Janine di Giovanni: What I saw in the war

Translator: Joseph Geni Reviewer: Morton Bast

Translator: Alisa Xholi Reviewer: Helena Bedalli

This is how war starts.

Keshtu fillon lufta.

One day you're living your ordinary life,

Nje dite je duke jetuar jeten tende te zakonshme,

you're planning to go to a party,

je duke planifikuar te shkosh ne nje feste,

you're taking your children to school,

je duke shpene femijet ne shkolle,

you're making a dentist appointment.

je duke caktuar nje takim tek dentisti.

The next thing, the telephones go out,

Dhe papritur, telefoni nderpritet,

the TVs go out, there's armed men on the street,

Televizoret po ashtu, ka burra te armatosur neper rruge,

there's roadblocks.

ka postoblloqe.

Your life as you know it goes into suspended animation.

Jeta jote papritur kthehet ne nje levizje te pezulluar.

It stops.

Ajo ndalon.

I'm going to steal a story from a friend of mine,

Une do vjedh nje histori te nje mikesheje,

a Bosnian friend, about what happened to her,

nje mikeshe nga Bosnia, per ate cka i ndodhi asaj,

because I think it will illustrate for you exactly what it feels like.

sepse mendoj se do sjelle tek you ndjenjen e vertete.

She was walking to work one day in April, 1992,

Ajo ishte duke vajtur ne pune nje dite ne Prill te 1992,

in a miniskirt and high heels. She worked in a bank.

e veshur me minifund dhe me taka te larta. Ajo punonte ne nje banke.

She was a young mother. She was someone who liked to party.

Ishte nje nene e re. Asaj i pelqenin festat.

Great person.

Njeri shume i mire.

And suddenly she sees a tank

Dhe papritur shikon nje tank

ambling down the main road of Sarajevo

duke ecur ne rrugen kryesore te Sarajevos

knocking everything out of its path.

duke goditur gjithcka rruge.

She thinks she's dreaming, but she's not.

Ajo mendon se eshte duke enderruar, por nuk ishte.

And she runs as any of us would have done

Dhe vrapon ashtu sikurse do bente cdokush nga ne

and takes cover, and she hides behind a trash bin,

duke u mbrojtur pas nje koshi plehrash,

in her high heels and her miniskirt.

ne takat e saja te larta dhe me minifund.

And as she's hiding there, she's feeling ridiculous,

Dhe ndersa fshihej aty, po ndjehesh qesharake,

but she's seeing this tank go by with soldiers

por po shikonte tankun duke kaluar me ushtaret

and people all over the place and chaos

dhe njerez gjithandej ne nje kaos

and she thinks, "I feel like Alice in Wonderland

dhe ajo mendon, "Me duket vetja si Liza ne Boten e Cudirave

going down the rabbit hole,

duke hyre ne gropen e lepurit,

down, down, down into chaos,

thelle, thelle, thelle ne kaos,

and my life will never be the same again."

dhe jeta ime nuk do jete kurre e njejta."

A few weeks later, my friend was in a crowd of people

Pas disa javesh, mikesha ime ishte ne nje grumbull njerezish

pushing with her infant son in her arms

duke shtyre me djalin e saj foshnje ne krahe

to give him to a stranger on a bus,

per ta dhene ate ne nje te huaj ne autobuz,

which was one of the last buses leaving Sarajevo

i cili ishte nje nga te fundit qe po largohej nga Sarajevo

to take children out so they could be safe.

i cili nxirrte femijet jashte per te qene te sigurte.

And she remembers struggling with her mother to the front,

Dhe ajo kujton luften me te emen ne rrjeshtin e pare,

crowds and crowds of people, "Take my child! Take my child!"

turma e turma njerezish, "Merr femijen tim! Merr femijen tim!"

and passing her son to someone through a window.

dhe pasimin e djalit te saj tek dikush nga dritarja.

And she didn't see him for years.

Dhe ajo nuk e pa ate per shume vite.

The siege went on for three and a half years,

Rrethimi vazhdoi per tre vite e gjysem,

and it was a siege without water,

nje rrethim pa uje,

without power, without electricity, without heat, without food,

pa energji, pa elektricitet, pa ngrohtesi, pa ushqim,

in the middle of Europe, in the middle of the 20th century.

ne mes te Europes, ne mes te shekullit te 20-te.

I had the honor of being one of those reporters

Kisha nderin te isha nje ata reportere

that lived through that siege,

qe jetonin ndermjet atij rrethimi,

and I say I have the honor and the privilege of being there

dhe them qe kam nderin dhe privilegjin qe ndodhesha aty

because it's taught me everything,

sepse ajo me mesoi gjithcka,

not just about being a reporter, but about being a human being.

jo vetem si nje reportere, por si nje qenie njerezore.

I learned about compassion.

Mesova per dhembshurine.

I learned about ordinary people who could be heroes.

Mesova per njerezit e zakonshem, heronjte e mundshem.

I learned about sharing. I learned about camaraderie.

Mesova per ndarjen. Mesova per bashkejetesen.

Most of all, I learned about love.

Por mbi te gjitha mesova per dashurine.

Even in the midst of terrible destruction and death and chaos,

Edhe ne mes te shkaterrimit te tmerrshem, vdekjes dhe kaosit,

I learned how ordinary people could help their neighbors,

mesova se si njerez te zakonshem mund te ndihmonin miqte e tyre,

share food, raise their children,

te ndanin ushqim, te rrisnin femijet e tyre,

drag someone who's being sniped at from the middle of the road

te terhiqnin dike i cili ishte i qelluar nga mesi i rruges

even though you yourself were endangering your life,

edhe pse ti vete ishte duke rrezikur jeten tende,

helping people get into taxis who were injured

te ndihmonin njerez te plagosur per ti futur ne nje taxi

to try to take them to hospitals.

dhe ti dergonin neper spitale.

I learned so much about myself.

Mesova shume per veten time.

Martha Gellhorn, who's one of my heroes, once said,

Martha Gellhorn, e cila eshte nje nga heroinat e mia, dikur ka thene,

"You can only love one war. The rest is responsibility."

"Ti mund te duash vetem nje lufte. Te tjerat jane pergjegjesi."

I went on to cover many, many, many wars after that,

Kam vajtur te mbuloj shume e shume lufte pas kesaj,

so many that I lost count,

kaq shume sa e kam humbur numerimin,

but there was nothing like Sarajevo.

por asnjera nuk krahasohej me Sarajevon.

Last April, I went back to a very strange --

Prillin e kaluar, u ktheva atje ne nje --sic e quajta une

what I called a deranged high school reunion.

takim trondites gjimnazi.

What it was, was the 20th anniversary of the siege,

Ishte pervjetori i 20te i rrethimit,

the beginning of the siege of Sarajevo,

te fillim rrethimit te Sarajevos,

and I don't like the word "anniversary," because it sounds like a party,

dhe nuk me pelqen fjala "pervjetor", sepse duket si nje feste,

and this was not a party.

dhe kjo nuk ishte nje feste.

It was a very somber gathering of the reporters

Ishte nje mbledhje e zymte e reportereve

that worked there during the war, humanitarian aid workers,

qe punonin atje gjate luftes, punonjes te ndihmave humanitare,

and of course the brave and courageous people of Sarajevo themselves.

dhe sigurisht njerezit e guximshem dhe kurajoze te Sarajevos.

And the thing that struck me the most,

Dhe ajo cka me goditi me shume,

that broke my heart,

dhe me theu zemren,

was walking down the main street of Sarajevo,

ishte ecja ne rrugen kryesore te Sarajevos,

where my friend Aida saw the tank coming 20 years ago,

aty ku mikesha ime Aida pa tankun para 20 viteve,

and in that road were more than 12,000 red chairs,

dhe ne ate rruge kishte me shume se 12.000 karrige te kuqe,

empty,

bosh,

and every single one of them symbolized

dhe secila nga ato simbolizonte

a person who had died during the siege,

nje person qe kishte vdekur gjate rrethimit,

just in Sarajevo, not in all of Bosnia,

vetem ne Sarajevo, jo ne gjithe Bosnjen,

and it stretched from one end of the city

ajo shtrihej nga njeri fund i qytetit

to a large part of it,

ne nje pjese te madhe te saj,

and the saddest for me were the tiny little chairs

me e trishtueshme per mua ishin kariget e vogla

for the children.

per femijet.

I now cover Syria,

Une tani mbuloj Sirine,

and I started reporting it because I believed that

dhe nisa ta raportoj ate sepse ndjeva qe

it needs to be done.

duhej bere.

I believe a story there has to be told.

Besoj se duhet thene nje histori.

I see, again, a template of the war in Bosnia.

Po shoh, perseri nje shabllon te luftes ne Bosnje.

And when I first arrived in Damascus,

Kur arrita fillimisht ne Damascus,

I saw this strange moment where people

Pash kete momentin e cuditshem ku njerezit

didn't seem to believe that war was going to descend,

nuk donin te besonin se lufta do filloje,

and it was exactly the same in Bosnia

dhe ishte pikerisht e njejta situate ne Bosnje

and nearly every other country I've seen where war comes.

dhe pak a shume ne cdo shtet qe kam pare duke i ardhur lufta.

People don't want to believe it's coming,

Njerezit nuk duan te besojne se ajo po vjen,

so they don't leave, they don't leave before they can.

dhe per kete arsye ata nuk largohen, nuk ikin para se te munden.

They don't get their money out.

Nuk i nxjerrin parate jashte.

They stay because you want to stay in your home.

Ata qendrojne sepse ti do te qendrosh ne shtepi.

And then war and chaos descend.

Dhe pastaj lufta dhe kaosi zbresin.

Rwanda is a place that haunts me a lot.

Rwanda eshte nje vend i cili me ka lene shume gjurme.

In 1994, I briefly left Sarajevo to go report the genocide in Rwanda.

Ne 1994, per nje kohe te shkurter u largova nga Sarajevo per te vajtur dhe raportuar mbi genocidin te Rwanda.

Between April and August, 1994,

Ndermjet Prillit dhe Gushtit, 1994,

one million people were slaughtered.

nje milion njerez u theren.

Now if those 12,000 chairs freaked me out

Nese ato 12.000 karrige me frikesonin

with the sheer number,

me numer absolut,

I want you just for a second to think of a million people.

Dua thjesht per nje sekond te imagjinoni per nje milion njerez.

And to give you some example, I remember

Dhe per t'ju dhene nje shembull, me kujtohet

standing and looking down a road as far as I could see,

qe qendroja ne nje rruge dhe shikoja sa me larg te mundesha

at least a mile, and there were bodies piled twice my height

te pakten nje milje, ku aty kishte trupa te stivosur dy here mbi gjatesine time

of the dead.

te pajeteve.

And that was just a small percentage of the dead.

Dhe ajo ishte vetem nje perqindje e vogel te pajeteve.

And there were mothers holding their children

Aty kishte nena qe mbanin femijet e tyre

who had been caught in their last death throes.

te cilat ishin kapur ne grahmen e fundit te vdekjes.

So we learn a lot from war,

Pra mesuam shume nga lufta,

and I mention Rwanda

dhe une permenda Rwanden

because it is one place, like South Africa,

sepse eshte nje vend, si Afrika e Jugut,

where nearly 20 years on, there is healing.

kur per gati 20 vite e ne vazhdim, ka sherim.

Fifty-six percent of the parliamentarians are women,

Pesedhjete e gjashte perqind e parlamentareve jane gra,

which is fantastic,

e cila eshte fantastike,

and there's also within the national constitution now,

gjithashtu ne kushtetutun nacionale sot,

you're actually not allowed to say Hutu or Tutsi.

nuk te lejohet te thuash Hutu apo Tutsi.

You're not allowed to identify anyone by ethnicity,

Nuk te lejohet te identifikosh dike nga kombesia,

which is, of course, what started the slaughter in the first place.

e cila eshte, sigurisht, ajo cka e filloi masakren.

And an aid worker friend of mine told me the most beautiful story,

Nje punonjes i ndihmes, mik i imi, me tregoi historine me te bukur,

or I find it beautiful.

ose mua me duket e bukur.

There was a group of children, mixed Hutus and Tutsis,

Ishte nje grup femijesh, te perzier Hutus dhe Tutsis,

and a group of women who were adopting them,

dhe nje grup grash te cilat po i adoptonin ata.

and they lined up and one was just given to the next.

te rrjeshtuar jepeshin njeri pas tjetrit.

There was no kind of compensation for, you're a Tutsi,

Nuk kishte asnje lloj kompesimi se ishe nje Tutsi

you're a Hutu, you might have killed my mother,

apo nje Hutu, mund te kesh vrare mamane time,

you might have killed my father.

mund te kesh vrare vellane tim.

They were just brought together in this kind of reconciliation,

Ata ishin afruar ne kete lloj pajtimi,

and I find this remarkable.

dhe mua me duket e mrekullueshme.

So when people ask me how I continue to cover war,

Pra kur njerezit me pyesin se si vazhdoj te mbuloj luften,

and why I continue to do it,

dhe pse vazhdoj ta bej,

this is why.

kjo eshte arsyeja.

When I go back to Syria, next week in fact,

Kur kthehem ne Siri, javen tjeter ne fakt,

what I see is incredibly heroic people,

ajo cka shoh, eshte njerez jashtezakonisht te guximshem,

some of them fighting for democracy,

disa nga ata luftojne per demokraci,

for things we take for granted every single day.

per gjera qe ne i marrim te sigurta cdo dite.

And that's pretty much why I do it.

Dhe kjo eshte pak a shume arsyeja pse e bej.

In 2004, I had a little baby boy,

Ne 2004, kisha nje djale te vogel,

and I call him my miracle child,

dhe une e quaj ate femija mrekulli,

because after seeing so much death

sepse pasi kam pare kaq shume vdekje

and destruction and chaos and darkness in my life,

shkaterrime, kaos dhe erresire ne jeten time,

this ray of hope was born.

lindi kjo rreze shprese.

And I called him Luca, which means "The bringer of light,"

Dhe une e quajta ate Luca qe do te thote "Derguesi i drites"

because he does bring light to my life.

sepse ai sjell drite ne jeten time.

But I'm talking about him because when he was four months old,

Por po flas per ate sepse kur ai ishte kater muajsh,

my foreign editor forced me to go back to Baghdad

redaktori im i huaj me detyroi te kthehesha ne Baghdad

where I had been reporting all throughout the Saddam regime

aty ku kisha raportuar gjate gjithe regimit te Saddamit

and during the fall of Baghdad and afterwards,

dhe gjate renies se Baghdadit dhe me pas,

and I remember getting on the plane in tears,

me kujtohet qe hyra ne avion duke qare,

crying to be separated from my son,

qaja sepse po ndahesha nga im bir,

and while I was there,

dhe ndersa isha aty,

a quite famous Iraqi politician who was a friend of mine

nje politikan i famshem Irakian i cili ishte mik i imi

said to me, "What are you doing here?

me tha, "Cfare po ben ketu?

Why aren't you home with Luca?"

Pse nuk je ne shtepi me Luca?"

And I said, "Well, I have to see." It was 2004

Dhe une i thash, "E pra, mua me duhet ta shoh." Ishte 2004

which was the beginning of the incredibly bloody time in Iraq,

qe do te thote ishte fillimi i nje kohe teper te pergjakshme ne Irak,

"I have to see, I have to see what is happening here.

"Me duhet te shoh, me duhet te shoh cfare po ndodh ketu.

I have to report it."

me duhet te raportoj."

And he said, "Go home,

Dhe ai me tha. "Kthehu ne shtepi,

because if you miss his first tooth,

sepse po e humbe dhembin e tij te pare,

if you miss his first step, you'll never forgive yourself.

po i humbe hapat e tij te para, nuk do e falesh kurre veten.

But there will always be another war."

Por do kete perhere nje lufte tjeter."

And there, sadly, will always be wars.

Dhe atje, fatkeqeshisht, do kete perhere lufte.

And I am deluding myself if I think, as a journalist,

Dhe do mashtroja veten nese mendoja, si nje gazetare,

as a reporter, as a writer,

si nje reportere, si nje shkrimtare,

what I do can stop them. I can't.

qe ajo cka po bej mund ta ndaloje. Nuk mundem.

I'm not Kofi Annan. He can't stop a war.

Une nuk jam Kofi Annan. Ai nuk mund te ndaloje nje lufte.

He tried to negotiate Syria and couldn't do it.

Ai u perpoq te negocioje Sirine por nuk e arriti.

I'm not a U.N. conflict resolution person.

Une nuk jam nje person i K.B te zgjidhjen e konflikteve.

I'm not even a humanitarian aid doctor,

Une nuk jam as doktoreshe e ndihmes humanitare,

and I can't tell you the times of how helpless I've felt

dhe nuk mund ti pershkruaj se sa here jam ndjere e paafte

to have people dying in front of me, and I couldn't save them.

te shpetoj njerez qe kane qene duke vdekur para meje.

All I am is a witness.

Gjithcka jam, eshte nje deshmitare.

My role is to bring a voice to people who are voiceless.

Roli im eshte te sjell nje ze tek njerezit qe jane te pa ze.

A colleague of mine described it as to shine a light

Nje kolegu im e pershkroi ate si te ndezesh nje drite

in the darkest corners of the world.

ne cepat me te erret te botes.

And that's what I try to do.

Dhe kete perpiqem te bej.

I'm not always successful,

Nuk jam gjithmone e suksesshme,

and sometimes it's incredibly frustrating,

dhe shpesh here eshte shume frustruese,

because you feel like you're writing into a void,

sepse ndihesh sikur po shkruan ne nje boshllek,

or you feel like no one cares.

ose ndihesh sikur asnjerit nuk i intereson.

Who cares about Syria? Who cares about Bosnia?

Kujt i intereson per Sirine? Kujt i intereson per Bosnjen?

Who cares about the Congo,

Kush interesohet per Kongon,

the Ivory Coast, Liberia, Sierra Leone,

per Bregun e Fildishte, Liberine, Sierra Leonen,

all of these strings of places that

te gjithe keto vargje vendesh qe

I will remember for the rest of my life?

une do kujtoj per pjesen tjeter te jetes time?

But my métier is to bear witness

Por profesioni im eshte te mbart deshmite

and that is the crux, the heart of the matter,

dhe ky eshte thelbi, zemra e ceshtjes,

for us reporters who do this.

per ne reporteret qe bejme kete.

And all I can really do is hope,

Dhe ajo cka mund te bej eshte te shpresoj,

not to policymakers or politicians,

jo te politike beresit ose politikanet,

because as much as I'd like to have faith

sepse sado te dua te kem besim

that they read my words and do something,

qe ata te lexojne fjalet e mia dhe bejne dicka,

I don't delude myself.

une nuk e mashtroj veten.

But what I do hope is that if you remember anything I said

Por shpresa ime eshte se nese do mbani mend dicka nga ato qe thashe

or any of my stories tomorrow morning over breakfast,

ose kedo nga historite e mia neser gjate mengjesit,

if you can remember the story of Sarajevo,

nese do kujtoni historine e Sarajevos,

or the story of Rwanda,

ose historine e Ruandes,

then I've done my job.

atehere une e kam kryer punen time.

Thank you very much.

Faleminderit shume.

(Applause)

(Duartrokijte)