In Sarajevo, a man sits on a suitcase in the main square every day, surrounded by pigeons, and sells birdseed.
In Sarajevo, they brew beer drawn from a lake below a lake below the city.
In Sarajevo, roses bloom from the concrete.
In Sarajevo, a family whose house was on the front lines of the war keeps a rocket shell on their kitchen table. They got it from their own roof.
In Sarajevo, men play life-size chess in the park.
In Sarajevo you can follow the sound of hammer on metal down a narrow lane to find a man making a coffee pot in his shop.
In Sarajevo, up on a hill, is one of the world’s best bob sled tracks. It can’t be used, because it’s surrounded by thousands of land mines.
In Sarajevo they sell pens made of bullets as souveniers.
In Sarajevo you can stand at the synagogue and listen to the call to prayer from the mosque.
In Sarajevo you can wander up up up the hill to an old army baracks, eating a bag of fresh Turkish Delight.
In Sarajevo, a woman working at a 24-hour cafe comes across a group of travelers at 2 a.m. She invites them in for cappuccino, and starts to tell her story – in German, to those who understand. She takes out pictures of her son; a teenager when he was killed in the war, and she lays her head down on the table, and weeps.