White Mountain

We traveled deep into the heart of White Mountain just recently, revisiting the ancient highland settlements perched on the Rakitnica Canyon, which is perhaps the most unexplored canyon in southeast Europe. With meters of snow piled on either side of the road, one wonders how, if at all, these Dinaric Alps shepherds ever leave the area over the winter months. Muharem greets us with his herd of sheep with the traditional kiss on each cheek. And in fine highlander fashion, drops everything he does to invite us in for a coffee. But the angel snow is all to inviting and the group is anxious to strap on the snowshoes and trudge up to Gradina - a primitive summer settlement where the semi-nomadic shepherds stay in the summer months with their herds. Although the cold is biting, the reflection of the sun on the snow blinds me. Thanks to Sierra Trading Post bargain barn my new pair of Northface shades save the day. My Celtic eyes can barely handle a sunny day let alone the powerful reflection beaming off of the snow. As we begin the trek we stop at Izmir's place. His wife will prepare some traditional food for our return, and in turn make a little money for him and his family. His wife is expecting twins...so they soon must abandon their village due to lack of facilities and medical care.

Past the ancient Muslim cemetery we start ascension...the sky's clear blue and the rugged peaks of Visocica and Treskavica veer out to the east whilst the barren valley of Dugo Polje overwhelms us to the south. Our route was an old Illyrian trading caravan one. The extensive mountain routes, totally isolated from the valley civilization, are thousands of years old. The Romans, conquering this region in the first century from the fierce indigenous Illyrian tribes, greatly improved the roads system, still found today in many of the highland areas in the Central Dinaric Alps.

We soon reach the Red Rock Faces, which is the entrance to Studeni Fields. Legend has it that many centuries ago there was a fiery dragon that was attacking and scaring the shepherds and their flocks. The villagers asked the local holyman to go and fight this wicked dragon. He agreed to do so, on one condition. He asked the villagers to pray for him and his safety until he returned. The power of their prayers would enable the 'imam' to defeat the beast. Off he went into the canyon. For days there was no sound or word of him. Yet the villagers continued to pray. It is said that the dragon climbed up the rock face of the canyon, with his large tail swithering up Studeni Fields -- creating the present day serpentine stream. They met near Gradina, and with the power of the imams prayers, along with the faithful below, the holy man turned the dragon to stone. The tail, mouth and head can be clearly seen engraved into the Red Rocks. The village was henceforth named Umoljani, which means 'in prayer.'

Once we approach the ridge near Gradina the winds pick up and pierces even the best of winter gear. The valley below Obalj Mountain, geographically dividing Bosnia from Herzegovina, creates a wind tunnel that we choose to avoid. We stay high on the ridge until we reach Studeni Fields. From the ridge the views of Visocica's glacier peaks stuns us all. We have now left any remnants of the highland civilization behind and have entered the untethered territory of Pacha Mama. The untouched, wind frozen snow is enticing for a jaunt down the slopes. Off we go, one by one, galloping down towards the stream. We happily trek along the banks of the frozen stream, now completely dwarfed by the rising peaks all around us. After some deep snow trekking slows us down and tires a few of us we circle back round the valley and head back towards Gradina. Now driving into the wind, the cold quickly takes its toll, turning everything to ice - including my tears brought on by the intense wind. The energy of the group seems to transform, more concentrated on the trek and dealing with the elements than prancing like reindeer as we did on our way down. We finally reach Gradina, and the downhill hike to Umoljani is welcomed. The other side of the valley spares us from the wind as two approaching cloud systems close down on us. By the time we reach the village the clear blue skies have turned dark grey and windy snowfall blasts the village.

By then we are all sipping homemade tea in Izmir's place. Fresh herb tea of mint, wild thyme, and chamomile brings the group back to life. Then comes the pita from homegrown potatoes. Pita is sort of the equivalent to the greek spinakopita. That is followed by buttermilk, fresh cheese and wood stove baked potatoes.

We engage Izmir in chat about the future of his village. There are only 14 permanent members left compared to the prewar population of well over 70. The average age is close to its prewar population. Izmir's family is the only one in Umoljani with children. There is no school and the nearest is a fifteen mile hike through impossible terrain for a child. Umoljani was destroyed during the conflict in early 1992, one of the first victims in the Serbs quest to first conquer the highlands around the capital Sarajevo. As old military strategy puts it 'the ones who control the highlands, controls the lowlands.' The old style homes, built with stone and covered with wooden shingles has been replaced by cheap red block structures provided by the international community. Although the village maintains its traditional way of life, the architectural integrity has been forever sacrificed....yet another lost trace of these ancient highlanders. Izmir no longer believes in the survival of his home. He is more than convinced that with time, when the elders die out, Umoljani will only be a place for families to return with their flocks in the summer months. Winter here, too long and lonely, is no longer bearable with the collapse of all the social services provided in Yugoslavia days. We provoke him with other options. Eco-tourism and organic agriculture are two viable and sustainable alternatives that we have applied in similar regions in BiH. They have worked, and people have been able to maintain their ways of life - at least as much as possible given the current political, social and economic conditions that dominate present day Bosnian life. Again, Izmir is skeptical, and sure no one would return even if ideal conditions were possible. 'People have gotten a taste of the city...we were cleansed from here over thirteen years ago, our kids have grown up down in the valley where they have school and we can find work.'

This once again confirmed our notion -- the reconstruction of Bosnia and Herzegovina, however noble and well-intended, has utterly failed in finding long term sustainable solutions for a country that is 65% rural. Without the social infrastructures to accompany their rebuilt homes, without exploring and introducing other options for the highlanders, the few remaining portals to Old World Europe will soon be dead. And with their death we lose the indigenous knowledge that is vital to our survival. Our quickly changing world will inevitably require us to simplify and harmonize our lifestyles. It is these cultures, whether the last remaining European highlanders or the Andean Quechua's that provide us with a door to our past. And perhaps more importantly, the key to our future.