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A Brief Travelers’ Guide to Sarajevo’s Local Traditions

By Lidija Jularić*

Sometimes it seems that in Sarajevo, the capital of Bosnia & Herzegovina, everyone knows everything about everyone. The position of Sarajevo itself in some way implies that this is a city in which social control is very strong. It lies in a long narrow valley surrounded by wonderful little hills that are densely populated and mountains. There are two main roads that connect two sides of the city – that is to say, valley – and on one of these roads there is a tram-track, while on the other there is a trolleybus line. Therefore, taking public transport puts you as a local (living in some of the Sarajevo neighborhoods) in a situation where you have a good chance of encountering someone you know on any given day.

In fact, Sarajevo appears to be a huge net of all sorts of acquaintances; someone knows someone who knows someone with whom he went, for instance, to elementary school once. When one passes along the main pedestrian street, Ferhadija, always bustling with people, he will almost surely meet someone he knows- and not just one! Ferhadija Street is the Austro-Hungarian part of the city center that transforms into BaÅ¡Ä?arÅ¡ija - the old Ottoman part of Sarajevo, with old architecture and full of traditional shops.

Sarajevo has developed a tradition whereby those with exhibitionistic longings, who want to ’see and be seen’ must come and stroll this part of the city. Actually, the tradition to take a walk on a city’s main pedestrian street is widespread also in other parts of the Balkans. Thus, if someone were to behave strangely on Ferhadija by, say, walking too fast, he would immediately stand out, and become a topic of discussion. This is quite unusual for the capital city of any modern country since capitals are usually more respectful of the individual’s personal freedom and anonymity. But in the capital of Bosnia & Herzegovina, a person cannot ago unnoticed, either in actions or in dress.

This kind of social control might seem somewhat provincial. However, a 20-year-old local law student, Emir, explains this better: “actually this is not control… we call this ‘mahala.’ Sarajevo was always mahala and everyone knew what the other is doing. And when the word gets out about a fight, and who attacked who or, let’s say, hit somebody…anyone who said that he doesn’t know would be lying.â€?

Mahala was the name for a residential area in the Ottoman Empire. Bosnia & Herzegovina was more than 500 years under its rule; the other part of the city that was a market area was called the Ä?arÅ¡ija. Emir believes that there have always existed these kinds of speculations in Sarajevo and he gives a simple illustration: ‘Did you see the one yesterday who was dressed in… who is he?’ ‘Yes, yes, I know, I saw him on the street…’ This ‘activity’ is also wittily referred to as ‘MIS - Mahala Intelligence Service’ (Bosnian: Mahalska ObaveÅ¡tajna Služba), as Emir further clarifies it.

There is one phrase in Sarajevo called ‘mahala story’ (mahalska priÄ?a) that in translation means ‘neighborhood gossip’. With another anecdote, Emir gives an idea about how this looks in practice. In that time SFOR, the former NATO peacekeeping force in Bosnia, was looking for the famous Hague war crime tribunal refugee, Radovan Karadzic, in Pale, a town near Sarajevo that was the administrative center for Bosnian Serbs in the recent war and is today a part of the Republic of Srpska (one of the two entities in Bosnia and Herzegovina, the other being the Federation of Bosnia and Herzegovina). Emir was having an appointment in BaÅ¡Ä?arÅ¡ija, but because he was early he went to one of the coffeehouses and said to the owner to turn the radio on so they could hear what is new with the SFOR action. (Coffeehouse owners and costumers in Sarajevo usually do not bother with formal relationships). The owner answered: “I have no need for that. I made a trip through three or four shops around here, and I know better about everything than this radio, I know better than SFOR what is going on!â€?

The concept of the ‘mahala story’ is in large part connected with a familiar atmosphere that shows almost on every corner of Sarajevo. For example many times costumers address the shopkeepers, owners of cafés or other public institutions officials by their own names. Even the guy that cleans the shoes on Titova Street is known by name: Mišo.

There is another quite important thing concerning this cozy atmosphere, 48-year-old Senad, who knows well the essence of ‘Sarajevo spirit’ (famous in the times of the former Yugoslavia), says that before the recent war they were never paying attention to one’s nationality; this was partially due to the fact that they knew each other mostly by their nicknames. Senad speaks about this while describing how in the past Sarajevo locals knew the owners of cafés: “you would know a man for hundred of years, but you wouldn’t know what his religion is… however, you know him by his nickname: Zizo, Zizi, Bene… You don’t have a clue if he is a Serb or Croat or Muslim or Jew, you don’t know that. You have been going to his café for years, but you don’t know what his nationality is except you know he is Bene…â€?

And Senad concludes: “This is the way we lived.�

Sarajevo’s cozy atmosphere and local traditions is part of the hidden city, and tourists who come only for a day or two, traveling throughout the Balkans, can not feel it just by passing along BaÅ¡Ä?arÅ¡ija and informing themselves of a little of the city’s history and the war, and than moving along to the next Balkan country (yes, this a critique of backpackers). Maybe it is a better option for the visitor to Sarajevo to slow down, to not try and process new information so efficently and to delay the journey a bit. Joining the locals and listening to their stories in an old-style Sarajevo coffeehouses over a cup of Bosnian (Turkish) coffee or a fiery cup of rakija is an excellent and enjoyable way to become a bit more intimately acquainted with this special city between the hills.

Lidija Jularic is currently involved in postgraduate studies in Cultural Anthropology at University of Ljubljana. She graduated in Ethnology and Cultural Anthropology, with a thesis on contemporary Sarajevo coffeehouses and society. Her research interests include Balkan local traditions, diaspora communities from the former Yugoslavia, and studies in multiculturalism and nationalism. Contact the author by e-mail at: lidija.jularic@gmail.com