And we're done!
We took the stage tonight in Banja Luka in 35-plus degree weather; two hours and buckets of sweat (not of the flop variety) later, we were done. Since then I've downed more than my share of Ozujsko Pivos, hobnobbed with British officers, offered to do the camp commander's workload for the rest of the week, and generally made an ass of myself. This tour has been an absolute blast, and though there's plenty of loved ones at home who are sorely missed, it's also going to be hard to go back to being a nobody again...
Tuesday, July 22, 2003
Yak attack! Well, almost...
The British Merlin pilots who rescued us from a five-hour bus ride made our short trip even better by inviting us to sit, two at a time, on the lowered back ramp of the craft while in flight, giving us some specatular aerial views of the countryside. And almost as soon as I took my position there the saucy pilots decided to pull some fancy flying maneouvres. I was doing fine until I made my way back into my seat, or more accurately, was slammed into it while the helicopter started a sudden and rapid climb.
A wave of nausea came pouring over me, but unlike two other unlucky passengers I wasn't able to make a deposit into the barf bag handed to me. The queasiness stayed with me, though, and had to be slept off. I'm definitely not Air Force material...
The British Merlin pilots who rescued us from a five-hour bus ride made our short trip even better by inviting us to sit, two at a time, on the lowered back ramp of the craft while in flight, giving us some specatular aerial views of the countryside. And almost as soon as I took my position there the saucy pilots decided to pull some fancy flying maneouvres. I was doing fine until I made my way back into my seat, or more accurately, was slammed into it while the helicopter started a sudden and rapid climb.
A wave of nausea came pouring over me, but unlike two other unlucky passengers I wasn't able to make a deposit into the barf bag handed to me. The queasiness stayed with me, though, and had to be slept off. I'm definitely not Air Force material...
In the home stretch now... On this, the morning after a show for our first International audience in Sarajevo, we're calling in a favour and getting a ride to the camp at Banja Luca on board a British Merlin Helicopter. Copy and paste this link for info and pictures:
http://www.naval-technology.com/projects/merlin/
Our show there is tonight; first thing tomorrow we leave for a one-night hotel stop in Zagreb, Crotia, then fly home.
Today's war story: During the siege of Sarajevo, the Serbs offered well-heeled tourists a chance to "hunt" human prey. About five grand would get you a rifle and a spot overlooking sniper's alley, where you could spend the afternoon taking shots at whatever struck your sick fancy...
http://www.naval-technology.com/projects/merlin/
Our show there is tonight; first thing tomorrow we leave for a one-night hotel stop in Zagreb, Crotia, then fly home.
Today's war story: During the siege of Sarajevo, the Serbs offered well-heeled tourists a chance to "hunt" human prey. About five grand would get you a rifle and a spot overlooking sniper's alley, where you could spend the afternoon taking shots at whatever struck your sick fancy...
Monday, July 21, 2003
One thing I didn't know about the Balkan conflict was that the city of Sarajevo was under siege for more than thirteen hundred days. Even after NATO took control of the airport, there was still no way to get supplies into the city, or people out of it -- that is, until a tunnel was built underneath . Today, after a morning tour of the city, I got to walk through about twenty metres of Sarajevo history. Photographic proof will be provided once I get back home and my website proper goes back up!
Today's war story is about the Romeo and Juliet bridge, named after two lovers, one Serbian and one Muslim. To read their story, copy and paste this address into your web browser:
http://www.coweta.k12.ga.us/lessons/43533.htm
Today's war story is about the Romeo and Juliet bridge, named after two lovers, one Serbian and one Muslim. To read their story, copy and paste this address into your web browser:
http://www.coweta.k12.ga.us/lessons/43533.htm
Sunday, July 20, 2003
I've just checked into my room at Camp Butmir, in Sarajevo... If you could call it that. Once again, we're staying in what the army calls "transient quarters", and because Butmir is a multi-national base the Canadian army had no choice but to throw us, four deep per room, into the boiling hot second floor of a portable.
One of the big selling points of this SFOR base is the wide variety of International PXes, or Canteens. Based on intelligence gathered from troops at other bases I made a beeline for the American one, only to find last year's electronics at this year's prices. I tried to drown my sorrows in a milkshake at the Baskin Robbins; even that took half an hour, as some poor Serbian woman had to make do with a huge lineup and a blender that was clearly on its last legs.
The good news is that tomorrow night we're playing outdoors to an international crowd, possibly more than a thousand strong. Expect lots of America-bashing :-P
One of the big selling points of this SFOR base is the wide variety of International PXes, or Canteens. Based on intelligence gathered from troops at other bases I made a beeline for the American one, only to find last year's electronics at this year's prices. I tried to drown my sorrows in a milkshake at the Baskin Robbins; even that took half an hour, as some poor Serbian woman had to make do with a huge lineup and a blender that was clearly on its last legs.
The good news is that tomorrow night we're playing outdoors to an international crowd, possibly more than a thousand strong. Expect lots of America-bashing :-P
Saturday, July 19, 2003
Well, it was a bit of work getting the troops at Castle Greyskull to warm up to us last night, but warm up they did. With the kind of shit going on over here, it's amazing that anyone's laughing at all.
Case in point: Back at Camp Black Bear, our first stop on the tour, we saw a family of locals chatting with the guards at the front gate on our way back from the pirated CD shop across the road -- by the way, pirated CDs are the only evidence I see of any kind of economy over here. Anyway, I find out some ten days later that what was going down was this guy brought his kids over to the gate to tell the guards there that if they didn't give him money, he'd take them back home and kill them.
Case in point: Back at Camp Black Bear, our first stop on the tour, we saw a family of locals chatting with the guards at the front gate on our way back from the pirated CD shop across the road -- by the way, pirated CDs are the only evidence I see of any kind of economy over here. Anyway, I find out some ten days later that what was going down was this guy brought his kids over to the gate to tell the guards there that if they didn't give him money, he'd take them back home and kill them.
Just came back from a visit to the caves that during WWII were the stronghold for Yugoslavian Partisan leader Josip Broz Tito. In fact, the entire town of Drvar is the site of a failed Nazi operation to assassinate him. You can read more about it by copying this link and pasting it into your web browser's address field:
http://www.eliteforces.freewire.co.uk/Waffen%20SS%20Text+Images/FAL_500.htm
You'll have to scroll down the page a bit, or search it for "Tito". I'd relay the story myself, but figured it would be better with at least a few pictures!
http://www.eliteforces.freewire.co.uk/Waffen%20SS%20Text+Images/FAL_500.htm
You'll have to scroll down the page a bit, or search it for "Tito". I'd relay the story myself, but figured it would be better with at least a few pictures!
Friday, July 18, 2003
Honest to god, they call this place Castle Greyskull!
What once was a flour mill has been converted into a small but imposing military base, nestled into the Bosnian hillside. And though the base is small, the living arrangements are just what we all needed -- not the M*A*S*H*-style close quarters tents like we had at Zgon, but nice long ones, with private, curtained off rooms and a powerful fan in each. Another great thing about a smaller base? With less bodies to cook for, the food is that much better!
I plan on taking it easy tonight, and rest up for the fifth show of our tour tomorrow. While I'm doing that, here's a story one of my new-found military friends told me, about the only time he's ever been under the threat of fire over here. It was a few years back on another tour, when he was the commander of a LAV (Light Armoured Vehicle). While passing through a town it was brought to his attention that one of the locals there was pointing a machine gun directly at him. The vehicle came to an immediate stop, and the big cannon on top whirled around to targeted the threat. The commander slowly and deliberately got out of the vehicle, walked up to the local and took the machine gun from him, no questions asked.
What once was a flour mill has been converted into a small but imposing military base, nestled into the Bosnian hillside. And though the base is small, the living arrangements are just what we all needed -- not the M*A*S*H*-style close quarters tents like we had at Zgon, but nice long ones, with private, curtained off rooms and a powerful fan in each. Another great thing about a smaller base? With less bodies to cook for, the food is that much better!
I plan on taking it easy tonight, and rest up for the fifth show of our tour tomorrow. While I'm doing that, here's a story one of my new-found military friends told me, about the only time he's ever been under the threat of fire over here. It was a few years back on another tour, when he was the commander of a LAV (Light Armoured Vehicle). While passing through a town it was brought to his attention that one of the locals there was pointing a machine gun directly at him. The vehicle came to an immediate stop, and the big cannon on top whirled around to targeted the threat. The commander slowly and deliberately got out of the vehicle, walked up to the local and took the machine gun from him, no questions asked.
Imagine being so hot that your clothes, even your jeans, are soaked through with sweat. You're having trouble seeing straight because perspiration is overflowing from your eyebrows and clouding your vision. And then, on top of all this, imagine having to don a rubber slicker and woolen hat and dance. That's what it's like to perform on tour with Second City.
Tha good news is that the battle group here at Zgon loved our show, and the cold stares we've been getting have been replaced by friendly smiles and cries of "Holy fuck, you guys are funny, eh?"
This morning one of troops has offered us a jeep ride to a local castle, a win-win deal as it gets both her and some of us off of the base for a spell. After that it's time to pack up and head for Drvar, our fourth stop of six...
Tha good news is that the battle group here at Zgon loved our show, and the cold stares we've been getting have been replaced by friendly smiles and cries of "Holy fuck, you guys are funny, eh?"
This morning one of troops has offered us a jeep ride to a local castle, a win-win deal as it gets both her and some of us off of the base for a spell. After that it's time to pack up and head for Drvar, our fourth stop of six...
Thursday, July 17, 2003
This morning we went into town to see some kids at a local school, and relieve ourselves of the many pounds of candy and souvenirs we're all carrying. Thing is, with it being July and all the schools are empty. So our unit of entertainers and armed escort wandered around town in search of children, looking like idiots.
We finally ambushed some in the courtyard of an apartment complex, where all the love and booty came pouring out. The experience did seem a little selfish, however, and left a bad taste in my mouth. I couldn't help but wonder: Would we have been so generous if we didn't have our cameras with us?
We finally ambushed some in the courtyard of an apartment complex, where all the love and booty came pouring out. The experience did seem a little selfish, however, and left a bad taste in my mouth. I couldn't help but wonder: Would we have been so generous if we didn't have our cameras with us?
Wednesday, July 16, 2003
Well, it had to happen sooner or later. I've gone from the wide open spaces of my private room in the transient quarters at Velika Kladusa to sharing a tent with five other guys on the floor of a boiling hot factory, now the base at Zgon, and my home for the next two nights.
Our show last night in Bihac was well received, though the audience was a little rowdy. As we travel further into the military's AOR (Area Of Responsibility), the troops get progressively younger, and like their comedy that much dirtier.
... And we've still got four shows to go!
Our show last night in Bihac was well received, though the audience was a little rowdy. As we travel further into the military's AOR (Area Of Responsibility), the troops get progressively younger, and like their comedy that much dirtier.
... And we've still got four shows to go!
Tuesday, July 15, 2003
This is so annoying...
It seems that I've got some money owed to CIRA, the Canadian Internet Registry Authority, for my andrewcurrie.ca domain. So instead of letting me know this in advance they decide to suspend my domain without telling me! That's why my permanent website is down.
This morning I'm recovering from what I call switchback fever. The road to Bihac from Camp Black Bear is a curvy one, at several points requiring a 180-degree turn, or switchback. I was advised to sit in the front of the bus to avoid getting car sick, which I did, but on the way back I developed a pounding headache that could only be treated with a couple of hours of laying down. Towards the end of the evening I was feeling better, but didn't want to risk getting another headache from the karaoke that was happening on the patio.
It seems that I've got some money owed to CIRA, the Canadian Internet Registry Authority, for my andrewcurrie.ca domain. So instead of letting me know this in advance they decide to suspend my domain without telling me! That's why my permanent website is down.
This morning I'm recovering from what I call switchback fever. The road to Bihac from Camp Black Bear is a curvy one, at several points requiring a 180-degree turn, or switchback. I was advised to sit in the front of the bus to avoid getting car sick, which I did, but on the way back I developed a pounding headache that could only be treated with a couple of hours of laying down. Towards the end of the evening I was feeling better, but didn't want to risk getting another headache from the karaoke that was happening on the patio.
Monday, July 14, 2003
Greetings from Bihac -- pronounced "Bee-hatch", though "bi-atch" sounds way cooler...
The base here, a former car dealership, is the site of our first outdoor show, and the third of our tour. Today is our set up and orientation day, so we were treated to a driving tour of the town and came face to face with our first roped-off mined area. Plenty of photos to come!
Now I'm sitting here in what at one time must have been a car salesman's office, and I can only imagine the sales pitches that must have taken place here:
"You won't find a better deal on a Yugo than this... What? No, It's not diesel; it runs on corn oil, comrade! Now just sign your name here, and we'll call you in ten years when your name comes up on the list..."
Speaking of locals, I got big laughs in the improv set last night portraying one. Back at Camp Black Bear there's a gay Bosnian bartender that everybody knows and loves, named Sasha. He wasn't there to see my spot-on impression, unfortunately, but Milo, his big, burly friend with the gold teeth, was. He told me he enjoyed the performance, but his steely eyes gave me the impression that if I disrespected him again, I'd be in trouble.
Locals are the biggest challenge for the SFOR Stabilization Force in Bihac; most of the their time is spent tracking down mobsters and making their lives miserable. Like I said, we were treated to a driving tour of the town, but we didn't stop at any cafes, and both our driver and chaperone were armed.
The base here, a former car dealership, is the site of our first outdoor show, and the third of our tour. Today is our set up and orientation day, so we were treated to a driving tour of the town and came face to face with our first roped-off mined area. Plenty of photos to come!
Now I'm sitting here in what at one time must have been a car salesman's office, and I can only imagine the sales pitches that must have taken place here:
"You won't find a better deal on a Yugo than this... What? No, It's not diesel; it runs on corn oil, comrade! Now just sign your name here, and we'll call you in ten years when your name comes up on the list..."
Speaking of locals, I got big laughs in the improv set last night portraying one. Back at Camp Black Bear there's a gay Bosnian bartender that everybody knows and loves, named Sasha. He wasn't there to see my spot-on impression, unfortunately, but Milo, his big, burly friend with the gold teeth, was. He told me he enjoyed the performance, but his steely eyes gave me the impression that if I disrespected him again, I'd be in trouble.
Locals are the biggest challenge for the SFOR Stabilization Force in Bihac; most of the their time is spent tracking down mobsters and making their lives miserable. Like I said, we were treated to a driving tour of the town, but we didn't stop at any cafes, and both our driver and chaperone were armed.
Sunday, July 13, 2003
So the army has this rule that everyone can only drink two beers a day. They even issue cards that get stamped for every beer that you have, on every day of every single month.
This means that most folks don't drink until the end of the day, which is obviously good when you spend your daylight hours walking around with guns or flying helicopters, but it also means that people like me, who would normally drink a beer maybe about once a week, are suddenly scrambling to get their daily allotment of suds.
Same with food... "Hurry up everyone! Breakfast is only on for another half hour, and if we miss it we'll have to wait another two before the next gargantuan meal is served..." As for sex, that no fraternization rule means that troops retreat to bunkers to get jiggy with it, and if you believe the bragging, someone is getttin' some on this base every single night!
This means that most folks don't drink until the end of the day, which is obviously good when you spend your daylight hours walking around with guns or flying helicopters, but it also means that people like me, who would normally drink a beer maybe about once a week, are suddenly scrambling to get their daily allotment of suds.
Same with food... "Hurry up everyone! Breakfast is only on for another half hour, and if we miss it we'll have to wait another two before the next gargantuan meal is served..." As for sex, that no fraternization rule means that troops retreat to bunkers to get jiggy with it, and if you believe the bragging, someone is getttin' some on this base every single night!
Gotta make this entry fast... In ten minutes I'm going on a tour of Bosnia... By helicopter!
After a slow start, last night's show turned into a big success, and as usual, we headed over to the patio afterwards for our mandatory two beers. I would never actually drink this much if there wasn't a limit on how much I could drink!
Yesterday we supported the local economy with a trip to the black market CD shop across the road. I chose some local music over pirated copies of Avril Lavigne. After the chopper ride this morning I have the option of visiting a local castle, but I may opt instead to sleep away some more of my hangover...
After a slow start, last night's show turned into a big success, and as usual, we headed over to the patio afterwards for our mandatory two beers. I would never actually drink this much if there wasn't a limit on how much I could drink!
Yesterday we supported the local economy with a trip to the black market CD shop across the road. I chose some local music over pirated copies of Avril Lavigne. After the chopper ride this morning I have the option of visiting a local castle, but I may opt instead to sleep away some more of my hangover...
Friday, July 11, 2003
My worst fears have come true; I'm stuck here at Camp Black Bear in Velika Kladusa, Bosnia, using an army PC. It's not so bad, certainly no worse than the two-hour layover we had at Greenville Airport, somewhere in the Anapolis Valley, before finally leaving the continent to get here.
I can't write too much; I'm expected at this moment at a meet & greet with the troops... All I can say is that I arrived safely (well, duh), and that landmines are a real concern here. We had to sit through a forty-five minute PowerPoint on the subject -- apparently a seven year-old girl blew herself to bits a couple of weeks ago.
But get this: My jet lag is so bad that I actually fell asleep during the montage of grisly victim photos!
More tomorrow...
I can't write too much; I'm expected at this moment at a meet & greet with the troops... All I can say is that I arrived safely (well, duh), and that landmines are a real concern here. We had to sit through a forty-five minute PowerPoint on the subject -- apparently a seven year-old girl blew herself to bits a couple of weeks ago.
But get this: My jet lag is so bad that I actually fell asleep during the montage of grisly victim photos!
More tomorrow...
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