Wasted Years
By Ljiljana Kovacevic




Ivan, Alen and Renato work in the fields of the Marjanovac convent in Aleksandrovac near Banjaluka, the capital of Republika Srpska, the Serb entity in Bosnia and Herzegovina. Ivan is from Belgrade (Serbia), Alen from Zenica (Bosnia), and Renato is from Split (Croatia). All three of them are attempting to kick the same vice -- drugs.

There are currently 45 young men from around the former Yugoslavia in Marjanovac. They are undergoing group therapy to break their addiction. Sister Marijana, a therapist in the convent, says that the convent is not a clinic and that these young men are not undergoing any psychiatric treatment. The collective therapy programme focuses instead on habit-breaking. "Every habit is dangerous, because it enslaves," she says.

The centre in Marjanovac is part of the Susret Community, a humanitarian organisation founded by Bernadica Juretic in Split ten years ago. Therapy basically consists of a strict regime of discipline. The centre enforces army-like discipline upon its wards. They must get up early, do morning callisthenics, and work all day, mostly in the centre itself, but they also work in the convent's fields. Saturday is reserved for recreation, entertainment, sports and cultural activities. Sunday is the only rest day.

People come to the convent on someone's recommendation. There are no other special terms of admittance. The only requirement is that the ward, or his family, must pay half the cost of rehabilitation. The convent does not discriminate either on religious or ethnic grounds, when deciding whether to admit someone. A ward must strictly adhere to the convent's rules or leave. The programme lasts two years.

Ivan, Alen and Renato probably would never have met, had it not been for the convent. They are now good friends who help each other and the others. They say that they would rather not talk about the war in Bosnia, in which their peoples fought. All three of them were so engulfed in their own personal problems that they almost did not have the time to notice what was going on around them. Together, they are now attempting to make up for the time that they lost.

Alen is a Bosniak from Zenica, he is 28 years old, and has been in the convent for eight months. Like the others, he does not want to divulge his surname. Prior to Marjanovac, he has never been treated for his addiction. He says that he started taking drugs when he was 12, first marijuana, hashish, and alcohol. "It went like this for some time and then I began combining various pills with alcohol and increasing the dosages," he said.

Four years ago, Alen became addicted to heroin. This was about the time that he became a father. "My troubles multiplied, because I now had to take care of a family. I chose the other way instead, and sold everything I owned to get drugs...," he says.

Alen said that he applied for treatment in the convent on his own, but admits that the decision was made for him. "A man simply comes to a point, and ends up here. I arrived when my problems with my family and the law got out of control. Here, I am learning to live life properly, and not stumble over the simplest of problems," Alen says.

Renato (30) arrived from Split 20 months ago. His rehabilitation is almost complete. He made several attempts to beat his addiction in the past, but never succeeded. "The problem was that I had not made a firm decision. I had some ideas of my own, I thought I could handle it. I did not listen to what they were telling me in the Community. This time, I'm taking things seriously and I hope that everything will work out," he says.

"I smoked pot and hashish in high school, I thought it was cool, I wanted to be different. The first time I saw heroin I tried it, and used it from then on," Renato says, admitting that he sold hashish and marijuana for a while to earn money for heroin.

"It is not easy to beat the hell of drugs. Here we have a chance to change. We simply missed going through some of the stages that our peers, non-addicts, went through. Drugs totally ruin your character and an addict has nothing but his addiction," Renato says.

Ivan (27) is from Belgrade. He arrived in the convent a year ago. He initially sought assistance for his problem in all of the medical institutions known to him in Serbia. When he did not succeed, he tried a Community in Medjugorje. The community there was more religious and, not being able to stand, he left after a year. He was soon back on drugs, and it was even worse than before. He says that he has found hope and peace in Marjanovac.

"The programme here is pretty acceptable to the man from the street who needs help. You get to learn about yourself here," Ivan says. His story and history of drug abuse is the same as thousands of others. It started with alcohol and marijuana at a younger age, ending with heroin. Ivan shot heroin every day for eight years. His parents knew nothing about it until the money
trouble began. It was too late by then.

Young people who seek help in the convent see the Community as their only hope, but the local authorities and neighbours are sceptical. The Republika Srpska Ministry of Health and Welfare called last year for the Community to be closed, saying that the convent did not have a permit for the programme.

A neighbour of the convent says that the only thing that townspeople know about it is that some "junkies" are out there. "We see them working in the fields. We do not know who they are or where they are from, and to tell you the truth, I don't care. We only know that they are under the patronage of the Catholic Church," Mitar Adzic, an inhabitant of Marjanovac, mostly populated by Serb Orthodox Christians, says. Adzic just shakes his head when he is told that the young men are trying to break their drug addiction. "There is a place for drug rehabilitation. I should believe that it is a job for doctors, and not the church," he says.

Sister Marijana understands the distrust of the locals, as the memories of the war in Bosnia are still fresh. She says she is not worried about their suspiciousness because the convent has not had any trouble from its neighbours. She declined to comment on the Ministry of Health's initiative, because it did not receive any support.

She confirms that the community's wards are not allowed to contact anyone from the outside, apart from their families, but that even this is very limited. "Therapy lasts two years and our wards are not allowed to contact anyone on the outside. They are allowed to see their families three times a year. They can write as many as letters as they want, though. Telephone
conversations are allowed under supervision, on holidays," Sister Marijana says.

Ivan, Alen and Renato return from the field. All three say life has just begun for them.

(BETA)