A Death in the "Family"

The British Prime Minister John Major has stated that he was "deeply shocked" by the murder of Paul Goodall of Lancashire, who was killed near Zenica by armed men, who also seriously wounded two of his colleagues.

Paul Goodall worked for the British state humanitarian society "Overseas Development Agency." The three Britons were assaulted the day before yesterday on the main road leading into Zenica, as they were returning to their hotel after dinner. The unidentified attackers, without any prior warning, fired two shots at Goodall, who was driving their land rover. He was fatally wounded in the head and died inside the vehicle.

His two colleagues, David Court and Simon King, jumped out of the car and ran towards a nearby river. They tried to swim to safety, but the attackers continued firing at them. The former British marine, 45 year-old David Court of Plymouth, was wounded in the back and 27 year-old Simon King, in the arm and leg. Both of them were taken by UN members to the British base in Vitez.

Paul Goodall was the father of four girls between the ages of two and ten. He had spent many years in the British army and had participated in the Gulf War. After leaving the army, he got a job as a voluntary worker in the "ODA" and came to Bosnia, where he delivered humanitarian aid to the Muslim population.

It seems that the main motive for this crime was to steal the vehicle. The case is being jointly investigated by local authorities and the UN military police. Since the incident took place in the Zenica area, which is under Muslim control, it is suspected that the crime was committed by members of the Muslim Army. Many mercenaries from various Islamic countries are currently in Zenica.

In the past two months in Bosnia, 11 humanitarian workers have been killed, either from snipers or shells, but this is the first time that foreign humanitarian workers were attacked directly. The British government immediately decided to suspend all state humanitarian aid and to investigate the "implications of this crime on the entire British role in Bosnia." Just at the moment when the government was inclined to allow British military forces to remain in Bosnia, the murder of the humanitarian worker set in motion new requests that British soldiers be withdrawn from Bosnia.

In a decidedly delicate situation, when the entire international role in Bosnia is being questioned, great attention is being given in Britain to the reports by UN monitors, who claim that in the last 10 days more and more regular "Yugoslav Army" forces are arriving in Bosnia and not just those who have, until now, been coming "in disguise."

The event is very sad, and I know some of my ODA co-workers were upset. I think some knew these fellows, but nonetheless, the feeling amongst everyone of us is a question about whether or not this will start a new precedent.

All things considered, casualties amongst aid workers is fairly low. No one in telecoms has had any real close calls that I know of, and I've asked.

Anyway, enough of the heavy stuff. I had a very nice day today, and I'm beginning to feel more normal. The weather was cool and sunny, and I discovered a part of town that makes me think Zagreb has some charm after all. My friend Jude Perera, whom I met in Geneva, has now arrived and has proceeded to establish himself with some vigor. He's been here before with UNICEF, but now he's with UNHCR in the purchasing department.

He and I had talked about sharing a flat here when he arrived. Through friends of friends he has found temporary accomodation with a 74-year-old British woman, who has been here since 1948. She worked with refugees in the post-WW II era, and apparently she married and has made a good life for herself here.

Jude and I agreed to meet for lunch today, so about noon I wandered across the railroad tracks into the older part of town. I must admit that until yesterday, I had not seen a proper city map, and so I was unaware of what lay on the north side of town. It's absolutely fabulous, with lovely old buildings of obvious Austro-Hungarian influence. (Croatia was, for a long time, part of the Hapsburg Empire.) Many of the buildings are very ornate, with the Croatian National Theater a very impressive, pastel yellow affair with intricate carvings around the walls and cornices, and in the middle a magnificent dome. Some gardens surround it with park benches placed at regular intervals, and on a nice sunny day, it's a great place to people watch.

I found some proper shops with better looking and more varied produce than I have seen near the hotel. There are bookstores, shoe shops, furriers (fur is very big here), office suppliers, furniture stores, and countless clothing shops. A few small parks spaced here and there add to the charm, and the whole atmosphere seemed much more relaxed than just a few blocks away near my hotel.

I easily found Jude's residence, since the city is so logically laid out, and he invited me in while he put some things away in his room. His landlady was not there, unfortunately. The place obviously contains a lifetime of accumulation, and many pieces of the furniture are very nice antiques from the 19th century. The high ceilings and great windows overlooking the street add an airiness not found in newer buidlings. The living and dining rooms were huge, even by American apartment standards, but I did not get to see the rest of the flat, save for a charming, sunny entraceway.

We soon made our way a few blocks northwesterly where we found the main square of Zagreb, Trg Jelacic, which is a vast area of several acres surrounded by some very affluent-looking shops that could easily be found on Park Avenue in New York or Oxford Street in London. The square is a central tram point, too, and you have to be very careful not to get run over.

In the middle of the square towards the north end, there are some long steps going up to the market place, where vendors in red and white carnival tents peddle everything from flowers to clothing to fresh fruits and vegetables.

The steps lead onwards to St. Stephen's Cathedral, which is a landmark of Zagreb. It is somewhat reminiscent of Yorkminster in England, although not quite as large. Like so many buildings in Zagreb, it is under rennovation, but the surrounding scaffolding could not completely hide the building's beauty. The current St. Stephen's dates from 1899, since the original medieval cathedral was destroyed by an earthquake in 1880. Nonetheless, much of the original character has been retained. There are surviving elements from medieval and Baroque periods. Very interesting.

In a city of over a million people, one would expect something more than a single Protestant church. But lo and behold, that's all there is here. A single Protestant church just a few blocks away from St. Stephen's.

Zagreb actually grew from two towns, Kaptol and Gradec, which abutt each other. (C's without any marks overhead, by the way, are pronounced "ts," so this is "Grah-dets.") Gradec (I think) was the working quarter of sorts, and it lies just west and north of Kaptol above the Trg Jelacic. St. Mark's Church forms the religious keystone of Gradec. The buildings are smaller, and many are undergoing refurbishment as bistros and shops.

There are some apartment buildings throughout this area, and it may pay to look for a place here, only about 15 minutes walk to work. The place has so much character!

Jude and I spent some time looking for a place to have lunch. This is a country of smokers and coffee drinkers, and the bistros at lunch seem to serve only coffee. Back at the marketplace we had seen a small grill, so we finally settled on that place for lunch. By 1330 we were both getting pretty hungry.

Several steps led down into the grill, and around the outside walls was a narrow counter and about half a dozen bar chairs, where people could eat. Practically in the middle of the 10'x15' room, a white butcher's counter displayed the pre-cooked goods offered through a large glass window. There were sausages and patties of several kinds, and then there were some things on skewers. I'll never remember what they were called, but I did ask just to ask, and Jude and I agreed on two "skewered things" for lunch. They were served with raw onions and an Arabic-type bread very common here. The bread had been heated in a microwave and so was rather chewy, but everything was very good quality. Washed down with a Fanta soda, the lunch proved most satisfying. Not bad for 34,000 dinars apiece. (Around US$5.00.)

We were then in the mood for coffee, and we walked down the steps again to Trg Jelacic to a huge coffee bar overlooking the main square. It was very crowded, but we found some comfortable seats near the door, and after about 10 minutes a waitress finally arrived to take our orders for two cappucinos. They arrived in good time, and during the most excellent leisure, Jude and I swapped various stories and opinions. Another round, and more conversation. Finally, with 12,000 dinars spent each on excellent "kaffe" and discussion, we decided to adjourn for the afternoon.

I felt really, really good. More normal than I had since I arrived. Thus bouyed, I returned to the hotel via the small botanical gardens (which, though brown now, surely will be beautiful in the coming spring). I asked for a television for my room, and instead received a new room with a larger bed AND a television, and all without any of the typical nonsense that accompanies requests for service here. I then attempted to pay my bill using Diners Club (which is far more popular here than American Express, and Visa is not accepted), I was told that my "spyeshal price for UN is kesh only".

I suppose two out of three isn't bad, and as soon as I get my per diem payments from UNHCR next week, I'll take care of the bill to date. [One expression I would like to translate into Croatian is "bite me."]

I returned to my room to finish working on the report on my trip to Knin, and in the evening I walked over to work to report the results of my day to Patricia, an American operator on loan from the US Navy. Patricia is very unhappy here, having been forcibly volunteered for duty here from Bermuda. As an African American, I think she has more trouble here than most, but she seems to be extraordinarily negative about the whole deal. We walked back to the hotel together, and after a mediocre dinner in the hotel restaurant, I came back to my room for a decent night's sleep in my new (big) bed.

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6 - A Death in the Family