Pelagićevo // I Dream a Highway
Pelagićevo // © nacelnik.net
The gardens of Pelagićevo were immaculate. Maybe it was the haze of new romance, but I couldn’t think of a more pristine town in all of Bosnia and Herzegovina. It was flat, every lawn was mowed, the houses tidy. Everything in its right place.
I didn’t stop in Pelagićevo. It would be disingenuous of me to pretend that I did, filling this article with false words of memories I never had. I was on a bus that went through Pelagićevo, a bus that began its journey in Brčko and would end it in Tuzla, although I got on in Orašje. A journey through the Federation of Bosnia and Herzegovina, Pelagićevo represented a nip into Republika Srpska, because geography.
Lončari bus station looks like it is probably the best in the country.
Pelagićevo is a village. What a waste of four words that was. Fewer than 3,000 people live there, but if you’d told me that the population was eight, I would have believed you. Not a soul peeped the streets on that blazing Thursday morning as the bus from Orašje sidled through the town. Yes, I use town and village interchangeably. This is my website. Get over it.
© Turizamrs.org
There wasn’t much to do other than stare out the window, but I was in a stare-out-the-window mood. For one, Pelagićevo was, as mentioned, immaculate, a button-cute village of well-kept gardens and glimmering sunshine. I wanted to get off the bus and wander around, knock on doors, drink coffee with strangers. I didn’t really want to, obviously, but the adorable nature of Pelagićevo almost convinced me.
Staring out the window was enough because my thoughts were filled with you. How you had wandered into my life, I do not know, but wander in you had. A cigarette on a balcony, a frantic conversation, constant communication ever since. The most beautiful human I have ever seen. Someone described you as ‘astonishing’, and they were right. If anything, it was an understatement.
Pelagićevo was lazy outside the window, lazy in the most beautiful way. The village used to be called Gornji Žabar, which may or may not have something to do with frogs, but today’s moniker comes from a 19th-century theoretician and physician born here. Vasilije Pelagić was his name, bigging up utopian socialism was his game. In the process, he set about improving the health of the people through exercise, diet and hygiene and wrote the region’s first sports medicine book in the process.
For you, I want to improve my health through exercise, diet and hygiene.
Vasilije Pelagić was born in 1833. The world was a very different place in 1833, and the Ottoman Empire’s hold on Bosnia was waning. Husein Gradaščević and his men had rebelled, and revolution was in the air. Austrian rule wasn’t all that far away. Pelagić saw Ottoman rule as disastrous for the Bosnians and Serbs, and he wasn’t shy about saying such things. His writings got him in trouble, ‘exiled to Asia Minor’ sort of trouble. He escaped, naturally, and returned to the region to throw himself into agitation and dissidence. That went about as well as you’d imagine it did. There were protests, there were riots, there were uprisings. Pelagić organised societies, newspapers, education.
I will put you on my shoulders and carry you through the wolves.
Pelagićevo is probably best known for the nearby lake of the same name, although it also comes with the nickname Diplomatic Lake. Yugoslav politicians used to visit a lot, you see, bringing foreign visitors in the hope of seeing a massive fish. No, that isn’t a wisecrack. Lake Pelagićevo hosts many a fishing comp, and a 37.8kg carp was once caught there. You, sir, are a very big carp. A tremendous carp.
© Turizamrs.org
I told you that you have a tremendous face. I meant it as a compliment, but you looked up the meaning of the word tremendous. Turns out the definition is ‘inspires awe or dread’. Not my finest moment, but a couple of weeks later, we went on a date where I told you that you should be a tower crane driver. We kissed that night. We haven’t stopped kissing since.
The drive through Pelagićevo was a short one. It is a small village, after all. Mere minutes after we arrived, we were back on the big road to Tuzla. My life was changing, and it had nothing to do with Pelagićevo. I stared out the window, dreaming of a highway back to you. The potential for recreational tourism in Pelagićevo represents an interesting subject in its own right, as did Vasilije Pelagić and his Serbian agitation, but all I wanted to think about was you.
