The Girl in the Film by Eagar Charlotte

Author:Eagar, Charlotte
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Endeavour Press Ltd.
Published: 2013-05-21T16:00:00+00:00

Mujo and Suljo were staring at their block of flats with some binoculars. Suddenly, Mujo said:

“Here, look at this Suljo, those EC monitors are fucking our wives.”

Suljo: “So, at the moment, we’re monitoring them, and they are the ones who are getting fucked.”

Sarajevo 1994

XIV

In the end, I hardly saw you at all that month, even though I didn’t leave. It wasn’t just that we were all rushed off our feet: you were in the flat – and I couldn’t stay, because of the phones, and particularly not, now the electricity had gone. The plan was that you’d spend Thursday to Saturday working for me, and then I’d go over to you on Sunday morning, but it didn’t work out. With the airport shut, CTV couldn’t get a proper – by which they meant American – crew in, so you and Edin had to do all the work. I’d been pleased for you. It was so good for your career. And you seemed so happy, having your own job to do. You’d been brilliant fixing up people for me to go and see, and had wonderful ideas of how to make things different – the traders who did the walk with supplies in and out of Gorazde, the refugees, the ham radio – but actually, once you’d set things up and rung me about them, I generally went to see these people on my own. I missed you of course, but there was so much to do, and in the evenings I’d hang out with Phil, or we’d go out drinking with Hal and his friends and ask questions.

Gorazde was one of those classic Bosnian crises, like the four weeks of a childhood disease: first spots, quarantine, temperature, a week of high fever, then a tedious week of watching telly wrapped in an eiderdown, half-wishing you could have a relapse to put off going back to school. It was made even better because the Serbs completely sealed Sarajevo; we couldn’t leave and no other journalists could get in. I had great satisfaction the next day in telling the Herald I was trapped. The Herald must have been really strapped for cash, because Roger still said I should leave as soon as I possibly could, when anybody with half a brain could see the way things were going. Luckily, by the following Friday, when Gorazde was constant headline news, he’d taken the other half of his brain out of the account books and had reverted to self-congratulation on having a correspondent in situ, while every other paper was having to file from Split or Kiseljak or Pale or wherever else they’d got as far as before getting stuck.

It was several weeks in, once the fever had broken, and the air strikes we’d all been waiting for the UN and NATO to unleash on the Serbs attacking Gorazde hadn’t happened after all, just as we predicted. The Serbs had been slaked and the dead of Gorazde were being buried beneath a mound of reiterated UN resolutions, when I had a cup of coffee with Ed.

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