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First Bosnian family recalls His long, droopy bell-bottom pants match his shaggy hair, and her miniskirt and sweater suggest her shy smile is only because the love of her life is standing next to her. Now, as they look at that photograph of their wedding day in the living room of their Eagle Street house, her shy smile returns.
"They look like hippies!" declares their niece Safa Ikeljic, breaking the spell between Resid and Subha Ikeljic, who have been married for 29 years. For the first Bosnian refugees to settle in Utica, it has been a long road from that sunny day in Bosnia. A war shattered their dreams of a quiet life. Resid was dragged away to a concentration camp, and Subha and their three children were forced to hide in a forest for safety. After reuniting in Croatia, the family fled to the United States, arriving in Utica in June 1993 and setting the stage for thousands more Bosnians to come. As they warily sized up their surroundings in a cockroach-infested apartment on South Street nearly 10 years ago, it was by no means clear their presence would lead to a success story for themselves and Utica. "When we got there, we thought that maybe there was a war going on in America, too," Resid said. Surrounded by family in their Utica home, Subha, 47, and Resid, 52, talk of their life in Bosnia and the one they have made in the Mohawk Valley. The Ikeljics’ marriage began happily in the small, middle-class Bosnian town of Kljuc, where friends and family gathered for the traditional seven-day party. Afterward, following Bosnian custom, the couple moved in with his parents. Subha smiled at the mention of the infamous American tension between mothers- and daughters-in-law, and said the nine years they lived in Resid’s parents’ house were a joyful time. "You should know that nine years is a lot longer than normal," said their daughter Merima, a 16-year-old with big eyes and an American teenager’s accent. Resid and Subha had moved into their own house in southern Bosnia and were raising three children when war broke out in 1991 between the country’s neighbors, Serbia and Croatia. The following year, violence erupted in Bosnia. *** The Ikeljic family members are Bosnian Muslims and were persecuted by the Serbian military and other Bosnian Serbs. Towns were looted, and men, including Resid and his brother, Rafit, were dragged to concentration camps. Women and children hid in the forest, scrounging for food. "They took me to a (concentration) camp, and I don’t even know why," Resid said. "They said we were guilty, everyone." When the Serbs came for Resid, a good friend — whom Resid had supervised when they worked as carpenters — was with them. "When he saw that it was me and my family, he told the others not to take me because I was a good man," Resid said. The next time the Serbs came for him, there were no friendly faces. "They send people you don’t know," Resid said. "They’re ashamed if they know you and have to face you." When sitting alone with his wife, Resid is reserved, protecting her from the memory. But when his brother Rafit, a stocky man with dark hair and eyes arrives, Resid becomes animated about their experiences in the camp. Over cups of steaming, thick coffee, Rafit and Resid talk with help from Rafit’s son, Rasim, who adds to the mostly English conversation and translates the Bosnian parts. Rasim, 12, knows his family’s story well. "They would put water out for the men just arriving at the camp, just so they could beat them up when they tried to drink it," Rasim said. At the camp, Resid and Rafit hauled wood and planted trees and corn. While the men toiled under beatings and little food, the women and children fled to escape Serbs who demanded gold and raped women. "We did a lot of running around and hiding," Merima said. "We were hiding with a group of three or four families, and we at least had a little food in reserve." Eventually, Subha took Merima and her sons, Jasmin, now 27, and Refik, now 24, to Zagreb, the capital of Croatia, where her aunt and uncle lived. In December 1992, the family saw the release of prisoners on television. The United Nations had arrived to stabilize the region, and helped move the Bosnian prisoners. The men from the Manjaca camp, where Resid and his brother were being held, were brought to Croatia. Subha, who isn’t comfortable speaking English, just closed her eyes and smiled at the memory of the day she saw her husband again. *** The Ikeljic family, along with Rafit, his wife and five children and their grandmother, registered for refugee status and moved to the United States June 16, 1993. The group, whose trip was sponsored by an anonymous donor, arrived around midnight at Hancock International Airport in Syracuse, where a representative from the Mohawk Valley Resource Center for Refugees was waiting for them. That night, they were delivered to a sparse apartment on South Street. "It was such a bad house!" Rasim said. "There were cockroaches." After living in a large, middle-class home in Bosnia, the family was given $10 for each person and had to sleep on dirty mattresses, Rasim said. But everyone was grateful just to be alive, he said. Resid, Subha and Rafit found factory jobs. For several years, Resid sent $87 a month to repay the donor who sponsored their trip from Bosnia. Now, Subha and Rafit work at Herkimer Distribution LLC, which operates on the former Guilford Mills property. Resid hopes to soon open a carpentry business. Resid became a U.S. citizen in 1998. When Subha went to take her citizenship test, Resid was not allowed to accompany her, and her limited English prohibited her from passing. "So, she’s not a citizen, but that’s OK," Resid said, smiling at his wife. *** Resid’s family returned to Bosnia in 2000, visiting their former home. Pictures from before and after the war show the house’s transformation from a square, white stucco building surrounded by grass and flowers to an abandoned shell, littered with remains of the life the family once had. A grenade had destroyed part of the roof. Resid’s uncle is working to restore the house for his family. Resid sends money to help with the work. "Bosnia is just as beautiful as every country," Rasim said. "If there’s a war anywhere, there’s damage. But it’s just a normal country. Bosnians are normal people." Ten years removed from their life in Bosnia, the Ikeljics work to bridge their two cultures. "We will always be Bosnian, but we are also American," Merima said. "Just like other Americans — like everyone else." |
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