ride for great epiphany moments.
Originally posted at https://cne.news/article/2715-column-from-sarajevo-exploring-the-city-of-trauma
Mirela is Peace Catalyst Program Director in Bosnia and Herzegovina (BiH). Born in Sarajevo in the 1980’s, she had a front row seat to the breakup of Yugoslavia and the siege of Sarajevo and is now studying to become a trauma therapist to more effectively address the unengaged trauma in BiH. Learn more about Mirela here.
