Stalked in Sarajevo

travelatude — Tue, 1 May 2012 13:06:00 GMT

Last year while traveling through Croatia and Bosnia, I spent a little over a week in Sarajevo. One of my closest friends is from there and was back for a couple of months to visit friends. While there she had met a Turkish army officer stationed in Sarajevo, and for a while they were inseparable. He’s an engineer, both handsome and highly polished, with impeccable posture and manners.

My first night there we all went to dinner in Barščaršija, Sarajevo’s Old Town, where I was introduced to Sapik, the boyfriend officer’s friend.

This was Sapik’s first time out of Turkey. Originally from a small village in Eastern Turkey, and also a career soldier, he was a part of infantry so nowhere near as refined as the charming engineer. Nor was his English anywhere as good, so communication required some patience and effort.

Over the trajectory of his career, Sapik has had a few accidents, such as a grenade exploding nearby, causing him to go deaf in one ear. Another was a parachute jump gone bad. The latter was the reason he was given a temporary post in Sarajevo, with more administrative duties, to allow him to rest up and fully recover.

Over a beer the next evening Sapik mentioned he was taking salsa lessons. Hilarious. A Turkish foot soldier, on his first trip away from home, decides to sign up for dance classes. And he chooses salsa. In Sarajevo.

I explained how I had lived in Latin America, so have some real life salsa experience. He perked up and asked if I’d go to class with him. Not thinking much of it, I said sure.

From what I could tell, while introduced as a friend, Sapik seemed to serve as the officer’s chauffeur and personal assistant. The others seemed happy to have him around, as he was harmless enough—and a handy sidekick to drive them around town. So entertaining the sidekick for an hour or so while my friend had some quality time alone with her boyfriend seemed like the right thing to do. And what kind of an idiot would miss a salsa class in Sarajevo?

Sapik picked me up the next evening in a smart car, which he had specially rented for the occasion. Sweet.

Walking into the dance studio was like stepping into a Borat movie. An instructor angrily shouted out instructions in the first room, while her students did their best robot with intense concentration.

Our teacher had thick, dark, curly hair and a tight dance costume including a deep v-neck shirt. He belted out instructions in Bosnian to a rather motley group. In place of music there was a guy on two large bongo drums, thumping out a salsa beat. The class was rather loud between the drums and everyone counting to six as they practiced their steps. This went on for a full hour. Now I’m no expert as my salsa moves are pretty limited to the basics. But next to this crew shuffling around the flooring counting each step out loud, I looked like a pro. The instructor gave me approving nods, and Sapik grinned from ear to ear like the goofball he was turning out to be.

When we left it was pouring rain. Hopping into the smart car we headed towards Old Town. The windows steamed up immediately, making it difficult to see the road. The entire trip was spent wiping the windows and straining our eyes. As we whizzed through a roundabout in a smart car driven by a Turkish soldier, after having just attended my first Bosnian salsa class I thought, now THIS is a vacation!

We drove past a bar where Sapik pointed and said our friends were there. So why didn’t we stop, I asked? I thought we were meeting up with them after class. We will, we will, he said. Later. First we must have dinner. We had reservations at a well-known Bosnian restaurant in Old Town. So well known, as Sapik proudly said, that President Bill Clinton had once ate there. He brought the waiter over who quickly produced a photograph of the owner, the President and a large painting of the Bosnian countryside (an apparent gift to the President).

Sapik had planned our menu ahead of time. Literally. When I ordered a beer, he acted as though I had just asked for crack cocaine. We had been drinking nothing but beer since I hit Bosnia, but tonight nothing but red wine would do. Sapik excitedly told me about our first course, the Bosnian classic Bey soup, as the waiter looked on. On cue he stepped forward to show me a picture of what Sapik had pre-selected to be our main course. It was becoming clear just how much effort Sapik had put into the evening. I was getting concerned.

Cautiously smiling, I sipped my wine, buying time to think about how to get out of this situation. Telling Sapik point blank he stood no chance in hell just didn’t seem to be an option, considering I knew he’d be around the rest of my trip. So I went Plan B: try to convince him I was a terrible choice. So I told him all about my divorce. Many men would be turned off by this, let alone a nice Muslim boy from some little village in Eastern Turkey. Right? Wrong. To my horror it seemed to have the opposite effect. He started babbling about how brave I was (huh?), how honored he was that I would choose him to open up to. Yikes. I informed him that I did not actually chose him to open up to, rather, in the US we tell everyone about our divorces, really, trust me this is not an intimate moment. But he wasn’t listening. His eyes were shining in that crazy it-doesn’t-matter-what-you-say-you’re-my-angel kind of way. Creepy.

Two hours and four courses later I asked if we could finish dinner and go meet our friends. As we left the restaurant, he placed my arm in his, supposedly to help me walk as it was still raining. He asked if we could just take a quick walk around the plaza before leaving. This was the best night of his life and he didn’t want it to end. What does one say to that? So we walked around the plaza. Then he said please, please, just one more round the plaza, I can’t bear this to end. One more time around the plaza. When he tried for a third I put my foot down. Take me to our friends. Not catching on, he asked me for a kiss before we left. I told him no (although thinking HELL NO), we were just friends, and I was not interested in anything more. He continued smiling, as if nothing had happened.

Looking back on it, I’m pretty sure he didn’t hear a word I said. Not then, not ever. He had constructed his own love story for us, and nothing I said or did would change that. He saw what he wanted to see in me.

Once I was finally home that night, Sapik text to ask if he could take me to dinner the next evening. I told him no, I had plans with another friend. At that point I turned off my phone and went to sleep. The next morning I awoke to find these lovely messages waiting for me.

Sapik 2:32 a.m. I don’t want to lose u

Believe I like to meet with you 20 years ago

And if you were mine I try to kept ur smiling on ur face because I liked ur smiling

Sapik 2:44 a.m.: Hope to see you tonight

Pls tell me when

Sapik 5:25 a.m.: I want to tell u something

I am writing because I told u before at that time it is better

You had a great charm on me I don’t know why so please do not get it wrong

And don’t u want me to plan dinner and do we need smart car?

Me 9:17 a.m. Thank you for last night – you are very kind.

No dinner. I have other plans. I only want friendship.

I am sorry.

That day I went off to the surrounding mountains with a guide and came back to Sarajevo a bit late. I showered and got ready to go meet my friend for coffee. Just when I was waiting for my cab to pick me up, I received the following text.

Sapik 8:13 p.m. Hey what’s ur plan

U don’t call me

Everything is ok?

Now why would l call him? I had already told him no dinner, that I had other plans. In the meantime the cab came, and on my way to the café, Sapik started calling. When I didn’t answer, he just kept calling. Again. And again. And again. This carried on for the next 20 minutes. He finally gave up on calling and turned back to texting:

Sapik 8:26 p.m. Ok u also promised me too

Anyway thanks I hope I didn’t hurt u

Because u didn’t reply my callings

And WHY

Sapik 8:40 p.m. Hey what’s happening

I hope I will meet with you again

Sapik 8:41 p.m. Please Mary

This is not fair

And not my fault also not yours

I can’t understand

Sapik 8:42 p.m. What’s wrong

U tell me we r friends and I respect and said ok

I want to see my friend once more

because I know that she will go on Friday morning

Sapik 8:43 p.m. Please if I did mistake I am sorry

Believe me

Please

At this point he stopped. I started to think I was in the clear when my friend called. She asked what I had done to Sapik - he was crying and saying that I refused to speak with him. She said she couldn’t take it anymore, and they were bringing Sapik over to me to deal with.

When he saw me he became so emotional I thought he might cry again. His voice cracked a bit as he asked why was I doing this to him? Why wouldn’t I speak to him? Why would I not have dinner with him like I promised? Overwhelmed and exhausted, I lost my patience and decided the time had come to be firm. I looked him in the eye and reminded him that I never promised to have dinner with him, while I had already told him several times

As he looked far off in the distance with the glazed over expression, I could tell he wasn’t listening to a word I said. This crazy Turk had made up his mind that we were in the midst of an amazing romance. And here I was breaking his heart for no good reason at all. The color drained from his face, he looked down at the ground, then back up at me again and said, “But why, why are you doing this to me? How could you hurt me so, my dear Mary?”

My friend had clearly decided this was no longer her problem and she wasn’t going to let it ruin the evening, so we headed to the another bar. Once settled at a table she cuddled up to her boyfriend while I was stuck next to Sapik, who was alternately pouting and chugging beer. Deciding this had to end, I grabbed Sapik and headed to another table, ordered another beer and patiently began to explain there had been some sort of miscommunication, that I had no feelings for him. Sapik’s response? I was scared, afraid to admit my true feelings for fear he would smash them like my ex-husband did. I countered that no, my refusal of his advances was only because I did not have those kinds of feelings for him. Some version of this back and forth went on for two extremely long hours.

Having had enough I asked my friend if we could go home. On the walk to the car he took my arm again and whispered in my ear, “Such a beautiful night. Surely just one kiss would not hurt?” Sigh. I had to explain yet again that this would never, ever happen. But Sapik could care less. According to him I was just confused, remember? And he had enough love for both of us. The next morning I was greeting by yet another long, and somewhat disturbing, string of texts.

Sapik 12:10 a.m. Ohh Mary I don’t want to hurt you

And I see also u too

But u know sometimes lines are crossing in different types

I see u r escaping from me like last night J

I respect this I understood what u mean

Anyway but cant stop thinking of that why not a little kiss for this gorgeous night

U know I like to have dinner with u once more with Smart (car)

but I think we can’t be alone and in fact u don’t want this J Hmmmm

Best wishes and don’t know how can I tell u my thanks for this night

Kisses (in this way)

Ps: if u change ur mind please tell me before noon else Smart will not be with us

Sweet dreams

Sapik 12:15 a.m. And being a friend of u is very nice for me J

Sapik 12:17 a.m. I never believe in “next times”

Sapik 5:37 a.m. Hey good morning

Surely u r sleeping as an angel now

Come on wake up and begin exercise with me J (kidding of course)

Sapik 5:53 a.m. Hey I am jogging now

The weather seems good now but I checked from net today mostly cloudy rain

But I hope sunny early morning because of the clouds position

north side cloudy but at south good

Hope to have fun at hiking

Now I am going to near Smart

He was alone like me all night I will take picture of him

Because I takes a special place in my life I like to take picture of beautiful things

which/who takes a special place in my life

U had to realized that last night J

Hey I need help because I am walking and try to write this text

Here exists no hole but wet small lakes J

Ohh here is the Smart

Do u want say hi for him J

I will also send his pic

Have fun Kisses

Sapik 6:02 a.m. Hey I am passing little close to airport

I can see the lights of it

Ohh this is not jogging because my eyes always on iPhone and sounds click click J

Sapik 6:53 a.m.: hey Mary Good morning I will go to the Park Princeva for checking reservation

at 10 or 10:30 would u like to drink a coffee with me at that nice place

Me 9:53 a.m.: No I cant…I have other plans.

Please stop trying so much. It is overwhelming. It is too much.

Sapik 10:10 a.m.: Ok sorry L Just all I want to show nice places That’s all. Sorry.

Promise no more message J

There is no way in hell I wanted to see this jackass again. It was my last day in Sarajevo, and I determined to spent it Sapik-free, hanging out with my friend in Old Town.

That evening we met up with several other friends at a cool wine bar. Neither of the soldier boys were invited, out of respect for my waning nerves. But that didn’t stop Sapik from repeatedly calling and texting:

Sapik 10:15 p.m.: Hey I think u didn’t hear my calling.

Where are you I can join u in 30 min

Can u find taxi to airport early If not I am very happy picking up

my kind friend to airport and say bye best wishes

From ur Endless Friend

Sapik 11:38 p.m.: thanks a lot for that night

Please send a message when u reach ur home.

My flight left insanely early the next morning, so I had a taxi pick me up around 4:30 a.m. By 5 a.m. I was checked in, and headed through security. When I reached the gate, there were about 10 missed calls, and mutiple texts:

Sapik 5:01 a.m.: Goodbye my friend

Have a nice journey

I like to say bye while looking ur pretty smiling

Hope that u will be happy all ur life with ur pretty smile

And thanks a lot for that night

Please send a message when u reach ur home

Sapik 5:03 a.m.: U forgot ur music cd I made for u

Sapik 5:15 a.m.: Hey I want to remember u as a good memory

Just want to talk once more I promise u

Sapik 5:47 a.m.: I feel good believe me I want to be ur friend

Please answer

As a friend I will never write u such things but I want to write

Please Mary This musn’t be so much for a friend

Sapik 5:54 a.m: Come on Mary I want to say good bye to my friend

Do u say good bye to ur friends like this

I am fine after talking with u last night

Don’t say again overwhelming

Promise me please write me

Exasperated, I finally responded:

Me 5:55 a.m.: My friends never call or text or talk about their feelings so obsessively,

especially after I have told them no.

It has been overwhelming and now I'm angry.

I wish you the best, but this is goodbye.

Sapik 5:56 a.m.: May I write u when u are at home

Me 6:20 a.m.: No please do not write.

I cant take any more- you never stop, it's too much.

Please stop.

Sapik 6:23 a.m.: Do u want me delete ur contacts

Please don’t do this to me

I don’t want to hurt u I want to be only friend of u

Please

Mary I am sorry please

Be my friend please

Sapik 6:24 a.m. Promise I will go salsa course please my lovely friend

Sapik 6:29 a.m.: All I did mistake I liked ur smiling

If it is wrong on ur side

Sorry sorry sorry

Anyway have a good journey

When my plane landed in Rome, I sighed in relief. I was free. No more crazy Turk stalking me around Sarajevo. He had told me they were not allow to make calls outside of Bosnia, and I had switched SIM cards back to my US number.

My flight home wasn’t until the next day, so I made my way to the hotel to drop off my stuff. I had a full day of sightseeing planned, and was looking forward to walking around Travestere, as I had missed it my first time around in Rome.

Once out and about I turned my cell phone back on, thinking once it was late enough in the day I might call my mother to let her know I had made it to Italy safely and would be back in the States late the next day. My phone powered up, and several voicemails popped up. Sapik. Suddenly my phone started to ring, and did so almost constantly for the next few hours. I turned the phone on silent and moved on.

Finally it was late enough in the day to call my mom, so I picked up the phone and saw a ridiculous number of missed calls.

At this point I finally broke down into tears, frustrated and quite honestly a bit scared. I remembered Sapik making a joke that someday he would show up on my doorstep, ring the bell, and I would answer with my husband standing behind me. And would I remember my old friend Sapik? Suddenly I envisioned this reunion differently. The bell would ring, I would be all alone, and when I opened the door Sapik would storm in, heavily armed.

I called my friend crying and begged her to ask her boyfriend to intervene on my behalf. Please, please get Sapik to stop calling me and please, please find him another girl to obsess over.

Once back in Chicago I contemplated my time in Sarajevo with mixed feelings. On the one hand I knew this would make a great story. On the other I resented Sapik for tainting my Bosnian adventure. I would never be able to look back on my time in Sarajevo without feeling just a little uncomfortable. For every time I would smile thinking about the wide, open beauty of the mountains surrounding Sarajevo, there would also be a wince and a shudder at the thought of Sapik pawing at me, begging for just one kiss.

I told myself not to be such a drama queen and moved on. Then, a couple of week later, this little gem fell into my Inbox.

Mary,

I am aware of the fact that I wasn’t supposed to write this email, or at least you are not expecting any email from me. However, I felt like I must at least write this one last message to make things clear from both your and my point of views. So, never felt pissed of because of this message. The only thing I am expecting from you is to read this email until the end, then do whatever you want. And I want to thank you for your patience at the beginning… J Anyways….

When I sit behind and thought about the things I did when we saw each other in this strange and beautiful city, I understood that I behaved weird, especially for a European person. I should have been mature enough to see things and behaved accordingly. There are two main reasons for my extreme behaviors. The first reason was that I met with you in a very strange time of my life, a time that I was feeling alone and in need of care and love… Sure you didn’t have to satisfy my emotional needs, but I guess because of my mood I couldn’t think clear enough to realize that fact. I am really sorry for that. The second reason was my culture or the way I was raised. I think the main difference between you, actually all European people, and us is the way we look at some of the feelings like happiness, sadness, anger, joy, love, etc. As Mediterranean people we live our feelings in a very different way compared to your people. We live love or hatred at the strongest way. We laugh more than your people, or we cry way too much than your people, our loves are deeper than yours, or our ability to endure pain is more and also different than yours. I am not expecting you to understand this issue totally, but believe me we have really different perspectives when it comes to feelings. These states of mind caused me act like that.

Don’t get me wrong, I am aware of the fact that you are not the most beautiful or emotional woman on the face of the planet, or I couldn’t find a better woman than you. During the time that we spent together something, I still cannot name it, happened and I felt close to you, unfortunately I did the granddaddy of mistakes by letting my feelings overwhelm my logic. I am really sorry about that. I wish none of the things we experienced had happened. You know, sometimes emotions turns us into kids, and as you also well know, hope is our greatest strength and also our greatest weakness. Please forget about anything and everything that happened here in Sarajevo. You can even forget about me. You are a nice person and it would be my last intention to break your heart and also to be known as someone who disturbs or insists.

And the second part. I felt perversed, wacky. Because Cem told me that you called Alma to stop me. I don’t want to use that word (why) but I must. If you accepted my callings, you should tell me and you could see that how a big mistake you did. I was worried about you. Only, only wanted to say good bye and I am not the man who is in ur mind, rude or wacky. At least it wasn’t a plan but happened as a plan. If I had one more chance, I could do the same.

Since I experienced and learned about my mistakes with you, I musn’t let my feelings control me. I was feeling so good with your company. I must just let time shows us what to do, and I hope as we know each other more and more, we will be able to get along well. If it will work I will be happy, if not, I will keep on living. Especially with the help of my friends, I learned this reality, but unfortunately after you. I wish I was like now when we met. Anyways, there is nothing we could do about that. Past is past.

Take good care of yourself and I wish you health and happiness in the life. I wish you could meet with someone that you will really and deeply fall in love with and be happy forever.

Hvala Mary for being with me on Tuesday night. Hvala puno J

After all these I can easily say you Mary, you are dobro, super dobro J (also genius, left handed).

Vidimose…..

Sapik

Had he not called me over 75 times in a single week, sent 32 insane text messages and 2 extremely involved emails, I might have felt sorry for him.

Sapik was going through a very difficult time in his life, far away from all that was familiar to him: language, culture, family, friends. He was lonely, and sought comfort in the arms of a woman. Not unusual. What’s a shame is that he chose the tightly crossed arms of a woman not at all interested in him. And he behaved in what I can only imagine is the way of a love struck, small town Turkish teenager. These attentions were, in turn, repelled by the American woman in her late 30s. Ah, the classic romantic culture clash. So painful to experience, so much fun to watch from the outside.

And thus ends my story of being stalked in Sarajevo. Well, almost. I did receive one last email from him with two attachments.

Mary,

I know you do not want me to email. But I like to share funny drawings I make of us on my iPhone. First is you, fleeing me from Sarajevo. Second is me, sad, watching you flee.

Applicant for Super Cool Best Friend,

Sapik

In one picture I am portrayed as a witch flying on a broomstick. In the other he is a crying clown.

Trading in one life for another

Stalked in Sarajevo

My Scholarship entry - A local encounter that changed my life