Mind the Mines as you Mine your Mind

Up until now, while I had read about mines, I hadn’t really thought much of them. They were this idea that existed. From what I had read, the unexploded mines were largely in fields or dirt roads that were infrequently visited and that your best bet was to avoid those types of roads without a local guide and also to heed any types of signs or structures that indicated not to enter or go near a place. Easy enough. Or so I thought. 

I laced up my shoes for a run. It was already 83 degrees outside and if I didn’t get going soon, I would be running in the 90 degree September sun. So much for the end of summer I keep hearing about. 

I knew I wasn’t going right out of Villa Anita since I had already done that twice with the mountain bike and in the van on the way to the National Park the two previous days – both decidedly up, up, up. So left it was. I took off up a slight hill on the paved road hugging the coastline. Past red roofed houses, sobre (room) advertisements, small dinghies moored to lopsided docks and kids floating lazily in the water. After a half a mile, the paved road ended and my choice was to veer sharply left up an 8% grade hill (no thanks) or continue forward onto a dirt road lined with houses on either side. No brainer. I continued on, up the smaller hill along the dirt road. The houses gave way to more trees and I could see the town of Sobra disappearing into the background. “Beautiful” was all I could think . .oh yeah, and “holy hot man and oh my god is this hill ever going to end?” 

The road veered left and then right, the water sparkled a blue green below and I stopped to catch my breath and snap a photo. “Unbelievably breathtaking,” I thought shaking my head and walking for a second before continuing to run another mile. I loved running in new places. As always, an amazing way to discover something I might not otherwise have seen. Now the houses had disappeared and road seemed to veer left toward a cliff. I wondered what was around the bend. And then I saw it. A gaping hole in the ground surrounded on all sides by the types of barriers used to keep crowds in control during parades or marathons. 

I stopped. 

Breathing hard – from the fear or the uphill to be honest I am not sure – “was it? Could it be? Had the path been well worn? Well there had been houses. When had I seen the last house? Think Jen. Think. Would there have been mines on the islands too?”

 Now I was wishing I had done more research. Now I was hearing my dad in my head, “Really Jennifah? Croatia? What do you wanna give me – a heart attack?”

From what I had read, the unexploded mines were largely in fields or dirt roads that were infrequently visited and that your best bet was to avoid those types of roads without a local guide and also to heed any types of signs or structures that indicated not to enter or go near a place. Easy enough. Or so I thought. 

Was this isolated? Was this infrequently visited. I had been standing in that same spot staring at the hole for what seemed like an eternity. Well what was there to do except turn back. So I did. Back around the curve, down the hill and around the other side, each footfall precarious, my heart in my mouth. Would it be better to walk. I pictured myself being tossed into the air, landing with no limbs on the rocky dirt road. My dad’s voice ricocheted into every corner of my mind. My heard raced at a 180 beats per second, now I knew it was fear and not the running increasing my pulse. 

I ran, fear all around me. Wondering how people lived with this uncertainty. Feeling once again my privilege all around me. . .this had been my choice, but this was there life. 

And then just like that, boom, I was back on the paved road, running free of mines. Free of fear. Free as I had always been. I stopped in front of the only market in the town and went in to buy a juice. “Dobro jutro,” The familiar girl behind the counter greeted me. I smiled and returned her good morning greeting. 

“Hvala,” I said as she gave me my change. 

She smiled, “You’re welcome.” 

“Hey, I have a question,” I stood wondering if the question would offend, “Are there still mines on the island?” 

She shook her head, “Here no.” She smiled again. 

“I went running up the dirt road this morning and thought that maybe. .  .”

“Oh no many local people use the roads every day,” she assured. 

And just like that it all fell away. No mines had exploded me into a million smithereens. No one would be waiting for weeks for word from me without a peep. My dad would not tell me he told me so. At least not about that. 

Later that day installed in my new place in Sapulnara, my host, Paula told me, “There are 4 sandy beaches here. One down those steps,” she gestured in front of the house, “one about 20 meters, one 500 meters near the beach bar and one if you keep going down the dirt road about 1 kilometer to a place called Luna. It is very beautiful. You must see it.” I pictured the dirt road she was describing, similar to the one I had run on that morning. I knew when I went my mind would not be racing to exploding mines and isolated dirt trails though when I went later that day, it is how it appeared. 

Paula, 25 years old, studying economic tourism at the University in Dubrovnik, was happy to help her parents rent out the extra apartment next to their own with a view of the Adriatic sea and grape vines covering the patio. She told me that tourism is a way of life now in Croatia and that if you don’t work in it, there wasn’t much to do. I asked her how she felt about it and she responded, “Oh yes, I like it very much. After the war ended, there was a time of no tourism. But now it is even expensive. Much people will want to visit on their holiday.” Paula’s parents nodded behind her smiling and offering me an apple pastry and orange juice. “Sit. Relax. Enjoy.” Paula extended her arm to a small table over looking the sea. “We are here for you.” 

Later as I walked down the dirt road to the beach called Luna, I thought about Paula and my fear earlier that day. A car with two young men passed me slowly and I smiled at my own ignorance. I reached the end of the road. A sign read “Beach” in English with an arrow pointing down a steep set of steps. 










The boys who had passed me were still in the car. I descended down the steps to find a cove in the shape of a quarter moon, water greenish blue, the beach empty. I left my bag and waded into the warm water, small fish swam around my ankles.

I lay on my back and stared up at the blue sky. No clouds in sight. I saw one of the boys from the car come down first with a backpack. Then return up the stairs. A few minutes later he returned carrying an empty wheel chair. Then finally his friend. He wheeled his friend to a shady spot and they high fived and then laughed. Then he took off all his clothes and now completely naked, ran into the water to my right. The friend pulled out a beer and his phone, cracked the beer, smiled at the sky and began to read.