#kiseljak

[postcard-from-the-past]

Schvab Hotel in Kiseljak, Bosnia and Herzegovina

Austrian vintage postcard

[elenaire-sarince-aicassea]

Fourth OC (Original Character): Eärwen/Aiaruen III Findaringwë (Uncolorized ver.)

"Eärwen Findaringwë was dressed in a beautiful gown of the same colour, darker like the evening sky with the shiny silver stars and the blossoms of Nipherdil in it. And her ice-blonde hair was covered by her pure black scarf so she could avoid any suspicions from her people's sights."

—The Elemmírion Chapter 4: The Noble Rendezvous

Aiaruen (or Eärwen) III Findaringwë Vanyalossëa Angalossiel was the sole daughter of Ailinsardo, Lord of the Teleri in Ossë's Reef and Angalossëa, Lady of the Teleri in Oiomúrë and was born on 28 July (28. Srpnja) in the mid-Fifth Age (3570 BCE) in Oiomúrë, Aman. She was also the eldest half-sister of Lord Eärsarno of Hvar, Aunt of Lady Halatirnë II of Hvar, wife of the mortal Baron Prijam Ismetović of Kiseljak, mother of twins Elenhéru (Izaije) and Elentári (Izika/Izraela), and co-matriarch of Dragović–Ismetović family of Kiseljak and Sarajevo.

Description: Aiaruen III was described as tall (6.1 m—unscaled), fair-skinned, ice-blond-haired (however she covered it with her black scarf and a large head cap embroidered with a half-water lily and three Fleur-de-lis/Bosnian Lilies), donning her pure black dress embroidered with Nipherdil blossoms. On her left side was her significant heraldic sigil—four Bosnian Lilies (Bosanski Ljiljan), four bluebells/Zvoncice and four large rays for each corner with two dark blue circular lines behind.

I will draw another one without her head covering later.....

[annci]

I MADE SOME FUCKASS HEADCANONS ABOUT FEDERACIJE BOSNE I HERCEGOVINE ITS LIKE A BIRTHDAY SPECIAL I GUESS ??

sorry that it’s so long

1. Her name is Esma Osmanović, i took the name from the song Za Esmu since i glaze bijelo dugme. will SOMETIMES go by the name Metikoš

2. Back in the day she used to wear her hair in two braids, so that she could show that she was unmarried. Then it stuck to her so she never bothered to change her hairstyle. (trust)

3. WHICH BRINGS ME TO MY SECOND POINT, her hair is so damaged to the point where she refuses to let it down so she uses the ”braid” part as an excuse. Meanwhile she’s not fooling anyone lol

4. 170 cm and stopped growing when she turned 18, tries to convince people that she’s taller

5. I’ve genuinley decided that she sounds like Nataša Živković from grupa Zana, it fits her so well

6. Carries around a oklagija as if it’s the most important thing in her life, probably targets and hits srpska with it whenever he pisses her off

7. I’d say that she has roots from around Sarajevo, specifically in lukomir. It’s one of the oldest villages in Bosnia so it would only make sense that she would be from there. Plus, bosniaks originated from the central, eastern parts of the country.

8. Her ass probably lies and says that she’s from Kiseljak since she dosen’t want to be associated with Sarajevo due to Enis and his behaviour, even if she has an obnoxious sarajevo accent.

9. Probably a massive fan of poems, especially poems that came from partisans. Her favorite one is Ne šumi neretvo plava and Mostarske kiše, Mostarsko mati.

10. Her relationship with Enis is probably daughter father type of thing. Since she was born around the late-middle period of the ottoman empire, after the bosnian uprising. Which meant that she had mixed feelings about the empire as she grew, but it was also due to Enis being a part of the uprising.

11. Held a grudge against hercegovina for not supporting the uprising, the uprising failed since they didn’t get the support they were expecting from Hercegovinians.

12. Has cold hands for whatever reason

13. She dosen’t like srpska neither does she hate him. They’re just stuck together and they both know that they can’t do anything about it. She can get along with him on good days aswell.

14. Esma and sandžak are somehow related to eachother. It might be due to the fact that sandžak was apart of the Bosnia at one point during history, which meant that settlers from bosnia decided to stay in sandžak.

15. Was a folklorašica at one point during her life, made an incorrect move and embarrassed herself

16. Probably hates men

17. Never had a ”sister, brother” relationship with Republika Bosne i Hercegovine like people think. They were close, but they never had that type of relationship with eachother. The reason i think this is because RBIH mostly represent the bosniaks during the 90’s, which means that he would’ve started to exist in the 70’s, 80’s and not before.

while i want Federacija to represent bosniaks way before the 90’s and the things they’ve done throughout history.

18. Claims that she’s more religious than Enis. She carries a tespih around, even if she hasn’t prayed since 2002 (tespih is a prayer bead)

19. HAS A LITTLE SHEEP THAT’S CALLED MEHO AND SHE’S HAD IT SINCE HER CHILDHOOD

20. Used to sob her eyes out as a child whenever Enis said that he would ”kill” meho for kurban bajram. Ran to hercegovina for help, only for herce to reply with ”who’s kid is this?”

21. Never ever changed her name, she was and always has been Esma. She wasn’t like Enis who had 5 different names throughout history

22. Will point out every kanton in BIH that she hates and will explain why she does aswell, even if she dosen’t have a reason to.

23. The relationship between her and hercegovina is one sided and it’s due to esma seeing hercegovina as a motherly figure if that makes sense??? She’s seen how hercegovina protects herself and it kinda gives her a motherly aura. While hercegovina dosen’t see federacija as a daughter at all. She just sees her as a random ass person who lives with Bosnia, nothing else.

It might’ve been due to the fact that federacije misunderstood when Enis told her that hercegovina didn’t support the uprising, she probably forgot about it and moved one while hercegovina didn’t, held a grudge until she eventually forgot about it aswell

24. Is basically chill with herce now, they sit and gossip while eating seeds on the balcony

25. Believes that brčko should belong to her

26. Loves mountains because they’ve always protected her. Genuinley thinks AND genuinley believes that the mountains are her gaurdians throughout history

27. LOVES LOVES LOVES LOVES SEVDALINKEEEE, her favorite artists are probably Safet isovic, Himzo polovina, Silvana armenulic and Nada mamula.

28. Weird ass headcanon but she covers her hair whenever she makes burek or any type of pita. Despises when people come in and interupt her

29. Even if she says that she’s from kiseljak, she lives in a small little village around Sarajevo (not lukomir) for whatever reason. Refuses to move back to lukomir despite being from there lol

30. Visits Enis and the rest that live with him, forgets about the village for like 3 weeks and then decides to go back

31. Has a picture of Alija izetbegovic and Gavrilo princip framed above her tv for whatever reason

AND HERES MEHO SO THAT YOU KNOW WHAT IM TALKING ABOUT

[kamaradka]

13 year old sasha was deeply obsessed with nonamerican alternstives to usamerican soft drink brands. other than kofola and cockta i also deeply loved this one oregon bosnian restaurant which had kiseljak+syrup on the menu like an italian soda... rose kiseljak spritser i felt like such a beautiful little faggot

[zbwrites]

A car that almost cost me… me!

Let me tell you about the day I almost didn’t make it, because of a car.

Now you’re thinking he must have had a close shave while crossing a busy road. That’s not what happened! I almost didn’t make it because someone liked the car I was driving! And didn’t like me. And he had a gun. A REAL gun, an assault rifle — an AK-47! A Kalashnikov! If you don’t know what kind of a rifle that is, Google it, I’ll wait right here.

The guy with the rifle also had a group of soldiers at his command, each with his own AK-47, while all I had was Javier and his letter. At the end, that proved to be enough. But I’m getting ahead of myself here. Okay, let me start from the beginning. Not the “once upon a time” beginning, just the beginning of that day.

I was staying in Kiseljak, a small town at the other side of the mountains from which the siege of Sarajevo was laid. From Kiseljak, we covered news stories our team from Sarajevo couldn’t reach, because, well — they couldn’t get in and out of the city. We rented a house near the centre of the town as our base. On this occasion, two Spanish photographers stayed with me at the house, Santi and Javier.

Here I must take you on a detour to tell you about Javier. He’s important for this story. Quite likely, if it weren’t for Javier, there’d probably be no one to tell the story. He was a tall, lanky fellow whose long limbs were in perpetual motion, whether for the purpose of propelling him around, or for adding gesticulating flavour to whatever he was talking about. Because he was in constant movement, my memories of him are like those pictures of old when a person is in motion blur: you can tell he’s moving, but you can’t see his features clearly. Here are some in-focus facts (sorry about the photographers’ puns): Javier was a young man in his mid-twenties, with a shock of curly, light-brown hair and a Quixotish goatee. He was a freelance photographer on contract with Spanish print media. He arrived at the Associated Press office in Zagreb tagging along his best friend Santiago, an equally tall and lanky photographer, albeit with much more controlled moves. Santiago — Santi — was an AP staff photographer on his way to join the crew in Sarajevo, Bosnia. The duo ended up in Kiseljak hoping to catch a ride with a UN convoy, or another media crew going to Sarajevo.

The two of them arrived in a Suzuki Vitara with an Austrian licence. If you’re not a car person, please bear with me — introducing this car is important for what transpired later. So, about the Vitara: it was a souped-up metallic-grey mini SUV. By “souped up” I don’t mean any of the things that could come in handy, like mud or winter tires, a winch to help extricate the car if the wheels get stuck in mud, a roof rack where one could put extra fuel canisters, or anything that could help a person driving through Bosnia, where to avoid being blown to pieces meant driving the backcountry mountain roads. This “all-terrain” vehicle had none of the useful stuff. Instead, it had fancy low-profile, wide sport tires for asphalt and lots of buttons: power windows, power locks, fog lights, and other confusing flashing buttons whose purpose I didn’t have the time nor the patience to explore. The car was so tiny that the two tall photographers could fit in only if their seats were practically jammed against the back seat, making the Vitara effectively a car for two.

It’s unclear who rented the car, but it soon became the butt of endless jokes, as the SUV which can’t handle neither the rain nor rugged terrain. Rhyme intended.

At that time in Bosnia, one can categorize vehicles on the road in four categories: UN vehicles, painted white, usually large all-terrain vehicles such as Landrover Defender, Nissan Pathfinder, or similar; media vehicles, also painted white, also of the same large all-terrain kind, with “press” signs or the logo of the media outlet clearly displayed; military vehicles belonging to any of the armies or militias involved in the conflict, older and painted camouflage green; and a variety of beat-up vehicles driven by those few local civilians who could still scrounge for gas, in a variety of colours and degrees of rust. So, yes — the little Vitara stood out!

On that morning, Javier, Santi, and I were making plans for the day. Javier had a letter from someone in the Spanish defence ministry for a Spanish UN commander based in Jablanica, another small town an hour or so drive from Kiseljak. We decided that Javier and I would take the Vitara, drive to Jablanica, get some feature pictures[1] along the way, and try to deliver the letter, while Santi drove my Russian-made Lada Niva for the day. The reason being, we didn’t need a rugged car since the road between Kiseljak and Jablanica was paved and still undamaged by fighting. I admit, there was a moment when the thought of driving a comfortable vehicle was appealing. A friend once observantly pointed out that driving a Lada Niva was good for kidney health, sure to break your kidney stones into fine sand. Its suspension was rock hard, and seats only marginally softer than wooden benches, with a real danger of leaving one with serious bruising on the sitting parts. After weeks of driving the Lada, I could be forgiven for jumping at the opportunity for a ride with working suspension. So, Javier and I folded ourselves into the Vitara and drove off.

[1]: Feature picture is a term we used for stand-alone images which are not necessarily going with any particular news story, but illustrate the situation on the field. A generic, if you will, picture that can go with any story coming from Bosnia. For example, a shepherd in a sheepskin vest with a rifle over his shoulder was one such picture.

It was a pleasant drive. We made a few stops to take pictures and crossed a tall, curved bridge connecting two picturesque cliffs, slowly rolling into town. Now, you need to know that photographers see a picture everywhere, and photojournalists often imagine a whole scene that could play out in that picture. Crossing the bridge and looking at the cliffs around, Javier mused about a shot of a UN convoy — a SPANISH UN convoy — crossing it, taken from a high vantage point, a picture he could send to a magazine he freelanced for. Since the Spanish UN troops were based in the town, there was a pretty good chance he could get his shot if he’s willing to wait. As for the high angle — we saw an apartment building with a parking lot on a hill above the bridge and pulled over to take a look.

A couple of HVO soldiers[2] smoked in front of the entrance to the building. They leaned against the wall, their AK-47s slung casually on their shoulders. We got out of the car and I chatted with the soldiers, while Javier walked to the edge of the parking lot to check the picture angle. The soldiers welcomed a distraction, bored on their guard duty. They asked the usual questions — where we’re from, which news outlet we’re working for (since, with our cameras dangling around our necks, it was obvious we were journalists) and, of course, what were we doing there. One of them saw Javier disappearing behind the bush surrounding the parking lot and said between two puffs on the cigarette, “Tell your friend no pictures of the bridge. Strategic position[3].”

[2]: HVO stands for Hrvatsko Vijece Obrane = Croatian Defence Council, which was the de facto army of Bosnian Croats.

[3]: We all knew that was bullshit. The Bosnian war was all about neighbors fighting neighbors. The forces they were “protecting” the bridge from were the guys who lived beside them in the area and knew the bridge and its position as well as the yokels guarding it.

In covering the war, one of the crucial skills for a reporter is learning not to roll his eyes in front of a guy with the gun. I nodded, called Javier back and told him no pictures were allowed. He just shrugged.

“Too many trees anyway, can’t get a clear shot,” he said.

We thanked the soldiers, wished them good luck and got back into Vitara. As I reversed it out of the lot, a third person appeared through the door and exchanged a few words with the soldiers. He was bareheaded and wore no jacket, only a military sweater. I turned to back out the car and didn’t see them waving at us to stop until Javier put his hand on my knee.

“Zoran, stop!” — he hissed — “They are going to shoot us!”

Sure enough, the bareheaded guy held the AK-47 he must have grabbed from one of the guards, pointed at us and was ready to shoot, his fingers already on the trigger. I slammed the brake and we both put our hands in the air.

“Out!” — the bareheaded soldier yelled, motioning sideways with the tip of the rifle. We obliged and stood to the side he indicated, then were promptly dragged inside the building into a room near the entrance. The room was dark, small, and less than spartan. It had only a narrow horizontal window facing the parking lot, a dark and stained wooden floor baring marks and dirt of many boots. At one side was a single desk with a chair. Two classroom chairs were dragged into the room, and we were ordered to sit facing the desk. For a while, the commotion continued as more soldiers appeared, bringing our gear into the room and dumping it on the floor. The bareheaded man, who turned out to be the commander of the unit, finally entered and sat behind the desk, scowling at us. He was of an average height, sturdy built with receding hair and a weathered face which was all lines and sharp angles as if made of rock his town was built on. His eyes were black ice. He leaned in his chair and measured us silently. It was a schoolbook intimidation technique at its most basic. We sat quietly, waiting to see what happened next. Whether the barehead decided we were intimidated enough or just got impatient, he finally addressed us, asking who we were, what we were doing there, and demanding to see our IDs. We started lining up our documents on his desk. When we were finished, in front of him were Javier’s Spanish and my Croatian passports; both of our UN-issued IDs, confirming us as journalists; Javier’s Spanish Press ID; my HVO permit, and my Croatian-government-issued Press ID identifying me as a journalist sanctioned by the Croatian Ministry of Information.

Minutes dragged on while the barehead checked all this. Then he did the shorter version of the silent scowl again. Finally, he leaned his elbows on the desk and said: “You’re spies.”

Now, that in the war — ANY war — is a serious accusation, an almost death sentence. I translated it to Javier and we both started talking over each other, asking him to check our identities with any of the organizations whose IDs we carried. As if a guy from Jablanica could (or would) ring the UN office in Sarajevo, Zagreb, or Geneva. Or call the Ministry of Information. As if he even intended to prove his accusation. The more we pleaded, the more satisfied his smirk became. He repeated “you are spies” a few more times, calmly, obviously enjoying himself.

We grew quiet, staring at him, bewildered. Then Javier turned to me.

“Zoran, please translate what I’m going to say, word by word.”

Seeing my questioning look, he shook his head slightly and said “Trust me.” So I did.

Javier told him he’d been sent by the Spanish Defence Minister to do a story on Spanish troops serving under the UN, which were based in Jablanica. He was tasked with delivering a letter to the Spanish commander in town. He produced the letter from an inner pocket of his photo vest. It was in a sealed envelope which bore the sigil of the Defence Ministry of Spain. It was just the right dose of bullshit mixed in truth that it could work.

At the sight of the letter, uncertainty froze the smirk on the barehead’s face. To spice it all up, Javier added that we were expected at the Spanish base. He didn’t say it out loud, but he implied that the UN may be looking for us if we don’t show up. Ingenious! And how I wished any of that was true!

The barehead took the letter, turned it over, weighed it in his hands. I thought he might sniff it next. It was a conundrum he didn’t foresee. Finally, he said “I don’t believe you.”

But then, after a beat, he told two soldiers to gear up and escort us to the Spanish UN camp.

“Don’t let them go in. Make them hand over the letter and bring them back!” — he ordered.

To this day, I’m not quite sure how he thought the guards would be able to do this, detain us — well, detain Javier, a Spanish citizen — in clear view of Spanish armed forces. Maybe he was just gambling with the losing hand of cards he held.

While we walked down the road bookended by the two unenthusiastic guards, I asked Javier how he knew the barehead wouldn’t open the letter.

“I didn’t,” he shrugged, “but it was safe to presume he didn’t know Spanish and the letter is in Spanish. Even if he opened it, it wouldn’t matter!”

Another gamble happened as we approached the gate. I already told Javier how the guards were instructed to bring us back as soon as he handed over the letter. So, as we approached, he shouted in Spanish, identifying himself as a Spanish journalist detained by these soldiers and asked for protection. He may have — probably had — mentioned he had the letter for their commanding officer. In any case, Spanish soldiers at the gate pointed their rifles our way. On the watchtower next to the gate, padded with white sandbags, a heavy machine gun turned slowly towards our little quartet. We were ordered to stop while two blue-helmeted soldiers took our UN IDs — Javier also gave him his passport, bless him! — and seconds later, an officer appeared. He greeted us in Spanish, shook our hands, and cheerfully chatted with Javier in rapid Spanish I could not understand. The commander waved over a young, tall soldier, who turned out to be an interpreter. After a short exchange with the commander, he turned to our HVO escorts and told them that we’ll stay at the base.

“But, we have orders to bring them back,” stammered one of the guards.

“The commander will contact your superiors and explain the misunderstanding,” said the translator, and the Spanish officer motioned us to enter.

It was refreshing letting Javier do all the talking in the commander’s office. We were offered sandwiches and drinks, phone calls were made, soldiers and interpreters rushed in and out of the office, and finally we were bundled in a UN vehicle alongside the Spanish commander and another officer, followed by a large white APC[4] which took us back to the building where it all started.

[4]: Armoured Personnel Carrier, an oversized bulletproof six-wheeler vehicle with a machine gun on top. I guess in the safety protocol an APC must follow the commander, but also served as a show of force to local warlords.

The Croatian side also didn’t sit idle while we were away. A long table was prepared, local dignitaries arrived, šljivovica (plum brandy) was offered. The barehead commander shook hands with the Spanish commander, smiled at us, and wagged his index finger in mock reprimand, as if we were notty kids pulling a mischief that he finds reproachfully entertaining. Silently I wished him to choke on his brandy.

A man in charge of the town[5] tried to make a political speech and was politely interrupted by the Spanish commander, who explained that everything is obviously a misunderstanding and demanded to have all our gear and possessions returned so that we can get on the way. This was translated, but the mayor figure and the barehead dragged on the small talk until the Spanish stood up. They led us to the office where we were first interrogated, where our cameras and gear still lay on the floor. We were asked to empty the films from the cameras, a face-saving request from the locals which the Spanish commander granted for the sake of avoiding tension and speeding up our departure. Then we waited for the car. It wasn’t at the parking lot nor behind the building. It vanished. We were told it was moved to make space for army vehicles. While we waited, the night descended. We could tell something was amiss but couldn’t quite figure out what.

[5]: I’m not certain Jablanica had a position of mayor, but if it did, this person was the mayor, or the equivalent.

Finally, the Vitara drove in and stopped in front of us. For a minute, we gaped open-mouthed at it; when they dragged us from it, the Vitara was so covered in mud that it was impossible to see its real colour. The car we now stared at unbelievingly was sparkling clean inside and out! Someone had taken a lot of pain to wash it in such detail!

“Well, at least we got a good car wash from all this!” I told Javier. We laughed about it all the way back to Kiseljak.

—————

A few months later, a photographer friend of mine met me for drinks in a café in Zagreb.

“You’re buying,” he said. Then he told me why.

He had just returned from a stint in Bosnia. On his assignment, he drove through Jablanica, where he picked up a couple of HVO soldiers hitchhiking a ride to their base. They chatted, he offered them cigarettes, and in a friendly, joking atmosphere, they told him a story about two Spanish journalists they had detained recently.

The Spaniards showed up in a small, really fancy Japanese Jeep, or some such. They stopped right in front of the HVO headquarters for the town, and the HVO officer in charge saw the car from the window. He wanted it immediately. He wanted it so much that he was ready to make the journalists disappear. The easiest thing to do that in the war was to accuse them of spying and send them to a concentration camp. So, that’s what he did. The poor SOBs were going to disappear either on the way to the camp or in it. Everything was going according to plan until one of the journalists turned out to work for the Spanish Defence Ministry and was on the way to a meeting at the UN base in town.

Laughing, the soldiers described to my friend the officer’s face and rage when he realized he couldn’t get away with it and had to return the car.

“And he already had it washed and parked in front of his house!” — the soldiers said, tearing with laughter.

[pazaryerigundem]

Bursa’dan Bosna-Hersek'e Uluslararası köprü

https://pazaryerigundem.com/haber/219443/bursadan-bosna-herseke-uluslararasi-kopru/ -

Bursa’dan Bosna-Hersek'e Uluslararası köprü

Yunus Emre Enstitüsü’nün destekleriyle, Bursa İl Millî Eğitim Müdürlüğü koordinasyonunda yürütülen uluslararası kardeş okul ağı çalışmaları kapsamında, Sakarya Ortaokulu ile Bosna-Hersek’te bulunan OŠ “Kiseljak 1” Bilalovic Okulu arasında kardeş okul protokolü imzalandı.

BURSA (İGFA) – Bursa’dan Bosna-Hersek’e Uluslararası kardeşlik köprüsü kuruldu. Hamidiye Tarım MTAL ev sahipliğinde düzenlenen törene İl Millî Eğitim Müdür Yardımcısı Bülent Altıntaş, İlçe Millî Eğitim Müdürlüğü yöneticileri, okul müdürleri, öğretmenler ve öğrenciler katıldı.

Törende konuşan İl Millî Eğitim Müdür Yardımcısı Bülent Altıntaş, kardeş okul protokolünün sadece iki okul arasında değil, iki ülke gençliği arasında da güçlü bir gönül köprüsü oluşturduğunu ifade etti. Altıntaş, “Eğitim, sadece sınıflarda verilen bilgiyle sınırlı değildir. Öğrencilerimizin farklı kültürlerle temas kurmaları, dünya vatandaşı olma yolunda önemli bir adımdır. Bu tür iş birlikleriyle öğrencilerimizin kültürel farkındalığı gelişirken, evrensel değerlere sahip bireyler olarak yetişmeleri desteklenmiş oluyor. Bu protokol ile hem akademik hem de insani yönden güçlü bireyler yetiştirme amacımıza bir adım daha yaklaşıyoruz. Geride bıraktığımız hafta ilimizi ziyaret eden Yunus Emre Enstitüsü Bosna-Hersek Koordinatörü Sayın Mehmet Akif Yaman’ın bu sürece yönelik sunduğu rehberlik ve kültürel destek, iş birliğimizi daha da anlamlı kılıyor.” dedi.

Sakarya Ortaokulu Müdürü Erhan Şimşek, öğrencilerin farklı kültürel değerlerle buluşarak iletişim becerilerini geliştirme ve dünya vatandaşı olma yönünde önemli kazanımlar elde edeceğini vurgularken OŠ “Kiseljak 1” Bilalovic Okulu Müdürü Nermin Merhemić de, Türk eğitim sistemiyle kurulacak bu kardeşlik köprüsünden büyük memnuniyet duyduklarını ifade etti.

İmzalanan kardeş okul protokolü; eğitimde iş birliği, kültürel etkileşim ve öğrenciler arasında kalıcı dostluklar kurulmasını hedefliyor. Bu kapsamda öğrenci ve öğretmen değişimleri, iyi uygulamaların paylaşılması, ortak projeler, kültürel ve eğitsel ziyaretler gibi çok yönlü faaliyetler planlanıyor.

[mariacallous]

Amid an ongoing vote count and elections overshadowed by deadly landslides and floods, it was already clear on Monday that no big changes in municipal governance will follow the October 6 local elections in Bosnia and Herzegovina. 

Major national parties did not gain much support in big cities such as Banja Luka, Tuzla or Zenica in the elections. But their grip over smaller towns remains as strong as before. 

Turnout at Sunday’s elections was just above 47 per cent.

The new mayor of Srebrenica in eastern Bosnia, a hot topic among Bosniak and Serb political parties, will be a Serb, Milos Vucic – a cousin of Serbian President Aleksandar Vucic who has been living in Srebrenica since 1995. Vucic declared victory on Sunday night. 

Drasko Stanivukovic, from the Party of Democratic Progress, PDP, the sitting mayor of Banja Luka, the administrative centre of Bosnia’s Serb-dominated entity, Republika Srpska, will stay in office for another four years. 

Milorad Dodik, president of the Alliance of Independent Social Democrats, SNSD, said the main Bosnian Serb party got “44 per cent of the votes in Republika Srpska”.

The SNSD won 81 per cent of mayoral contests in Republika Srpska, or 51 out of 63 municipalities and towns. They will also have two mayors in the Federation entity,

In Banja Luka, the biggest city in Republika Srpska, Dodik said the SNSD “did not lose Banja Luka, we just didn’t win it.”

When it comes to the Federation entity, coalitions of the so-called Trojka parties kept most of the mayoral seats they held before. Zijad Lugavic will remain mayor of Tuzla; the mayors of Mostar and Sarajevo are chosen indirectly by the cities’ councils. 

In Sarajevo municipalities, the situation has not changed except in Novo Sarajevo Municipality, where current Sarajevo mayor, Benjamina Karic, is leading the race.

The incumbent mayor of Trnovo, Ibro Berilo, candidate of the main Bosniak party, the Party of Democratic Action, SDA, again won a mandate. Besides Trnovo, the SDA won 34 mayoral seats in total, eight more than in 2020. 

The Croatian Democratic Union, HDZ party, the biggest Croat party in Bosnia, dominated the race in municipalities with a Croat majority. However, compared to 2020, when HDZ held 20 mayoral offices, this year it won 17. 

Elections in Jablanica, Konjic, Kresevo, Kiseljak and Fojnica have been postponed, as these municipalities were struck by floods and landslides on October 4. The Central Election Commission, CEC, has a deadline of 30 days to decide when the elections will be held there. 

Watchdog organisations and the CEC reported numerous irregularities on polling day, including attempted vote buying, pressure on voters and problems with fingerprint scanners – which were tested at a limited number of polling stations.

A total of 26,089 certified candidates, of whom 10,983 were women, competed for 3,400,204 registered voters, including 44,789 people who were voting from abroad.

[ridikaislamsblog]



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Al menos 20 muertos por las inundaciones de los últimos días en el centro de Bosnia, según un nuevo balance

PorNewsroom Infobae

06 Oct, 2024 10:48 a.m. EST



Al menos 20 personas han muerto y decenas más siguen desaparecidas en el centro de Bosnia por las inundaciones que se han cebado especialmente con la ciudad de Jablanica, en la provincia de Herzegovina-Neretva. En las últimas horas se han localizado dos nuevos cuerpos sin vida que hacen que se incremente el balance de 18 fallecidos del que se informó el sábado. Al menos 15 de las víctimas mortales corresponden a Jablanica, dos más han fallecido en Buturevica Polje, en la región de Konjic, y tres más en Fojnica, según informa la televisión pública bosnia, BHRT. Hay numerosas localidades aisladas y carreteras cortadas principalmente entre Mostar y Jablanica que dificultan el movimiento de los servicios de emergencia. Mientras, más de 300 voluntarios trabajan junto a los servicios de emergencia para ayudar a la población coordinados por Protección Civil. Las autoridades han advertido de que la gente no intervenga por su cuenta, sino que se ponga a disposición de Protección Civil. Como novedad, el Ministerio de Seguridad bosnio ha solicitado ayuda internacional a través del Mecanismo de Protección Civil de la UE y una docena de países han respondido durante la noche con compromisos para el envío de recursos. En concreto, Croacia, Serbia y Eslovenia enviarán equipos de rescate y también hay ayuda en camino desde Montenegro, Macedonia del Norte, Polonia, República Checa o Turquía. "Nuestros corazones y pensamientos están con el pueblo de Bosnia y Herzegovina, afectado por inundaciones devastadoras", ha manifestado la presidenta de la Comisión Europea, Ursula von der Leyen. "Hemos activado nuestro Mecanismo de Protección Civil de la UE y estamos enviando equipos de rescate al terreno. Esta es la solidaridad de la UE en acción", ha añadido en su cuenta de la red social X. También hay numerosas personas que han quedado sin hogar y que han sido alojadas en hoteles o en casas de amigos o familiares. También se han habilitado polideportivos en los que se han instalado camas para desplazados o trabajadores de los servicios de emergencia. La zona ha sido declarada escenario de un desastre natural, como también ha ocurrido en las poblaciones de Kiseljak, Kresevo, Fojnica y Vares, según ha anunciado la portavoz de la Administracion Federal para la Protección Civil (FUCZ), Majda Kovac. "En Drvar la situación está bajo control, pero la Cruz Roja está en alerta. En Kiseljak hay una operación en marcha para limpiar las casas anegadas y hay unos 200 voluntarios trabajando. En Jablanica, Konjic, Fojnica y Kresevo seguimos trabajando para distribuir kits de higiene, alimentos y agua", ha apuntado una portavoz de la Cruz Roja bosnia, Lamija Alic. La nota positiva de la jornada del domingo la ha puesto el rescate con vida de un niño que había quedado atrapado bajo dos toneladas de escombros en su casa de Donja Jablanica. Ha podido ser extraído y ya ha sido trasladado al Hospital Cantonal de Mostar.

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[masar-albosna]

للبيع ارض 10 دونم=10,000م٢ مميزة في📍 هادجيتش-(Hadžići)🇧🇦

اطلالة خيالية على المنطقة-موقع مميز-قريبة من جميع الخدمات-المنطقة حيوية-البعد من وسط البلدية 4دقائق-البعد من منتجع سراييفو 15دقيقة-البعد عن مطار سراييفو 20 دقيقة وعن وسط اليدجا 15 دقيقة-تصلح لعمل مشروع سكني او تقطيع الارض وبيعها كقطع اراضي سكنية وهذا يعتمد على المشتري وامكانياته…

للمستثمرين الجادين التواصل على رقم:

#الدكتور_نور_الدين_بدر

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رابط للتحويل للواتس اب مباشرة

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🔴#شركة_مسار_البوسنة_القابضة_ذ.م.م_سراييفو_للتطوير_العقاري_والخدمات_السياحية_والتجارة_العامة🔴.

✔️عنوان الشركة🏢

البوسنة🇧🇦 ، مدينة سراييفو ، بلدية اليدجا، الشارع 🛣: Ibrahima ljubovića 2

🔴ما عليكم سوى الاشتراك(🆗SUBSCRIBE) في القناة ليصلكم كل جديد من عقار وسياحة اول باول...

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💥تابعونا على الحسابات التالية: يشرفنا تواجدكم💥

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#سياحة #سياحة_البوسنة #bih

#BiH #bosnaihercegovina #masaralbosna #شركة_مسار #شركة_مسار_البوسنة #Masar_Albosna_Holding_Company_doo_Sarajevo #مسار_البوسنة_وجهتك #شركة_مسار_البوسنة_القابضة_ذ.م.م_سراييفو #شركة_مسار_البوسنة_القابضة #مسار_البوسنة #masaralbosna #masar_albosna #تأجير_سيارت_حديثة_تأمين_شامل_في_البوسنة_والهرسك #مسار_البوسنة #شركات_البوسنة #دليلك_الشامل_في_البوسنة_والهرسك

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[coffeenewstom]

Bosnischer Kaffee-Moment: 308

Der Bus hatte sich im Menschenstrom festgefahren. Irgendwo zwischen Bratunac und Potočari blieb er einfach stecken. Ausgestiegen aus dem Bus bot sich eine Szenerie, wie auf einem improvisierten Volksfest. Aus großen Plastiktonnen mit Wasser wurden die dort gekühlten Getränkeflaschen verkauft – manche hatten im Wasserbad ihre Etiketten verloren, so dass man ihren Inhalt erraten musste. Oder man…

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Aiaruen III Findaringwë Vanyalossëa Angalossiel—Elf-Lady of Kiseljak (Watercolor Version)

This is the watercolour version of the 4th OC of the Elemmírion.

Aiaruen (or Eärwen) III Findaringwë Vanyalossëa Angalossiel was the sole daughter of Ailinsardo, Lord of the Teleri in Ossë's Reef and Angalossëa, Lady of the Teleri in Oiomúrë and was born [on 28 July (28. Srpnja)] in the mid-Fifth Age (3570 BCE) in Oiomúrë, Aman.

She was also the.....

1. Eldest half-sister of Lord Eärsarno of Hvar; Sister-in-law of Lady Nemmíriel of Krka

2. Aunt of Lady Halatirnë II of Hvar

3. Wife of the mortal Baron Prijam Ismetović of Kiseljak

4. Mother of twins Elenhéru (Izaije) and Elentári (Izika/Izraela), and co-matriarch of Dragović–Ismetović family of Kiseljak and Sarajevo.

5. Foster Aunt of the mortals Ante Stjepan the Wise and Samia the Traitor

6. Great-aunt of the numerous members of the Dragović-Uilóth Family—Jaroslava, Dženan, Aiarnēri (Aiardil Alatarāto & Marko Stjepan/Aiarnāro), and Enver Diomed (or rarely known as Artacalo).

Description: Aiaruen III was described as tall (6.1 m—unscaled), fair-skinned, ice-blond-haired (however she covered it with her black scarf and a large head cap embroidered with a half-water lily and three Fleur-de-lis/Bosnian Lilies), donning her pure black and navy blue dress embroidered with Nipherdil blossoms and silvery glitters. She held her black ebony cane, which belonged to her fourth mortal generation member Jasmin Dragović. On her left side were her significant heraldic sigil [four Bosnian Lilies (Bosanski Ljiljan), four bluebells/Zvoncice and four large rays for each corner with two dark blue circular lines behind] and the menorah-inspired candelabrum as a gift from her husband Prijam.

Edit: my watercolour art is not even better. Pardon me.

[aconestate-blog]

Acon Estate Care Vaše nekretnine prepustite Acon Estate širokom lancu klijenata, čime ćete postići uspješnu prodaju po najboljim uslovima. Acon Estate Care je trenutno dostupan samo u Bosni i Hercegovini. Go to website: http://www.acon.estate/acon-estate-care/ ------ Acon Estate Care is a consulting service for our clients who want to evaluate their properties locally. With this service, we are opening new doors to our customers with real estate management, sales and leasing services, investment appraisal and management services. We are building a bridge between customers and investors. Acon Estate Care service is currently only available in Bosnia and Herzegovina. #Sarajevo #Mostar #Konjic #Bihac #Kiseljak #Trnovo #Tuzla #Zenica #BanjaLuka #Neum #BiH #BosniaandHerzegovina #Bosna #Bosnia #Apartment #Villa #Hotel #Building #Land #Farm #property #properties #Acon #AconEstate #AconProperties #AconEstateProperties #AconEstateCare (Acon Real Estate)

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🌱 #vena #kiseljak #salad #fooddecoration #plant #fresh #farmerlife #farming #growfood #stayathome #ostanikodkuce #bugarskipower🔥 (у месту Salate Bugarski Doo) https://www.instagram.com/p/B-Z-QSkp9zT/?igshid=m2g2tpzd2mm8

[ketamie]

okay wyd when. i went to the cafeteria in the most mismatched like fashion disaster moment with hiking trousers hiking shoes a christmas sweater and a black coat. muslim beard. and then i went to the store and got a protein drink orange flavored domaćica and sparkling water (kiseljak) because that post about people drinking sparkling water made me mad. and now i'm watching dr house clips on youtube for no reason. several reasons actually but i won't say it. oh and i redacted redacted so the cage is.

[antidayton]

UBIJEN UBICA EDIN GAČIĆ!!!

UBIJEN UBICA EDIN GAČIĆ!!!

UBIJEN UBICA EDIN GAČIĆ!!!

Edin Gačić za kojim se tragalo već danima po Bosni i Hercegovini, danas je u razmjeni vatre sa policijom, ubijen u Kiseljaku.

Za sada nema još puno detalja o tome kako je došlo do susreta policije za bjeguncem i kako je došlo do razmjene vatre u kojoj je jedan policajac lakše ranjen.

AntiDayton pokret

Preuzeto: klix.ba

Najtraženijeg bjegunca u BiH Edina Gačića, koji se…

[aconproperties-blog]

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