Srebrenik // Angel of Death by Slayer

The best in the country // © John Bills

We stood outside the old mosque in Špionica, waiting for the imam to arrive to let us in. Edin was telling me about his experiences as a DJ. “I played at a wedding recently, and the couple were very different. Do you know what they had for the first dance? Angel of Death by Slayer."

I suppose that is a little weird, although the concept of the first dance isn’t exactly normal. If it didn’t already exist, I’m not sure if we would invent it. You can put that to the entire concept of marriage, although please don’t tell my imaginary wife that. Our wedding was beautiful.

But there we were, standing outside a mosque with pages of history in its back pocket, talking about the relative merit of romance and Slayer. Who are we to judge? The imam arrived, and we entered the mosque, shoes off, right foot first. The old mosque is the oldest religious building in Špionica, hence the name, but why would that be a surprise? Villages developed around faith, and the Špionica we know today was placed on the map by the Ottomans. Mehmed-beg Skenderpašić was the dude in charge at its peak in the middle of the 16th century.

The mosque isn’t that old though. The building materials suggest a more modern construction, maybe from the 19th century, as Bosnia’s Ottoman period was winding down. The portico stood out, but it was likely added later. There was no Tarih giving a hint as to a definite date of construction. All speculation. 

The Old Mosque in Špionica // © John Bills

But here we go, strap yourself in; isn’t all life speculation? Isn’t it all built on perception and assumption? Srebrenik is one of my favourite towns in Bosnia and Herzegovina, for many reasons. Yes, the impeccably stunning fortress has plenty to do with it, but that will get its own article in time. The joy in Srebrenik lies in its practicalities and its functionalities. It lies in the simplicity of everyday life. Functioning cafes. Restaurants serving excellent ćevapi. A down-to-earth mayor without pretension. A local tourist office focused on Srebrenik and all it has to give. 

I could quite easily live in Srebrenik. That might be a somewhat liberal use of ‘easily’, but you get the point. Bosnia and Herzegovina is a magnificent country of fascinating towns and sweeping nature, a country brimming with character, charm and colour, but it would be disingenuous of me to say that living here is the proverbial walk in the park. It isn’t. The big cities and towns have problems with traffic, air quality and noise. Nature here really is stunning, but it also comes with a pinch of garbage (not a pinch; a flood). Living in Bosnia and Herzegovina comes with disclaimers and caveats. The history is endlessly fascinating, but, you know, the elephant in the room.

Somehow, Srebrenik seems to avoid most of these issues. The town goes about its business at its own pace, focused on a to-do list instead of pies in the skies. Much of the history happened outside the centre, be it the fortress or the villages. A monument in the heart of Srebrenik pays homage to lives lost in the World War II fight against fascism. Not a lot is written about the town otherwise, with little mention coming out of the Ottoman years, the Austro-Hungarian decades, or the Yugoslav period. The ‘old town’ is a street of smaller buildings, hinting at a quiet past. The construction of the Brčko-Banovići railway was the catalyst for the development of modern Srebrenik, but it didn’t happen on the level of other towns in the area.

© John Bills

Maybe this was considered a negative at the time, but it is a positive today. The industrial blight of many northern towns isn’t so keen in Srebrenik, leading to clean air and a refreshing sense of a central town acting as a nerve centre for the villages around it. We visited another mosque in Ćojluk, one that touched on many of the same tones as the beauty in Špionica. A single-space mosque, rectangular in shape, lovingly placed on a gentle slope. The mosque functioned as most mosques did and do, the centre of a community that grew out of necessity more than anything else. Being built below a fortress will do that. The mosque was built during the 17th century but has been renovated since, and its modern interpretation exudes tranquillity. All great mosques do the same.

Ćojluk Mosque // © John Bills

From Ćojluk, we headed towards a lake. Well, not exactly, as the lake itself is sort of off-limits, but we headed towards a village called Uroža. We left the car and wandered into a covered non-path in need of a trim. The brambles eventually gave way to space, and the view was everything Edin had promised. Immediately below the rocks was a lake, perfectly formed, glistening in the early evening sun, as peaceful as anything in this part of the world. In the distance, Gradina stood protectively over its rock, keeping track of its domain below. Srebrenik went about its business to the left, while the road to the right promised adventure and ambition. The lake was the anchor, in a positive way, the beating heart of a nervous system in perfect harmony. It wasn’t hard to imagine a setting sun, a cold beer, and a reassuring sense that everything was okay. Everything is okay.

Lake Ingram // © John Bills

Of course, this picture is somewhat sullied by a typical furore around the lake, but I’m not here to get stuck in land ownership and planning. Ingram is the company that owns the quarry, and word has it that they aren’t particularly enthused about people enjoying the lake. The fact that we had to navigate through a non-path says a lot. Without Edin, there is no chance I would have found Lake Ingram.

But, and it is a big one, I was with Edin, and we found Lake Ingram. It ticked all of my boxes. A bit like Srebrenik as a whole. Not flashy, but functional. Impressive? Sure, thanks for noticing, we hope you are comfortable here. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask. The best bus station in Bosnia and Herzegovina. What was William Martin's point? Do not ask your children to strive for extraordinary lives? Make the ordinary come alive because the extraordinary will look after itself? We drove back to Orion, where any plans I had to work were vanquished in that magical combination of exhaustion and satisfaction.