Text and Photographs by Igor Kalaba
“One of my favorite things about nature is its ability to make you smile. Nothing penetrates the soul like the song of birds, the sight of flowers, or the scent of ripening tomatoes. A butterfly, no matter how old you are, never seems ordinary” – Kodie Moon
On Nature, Beauty, Disappointment, and Admiration
Most ecologists and activists I know have gone through similar phases, shaping them as researchers, activists, and ultimately mature individuals with a refined awareness of the beauty around us. Most grew up on cartoons, documentaries, and books that explore the wonders and mysteries of our planet, from dinosaurs to documentaries about African savannas and the Amazon rainforests. All of this has deeply ingrained messages about the beauty of our planet, but also about the crisis it is going through due to a lack of awareness of the fragility of the ecosystems that sustain us, as well as the insatiable appetites of exploitative companies and the lifestyle of a significant part of the planet’s population. During their growth, some were members of hiking, scouting, or non-governmental organizations related to nature, while many independently participated in the protection of life and the environment, from rescuing fallen chicks to bringing abandoned animals home or dealing with household members who don’t turn off the tap and switch off the lights when leaving a room, often bringing great annoyance to the said household.
After some time, partly due to increased sensitivity that comes through empathy built by getting to know the world and the connections within it, many of them go through a phase, some moderate and some extreme, of disappointment in society, if we call things by their true names – misanthropy. It might sound naive, considering that we have collectively become slowly numb to live feeds of executions and videos of disasters where dozens, hundreds of people lose their lives and property. However, some among us will shed a tear for a bird, a bee, or some less popular forms of life that don’t cuddle well, aren’t fluffy and cute, and therefore aren’t necessarily present in viral posts of large environmental organizations.
Fortunately, most of us move past that phase with a new understanding and admiration for nature, as well as for humans within it. Here, a parallel can be drawn with Jung’s psychological development of a person, where the integration of the so-called “shadow” occurs, everything that, conditionally speaking, is wrong with us but is also a natural part of us and should not be ashamed but accepted. After that, together with everyone around us, we work on it. This brings the realization that we are also part of nature, and our actions are not exclusively negative but can be positive. There are various species and ecosystems where our presence is beneficial. One of the best examples of this is the karst fields, incredibly complex and spectacular geological and ecosystem entities formed by a series of processes, including human activities, primarily agriculture and livestock farming.
Karst Fields – Symbiosis, Tradition, Love
When humans leave karst fields, they undergo succession, overgrowth, and over time a complete transformation of the ecosystem, both visually and in content. Unfortunately, this is happening in the karst fields of Bosnia and Herzegovina. For various well-known reasons, the voices of hosts, the songs of workers, and the calls of their livestock that keep shrubs and other woody plant species away from characteristic meadow ecosystems are less frequently heard in the fields. The uniqueness of fields is evident in the fact that the word “polje,” one of the few words in our language that, thanks to science, has passed into the English language, so it should not surprise you if you read “karst poljes of Bosnia and Herzegovina” somewhere.
However, people still persist. Some live in nearby cities and visit the fields for hobbies and enjoyment, others for business (e.g., tourism, but lojoy is also present there because we have not yet met anyone involved in tourism in the field who is not in love with it). Some still live there, not giving up on the fields, often saying that even though they know about other things, meaning they are not forced to stay there—they don’t want to leave the fields, despite obvious problems such as loneliness, the lack of conveniences provided by better infrastructure and larger populations…
When humans leave karst fields, they undergo succession, overgrowth, and over time a complete transformation of the ecosystem, both visually and in content. Unfortunately, this is happening in the karst fields of Bosnia and Herzegovina. For various well-known reasons, the voices of hosts, the songs of workers, and the calls of their livestock that keep shrubs and other woody plant species away from characteristic meadow ecosystems are less frequently heard in the fields. The uniqueness of fields is evident in the fact that the word “polje,” one of the few words in our language that, thanks to science, has passed into the English language, so it should not surprise you if you read “karst poljes of Bosnia and Herzegovina” somewhere.
However, people still persist. Some live in nearby cities and visit the fields for hobbies and enjoyment, others for business (e.g., tourism, but lojoy is also present there because we have not yet met anyone involved in tourism in the field who is not in love with it). Some still live there, not giving up on the fields, often saying that even though they know about other things, meaning they are not forced to stay there—they don’t want to leave the fields, despite obvious problems such as loneliness, the lack of conveniences provided by better infrastructure and larger populations…
Remzo from the Fields
During a recent visit to Livno, from the viewpoint at Kruzi, I saw an unusual formation of stones, resembling a spider, for the first time. In conversation with acquaintances, I learned about Remzo Velagić, who I was told is one of the few who constantly live in that part of Glamočko Polje. When I asked acquaintances for the exact location, they told me to follow the road through the village of Dragnjić but to make sure to lower the windows and wait for the sound of a guitar that would lead me to the final destination. So it was; on the way to Livno, where I was preparing a workshop on combating poaching with colleagues, we turned into Glamočko Polje, and after 20 minutes of driving, preparing to stop the car and ask the few people we met in the hamlet, I heard the introduction to Thunderstruck by ACDC. In mild disbelief, I turned into a small alley where we called out for Remzo.
We spent about two hours with Remzo, talking about everything and anything. Of course, we were interested in his quite hermitic way of life, his field, and the stone formations he painstakingly placed in the field. We covered a whole range of topics, as is usually the case. Extremely humble, grounded, interesting, and diverse, he talked to us about his life, his love for rock and roll, but also nature and his connection with it, especially with this field that his family has inhabited for generations. If I had to convey one thing about Remzo, it would be his intrinsic connection with the field, which is why he dedicated himself to land art, although we never called it that, but that’s exactly what it is. Some of the forms he created are a spider, a snake, and a kind of family or personal coat of arms that he designed and implemented in the field, with a meaning he explained to us but a significance that only he fully understands, arising from love for nature and deep contemplation of it and his place in it. Throughout his storytelling about the field and his family, essence and emotions constantly intertwined, making it impossible to think about the two separately. Which is the point—we are simply not separate entities but an integral part of fascinating and deeply interwoven ecosystems.
Caring for Nature is Caring for Ourselves
The efforts of the Center for Environment aimed at protecting the Livno and surrounding fields are motivated partly by love and concern for nature (as is the rest of our work) and partly by pragmatism. Enough has already been written about love in the preceding paragraphs, and pragmatism stems from the understanding of the importance of this and other ecosystems for people and their survival. In a narrower sense, this significance is reflected in so-called ecosystem services, an economic term for everything that ecosystems and nature provide us with daily, and without which life is impossible or significantly worse: air, food, water, climate regulation, pollution purification, etc. The importance is certainly much broader than that, so it is reflected in psychological importance (especially in today’s fast-paced daily life surrounded by concrete, buildings, and overwhelming communication technologies) and in cultural importance because, as much as we have shaped the field and other ecosystems, they have shaped us just as well, from language, accent, and character, through songs and stories, to clothing, economy, etc.
These reasons bring us to the fields, where we encounter a range of problems, from illegal waste dumps, poaching, energy projects that threaten to disrupt water regimes, to illegal construction, and the disappearance of people who value the field and live in a way that is healthy for both them and the field. Similarly, in the field, we found communities of those who understand their importance, not only on a cognitive but also on an emotional level, and that connection is stronger and more long-lasting. This connection is the root of true patriotism, which arises from love for the environment instead of paper maps, and which is an incomparably stronger motivator than short-term profit. I believe that precisely because of this, fields and the communities living in them will overcome all challenges, and with them, all of us will be much better for it.
