The Ban Bus

By Midday I had made my connections in Istanbul and was on descent into Sarajevo. I had been here a lot under a variety of conditions and was keen to get back. Each trip since the war ended things seemed to be a little further away from the conflict. The city was systematically being put back together and we flew over a sea of red tiled roofs on our final approach. This was a bench mark for me, at the end of the war there was hardly a roof on a building in this part of the city. It had been part of the frontline and all but destroyed. Each year saw the odd roof return till there was a 50/50 mix but now I couldn’t spot any war damage.

The airport during the war was one of the hardest fought over pieces of real estate. The Serbs had the ends of the runway and the Bosnians had the sides. The UN had the runway itself. A vicious four way cross fire criss-crossed this strip of bitumen and every house in every direction was rubble. The Bosnians dug a tunnel under the runway and all supplies of food and bullets came down this hole and into the besieged city. Much of the siege of Sarajevo was a waiting game. The Serbs had the high ground and could have flattened the city with systematic artillery at any time. The Bosnians held on in a cycle of who blinks first. The one who blinked first was the UN and after a short bombing campaign against the Serbs the siege was broken. The Dayton Agreement was signed and the period of tentative peace was entered.

By early 1996 it was anyone’s guess if it would work. The war seemed at our fingertips and a spark could ignite another inferno. 1996 was tense as both sides had stepped back slightly. The eyeball to eyeball tension was easing and some consolidation was beginning.

The streets around Sarajevo were covered with broken glass and shrapnel and our frustrations were never far away with one flat tyre after the next. There wasn’t a pane of glass intact in the city and one of the first moves was UNHCR deposited large rolls of reinforced plastic around the city. People could come to these and cut off as much as they wanted and nail it up over windows allowing light to re enter their homes and keep the weather out. It was a tiny step but one that had a huge impact on the population. Within a few months, the country was wrapped in plastic. Some street sweeping took place and the glass and shrapnel was removed. No more blow outs. Refugees trickled back and took tentative steps to see their old homes and plan their futures.

This is when the tools of war took their toll on ordinary people. Day in, day out, people were blown up by landmines left over from the war. Some mines were old defensive positions while others were laid by retreating soldiers to terrorise the returning population. I lost track of how many times I was told, “I was walking to my front door and stepped on a landmine, I went to the well and walked on a landmine, I tried to repair my house and walked on a landmine, I tried to plant a crop and walked on a landmine.” Landmines had been the weapon of choice on all sides of the conflict and now all sides would reap this deadly harvest.

Cluster bombs too had been used but not to the extent of landmines. The lack of sophisticated airpower or multiple launch rocket systems reduced the impact of cluster bombs, but even so the dangers associated with them have lasted many years.

We were here with a few tasks to do. Visit the NPA sniffer dog school, hold a public action in the city and meet religious leaders at a Faith Leaders conference. The time would be short but I was looking forward to being back here immensely.

When NPA set up in Bosnia at the end of the war they identified that landmines would play a large role in the redevelopment. Demining was in its infancy internationally and it had a long way to go to become the professional industry it is today. NPA took a gamble and thought that sniffer dogs could be a good way to reduce a suspected area so deminers could focus on the ground and not waste time trying to find the perimeters of affected areas.

The first few dogs were brought to the country and then the money ran out. There was a massive budget short fall and this would not be fixed until the flowing year. A new boss was sent in with the brief of either fix it or close it, but you get no more money till next year. The dogs were the end of the chain as they were unproven in the field and if budget trimming was to happen then they would be the first to go.

We all believed in the potential of sniffer dogs but without some kind of budget to keep it going the idea would be dropped and the dogs eventually ‘disposed of’. A few of us were personally buying the dog food from Croatia and this couldn’t last. It was get dollars fast or else.

I sat in the shot up Unis Tower in Sarajevo with the organisation’s boss and we mulled over what to do. The only thing I could offer was a mass of contacts around the world. Let’s start calling and see what we can do. The tower next to us was a skeleton that was fully gutted by fire and war and in our tower the floors above us were all burnt out. We still had shards of broken glass in the windows and reinforced them with tape and cardboard. Nothing could keep the cold out but at least we could try and stop the wind. As I sat on the table calling one person after the next I had a piercing jet of freezing wind boring into my neck, so I started chewing paper and filled the bullet hole with a spit ball. My gooey paper Mache was working and another draft bit the dust.

My calls would consist of, “Hi Fred, John here in Sarajevo. I am with NPA at the moment in Bosnia and am looking for money to keep the dog project happening till next year. Do you have any money? No? Any ideas who might? Thanks, I’ll give them a try.” Call after call was made and all my big contacts came up empty. I was getting to smaller and smaller potential donors till finally I rang an old friend in a small NGO in Australia. Patricia had seen the dogs in action in Mozambique and needed no convincing. She was just doing new budgets for submission to the government and was sure she could get the money. I hung up the phone, smiled to the boss and said, “Every heard of a small Australian NGO called Austcare?” He said no. “Well they can get the money, the dog project can go on.”

I went out in the country with Gisle the dog trainer and together we kept the dogs fit. We had a hill in the forest that was clear of landmines and took the dogs there to run. Standing at the top of the hill a rubber ball was hurled down to the tree line and the dogs would sprint down the steep side and sprint back up again with the ball. They loved it, it was a great break for us and the dogs were never out of top physical condition. I was giving Bamse a rough house pat and thinking you have a job ahead of you my furry friend.

The following year they employed some local staff to work with the dogs and brought in a Norwegian to run the project. Terje was a master dog trainer and had a vision for the future but his immediate problem was making the dogs work and gain organisational confidence. He came into the office and announced he had hired some local guys to be the first handlers.

“They are good, some are better than others but they are good. I have one guy who is exceptional though, he is young and the son of dog breeders. He thinks like a dog.”

I imagined that to be a back handed complement then met dog boy, a young guy called Kenen. He was very bright and passionate about the project and training dogs. Between Terje and Kenen they moulded the first few into operational teams and got them in the field. They went from dogs living in packing cases at the back of a warehouse to some kennels at the NPA depot. The teams expanded and were integrated into the programs. When Kosovo happened in 1999, they loaded into cars and drove to western Kosovo and got to work clearing within days of the conflict ending.

Now the dog project has expanded from the first three dogs to a training school that is internationally second to none. They are breeding Belgian Sheppard’s and exporting them work ready worldwide. There are also spin off schools in Ethiopia and Cambodia and all are having great success. All of this had grown from a little faith in an idea and a bit of seed money from home.

This was my chance to get back and catch up with the guys and see how far the dog project had come. We drove to the outer suburbs of Sarajevo and into the school. The place was a hive of activity with every size of dog going through their training. Puppies played and slightly bigger ones ran obstacle courses while those of working age walked the gridded box sections with hidden bits of explosive for them to find.

I asked about the original dogs and what had happened to them. All had had full careers and retired to the care of their handlers till they died of old age. Not one dog had ever died from a mine and no one had been injured in an area cleared by the dogs. The original three dogs had passed away in the last few years but Goldie was still going and living with her handler. She was a present to Jody Williams for the Nobel Peace Prize in 1997 and she gave her to the NPA dog program. She did years of clearance in Bosnia and Croatia and now does a lot of lying about in front of open fires dreaming dog dreams.

Today they were hosting a visit from school children who were instantly captivated by puppy mayhem and the skills of the older dogs. Many were off with puppies on leads and crawling through tubes and tyre courses with them. Although they are demining dogs that search out explosives they do alot of obedience and obstacle courses. The dogs love this running at full tilt, climbing over high walls, balancing on narrow planks then dropping or stopping instantly on a command.

Terje had recently been to dog obedience World Championships. “I have to get one of our dogs to this competition, they will just clean it up.” I have no doubt and think back to the start of it all. We plan to meet for dinner and head off for our next public action. A bunch of students have volunteered to help get the word out and collect signatures on the People Treaty petition. We meet in the street outside a central church. This was the site of one of the first mortar hits at the start of the war and the streets were awash with blood and misery then. Now there is almost no sign of that history. I was curious about some burned out windows above. It was recent and one of our girls explained that it was an apartment that was dealing heroin. The police had never managed to catch the dealers in the act so some locals took more direct action and fire bombed the place.

If you are a young punk drug dealer who tries to set up in a city that has been through a war like here then you might stop and think about the older brothers and fathers of the kids you are selling to. They have been through hell and have no time for cheap scum making a fast buck out of human misery, particularly when the targets are their kids. They were lucky they were only burned out and not burned alive, as that could be a very easy solution to a problem like dealing here.

Most of our volunteers were girls and the 12 of them hit the streets with passion. I stood back and watched them dart from person to person talking about the treaty and collecting signatures. Within minutes they were back at the Ban Bus, “I need more signup sheets, these ones are full.” They were machines and worked the streets till the sun began to set. It looked like they had copied the Sarajevo phone book at the end of the action.

Towards the end of our action a motorcade pulled up by us and the German Defence Minister’s team of minders and flunkies poured out. He was here for a walk about and of course the world must stop for the great and good. The security tried to secure the area as best they could then off they went for their walk. One of the minders asked what we were doing and if we could move.

“Move? You have to be kidding, here is our police permission for this action, stamped and approved. Can I see your permission for your motorcade and disruption to our action? No? Well, I won’t report you this time. Maybe the Minister would like to sign The Peoples Treaty.”

The security guy didn’t know what to make of the quip but rang the protocol officer to ask. A very curt reply came back, “No way!”

The Germans are a funny crowd when it comes to this treaty. They have done a great deal to bring it down and now it’s not going down they are going to sign. Under such light, it shouldn’t have been too hard to sign up to the People Treaty then, but for him it obviously was.

The sun set over Sarajevo but now it was a Sarajevo full of youth and life, not the shot up hulk it used to be. Daniel came up with his gawking face on. “Did someone let the catwalk out? This place is full of six foot leggy babes!” No denying it, there are some beautiful people in Sarajevo. The war was a violent interruption, and there are still alot of shot-up or bombed out buildings around the city, but it’s racing towards its former glory and like a Phoenix from the ashes it is returning.

We met up again with the dog guys again at the old brewery which was now a restaurant and talked and laughed about life, the universe and all the specks in between. I was having a ball in Sarajevo and really didn’t want to leave but we had to be on the road by tomorrow evening for a long drive to Zagreb. The last thing to do here was the Faith Leaders meeting tomorrow afternoon.

The conference of Faith Leaders had representation from Catholic, Protestant, Orthodox, Hindu, Muslim and Zoroastrian. Those who came were not bit players but Bishops, Muftis and more. I am not a big one on religion but I respect anyone’s right to faith. Religions can be the glue that holds some communities together as well as a torch for evil when hijacked for the wrong purpose. I was fascinated by how these eminent leaders would view the world and whether they could find common ground and work together.

The meeting was opened by the Bosnian Prime Minister and also in attendance was the Norwegian Ambassador and representatives from Foreign Affairs. There were some opening remarks and speeches then I headed down to speak in their press conference. All who were here reiterated the need to work together and aim for a more peaceful future and not one of religious division. Branislav from Serbia who had lost his arms and legs while demining cluster bombs spoke and I spoke after him. We had an excellent press turn out and coverage in the media guaranteed.

Back up to the conference and there was a list of speakers that were about to begin. I was to be the first speaker after lunch. I was instantly impressed by the first few to take the podium, they had great substance in their words and all pushed the line of tolerance and working together. They weren’t formula speeches either but well thought out comments and criticisms on the past and misuse of religions. The issue of cluster bombs wove in and out of their statements and observations with varying ideas on what should be done.

I really needed to get the wow factor going in this talk and went away to think. I set up my computer with film and photos and thought, “Screw the niceties, they need to just hear it as it is and it must be about people and not statistics.” When I get a bit angry it helps me blast out a stronger presentation. I had that frame of mind going so launched into my talk. Footage of bombing runs was followed by a montage of photos as I talked about the global problem mixed with my personal experiences. It wound around what needed to be done and how they as leaders in their communities were essential to the ultimate success. I could see some were very uncomfortable with the photos that rolled behind me. “I can see you find the pictures hard to look at. I found them hard to take but it’s nowhere near as bad as it has been for those that are in them. These people have been described as collateral damage and statistics. They aren’t, they are people, as important as you and me and every loss of any one of them is a tragedy and an outrage.” The last challenge to them was to form opinions and not be apathetic.

Many came up after and said the presentation really knocked them over and there was a certain buzz in the air with a feeling of what can we do to get cluster bombs banned? Concrete plans we hatched as to what they could all do. The Greek Orthodox Bishop said, “The media always want to talk to me and I always say no.”

“So what an opportunity, hold a press conference, they will come then put all the facts clearly on the table,” says me.

He lights up, I will do it! The rest all hatch plots to get the word out through their communities and I feel we really have some new allies in these people. The Ban Bus sometimes fee