Sarajevo
1984, in a small communist block of flats in my native Bucharest, we were glued to the screen of our small black-and-white TV as the Sarajevo winter Olympics was broadcasted. Trapped in our own Orwellian reality of totalitarianism, watching the Olympics was an incredible treat – we only had 2 hours of TV broadcast a day, on the single channel that was available, and the vast majority of that was propaganda shows and news about Ceausescu and the latest greatest achievements of our nation.
I remember the voice of the sports commentator who used to describe to us in the minutest detail what colours the athletes were wearing, especially interesting during the opening ceremony and the ice-skating which, alongside the ski jumping, were my favourites. Torvill and Dean’s legendary performance to Ravel’s Bolero is a lasting visual memory and the unusual soundtrack of a long time to follow since everyone became obsessed with it.
Eight years later, Romania was cherishing its freedom while going through the pains of change and trying to understand and embrace its newly established democracy. As a teenager fast-approaching adulthood, those were times of infinite possibilities and excitement. Another round of Olympic games was opening in Barcelona, and this time we enjoyed watching the opening ceremony in full colour. But Sarajevo was in the news again, as it entered what was going to be a 1425-day siege and the bloodiest period of its modern existence, engulfed by war, genocide and daily trauma that will forever haunt its citizens for generations to come.
Last year, exactly 40 years since that memorable winter Olympics, I was in Sarajevo for the first time in my life, for a conference (a lot more about that in a future post). I arrived a few days early so I could explore on my own beforehand. First times are incredible spaces of genuine unhindered discovery, and I revelled in a brief time of solitary contemplation, taking in my surroundings and capturing what grabbed my mind and heart with my camera. I visited three places connected to the 1984 winter Olympics: the bobsleigh on top of Trebević mountain, the cauldron at Koševo stadium and the Olympic Museum. Here is my visual diary from a few hours of solitary contemplation.
