Quinn Van Valer-Campbell: The Drina River

Date: 
Saturday, February 2, 2013

The Death Beneath the Calm

The Drina River
The Drina River

Growing up in Santa Cruz, California, I have always been surrounded by water. From the churning Pacific Ocean to the San Lorenzo River, water has remained a constant. I derive a sense of serenity and calm from the crashing waves and the constant ebb and flow.

In the summer of 2011, I received a fellowship to work with survivors of the Bosnian genocide in Bosnia-Herzegovina. While my focus was trauma healing and reconciliation, I was able to travel throughout the country a bit. One of my most memorable experiences took place along side the Drina River, which serves as the border between Serbia and Bosnia-Herzegovina.

There aren’t many things one can do, places one can go, or people with whom one can talk where memories of the Bosnian War won’t seep in. It was such a devastating and horrific time in history and much of the country has yet to heal, let alone reconcile. I bring this up because, as I sat around a campfire in rural Bosnia with the sound of the Drina in my ears, the view of Serbia across the river, and friends by my side, I was surrounded by these memories. They weren’t my memories, but I held them as my own in a region for which I had developed such a deep love.

Looking to Serbia
Looking to Serbia

Earlier that day, friends and I had hiked down to the riverbank and took out a raft. We laughed and splashed around. I remember being able to reach my hand out and touch the rock wall on the side that was Serbia. It must have towered six stories above us. The juxtaposition of this rock wall against the lush, rolling hills made the view even more breathtaking. The emerald green of the water was masked by the trash and filth floating by and I couldn’t help but remember the disturbing history of this once pristine river.

Even in World Wars I and II, the Drina was a dumping site for the bodies of soldiers. The Bosnian War was no different as men and children were shot, execution style, off of a bridge and into the water. The bridge in the town of Višegrad was made infamous as the symbol of massacres committed by the Serbs against the Bosniaks and Croats. One cannot walk across the bridge and into the town without dozens of stares from locals who understand that you are simply a visitor at a gravesite.

Visegrad Bridge
Visegrad Bridge

As recently as 1999, the contents of trucks full of Kosovar Albanians were thrown into the river. In 2010 alone, 300 remains were exhumed from Lake Perućac, a reservoir in the middle of the Drina. The placid river provided cover for the bodies of victims of war crimes and genocide. Landmines were even strewn about its depths so as to prevent complete exhumation of the bodies within. 

The Drina doesn’t represent a river. It is a gravesite and one in which bodies have been unceremoniously dumped. To this day, there are thousands of people still missing in the wake of the war. This river does not evoke childhood memories, but dark, grisly nightmares of death.