Symbols often speak out loud

Things changed very markedly as soon as we crossed to the other side of the unbelievably beautiful river. First, the river; it was not only refreshing- it was cold and green. We stood on the bridge overhanging the river in a hot summer-like weather, and found respite there, where fresh breeze comes from below. Furthermore, it being green- my favourite colour- makes it unrivalled by most other wonders the world can offer. I can stand there for hours like a stone, watching the river as it gushes, letting the comfort flow smoothly into my heart, through the eyes. This was Rijeka Neretva- the Green River.

Now that we have crossed, we started counting. Slowly but steadily, the number of women in hijab that passed us escalated. Even the mosques sound a bit more lively than the one on the other side- there were evidence of them being used, and are still in use; the provisional sandals were in a disarray, and its floors were wet. Plus, one cannot walk for more than 5 minutes without bumping into another mosque- that is just not possible on this side of the spiritually-divided Mostar. And if you're thinking of it, no, they don't have alcohol-selling bars attached to them. Thankfully.

However funny it may sound, all over the world Muslims and Islam are judged by its symbols; hijab, mosques, and occassionally beards. This fact is almost always true, and is a case unescapable to many, including myself. More often than not, our idea of 'the extent of which Islam is practiced' in a particular area is derived from juggling these two or three factors. A friend who has visited a city in Turkey recently concluded that it is not very Islamic, because he saw very few mosques (and mosque-goers), downplaying the presence of many women in hijab there. Whether his remark was accurate or not is an altogether different matter, what bears weight here is the fact that mosques and hijab tend to have the upper hand in this particular conscience of ours. Some points need pondering: Is this method always valid? Or is it only used as a preliminary and immature measure, often favoured by judgmental toursists? Is there a better way of gauging such a delicate matter? This could be a favourite research question for those involved in social sciences.

We continued walking, wide-eyed, capturing every scene of the now Islamic environment into our memories. There was a man, presumably an imam, in their typical 'clergical' dark robe and had a high hat, in red, walking a few metres from us. Unfortunately I wasn't brave enough at that time to start a conversation with a completely random Bosnian stranger. I could be just another tourist to them. Was I not?