Near the border to Croatia in the northwest region of Bosnia and Herzegovina sits the town of Bihać. Its location and history make it a symbolic place where various conflicts intertwine. The territory remains largely covered in mines from the Bosnian War and is a crucial hub for many people who travel the so-called Balkan route, fleeing the ongoing conflicts in Africa, the Middle East, and Asia.

The Flamingo Loophole gym, consisting of a climbing gym and outdoor sports facilities, was founded in 2022. It allows residents, migrants in transit, and asylum seekers to climb and find community as a means to alleviate anxiety and mental trauma. The project was created by Mediterranean Hope, the refugee and migrant program of the Federation of Protestant Churches in Italy, and Spektrum (KES), a local sports association.

For residents and migrants in postwar Bosnia, climbing the outdoor wall is more than just a sport. “I started climbing to calm my anxiety,” says Alma Rizvić, age twenty. “Now I can no longer imagine my life without this sport.”

The gym is frequented by around thirty adults and over fifty children who are residents of Bihać, as well as some migrant groups. Bringing together people of varying ages, backgrounds, and experiences, the project provides a safe place for those fleeing conflict, discrimination, and poverty, and for residents dealing with memories of the war that ended in 1995.

“I was born in the middle of the Balkan War,” says Haris Hrnjica, thirty years old, a Bosniak carpenter working in the family business. “Here all middle-aged people carry the effects of war within them. My father, for example, fought and was injured. He has five pieces of iron in his leg and has never been the same person as before. The war has led to a lack of opportunities and jobs, and most young people are leaving. But I want to remain here, where I have work, family, my river, and the mountains. Climbing makes me feel free, puts me in a deep connection with my body, and allows me to show myself what I can do.”

Migrants from Syria, Palestine, Afghanistan, Pakistan, sub-Saharan Africa, and even Cuba and India don’t come to the gym just to climb. “Many are not in [adequate] physical condition to climb, due to injuries sustained during their long and difficult journey on the Balkan route. Some also come just to be together, to do something different than usual. The gym has become a meeting point, a community center.”

For Adis Rošić, twenty-four, who lives in Bihać, the gym is a way to find new friends. “I’m an introverted guy, and I don't go out often. This for me is a safe place where I meet a group of friends. We often go climbing outdoors, camping, eating, or walking together.”

For Senida Karasalihović, thirty-three, a graphic designer and mother of two, climbing was helpful during a period of burnout. “I started going to the gym while I was looking for something to make me feel good. At the beginning I was very shy. I wasn't used to playing sports with other people. But now I couldn't do without it.”

In climbing, gender discrimination can be eliminated. “At the beginning there were many prejudices,” explains Rizvić, a sports teacher for children aged five to eleven years old. “Many people thought that it was a dangerous sport, that strength was needed, that it was aimed only at males. Now this idea exists much less. I love seeing that there are more and more boys and girls interested and that we are creating a small climbing community here in Bihać.”

The gym is also frequented by migrants who stay for a short period in the Lipa refugee camp, twenty kilometers away, and in the reception center reserved for families located within the city. In 2023, authorities with the Bosnia and Herzegovina arm of the International Organization for Migration recorded close to 35,000 irregular arrivals, an increase of 25 percent compared to 2022.

“We organized courses for small groups,” explains Léa Karam, twenty-eight, one of the project managers for Mediterranean Hope, “even if it wasn’t always easy. The camps close early, at four o’clock in the afternoon. And for those living in Lipa, it was necessary to reach the gym with the vehicles of voluntary organizations. Despite these difficulties, however, for several months we’ve managed to get many people to participate.”

Karam has worked with the project since she arrived from Lebanon three years ago. “I also practiced climbing in Lebanon, so when I had this job opportunity I jumped at it. There are many things in common between the two countries. The mined territories and the health consequences of war are things we are used to in Lebanon, exactly like in Bosnia.”

In Bihać it’s not just the emotional consequences of the Balkan Wars that continue to be felt every day, thirty years later. Much of the public infrastructure is still unusable, as are many private buildings that still have mortar holes in their façades.

“We still have a lot to do to rebuild our city,” explains Elvedin Sedic, mayor of Bihać and father of four, two of whom are regular gym goers. “We invest a good part of our budget in reconstruction, but if we really want to recover, we must allocate much more of it to tourism, sports, and public health. PTSD affects a large number of our inhabitants, both those who took an active part in the war and civilians. Taking care of them is our duty.”

A large part of the territory remains mined. “It is a very serious problem because some areas that we could dedicate to tourism are still unusable. Demining lands is very expensive, and it will still take a long time before we can get all our territory back. Officially our citizens should number around sixty thousand, but in reality they do not exceed twenty-five to thirty thousand inhabitants. The worst thing is that it is the young people who are leaving. Before, it was the lack of work that led them to move abroad (mainly to Germany, Austria, and Switzerland). Now they are missing the hope of being able to build their lives here. For this reason we should invest not only in creating jobs, but in activities – places for cultural and sporting events, which make us think of a future here.”

The Mediterranean Hope project will end in 2025, but the local partner Spektrum (KES) will keep the gym open with the help of the many volunteers who use the gym. “Now this project,” concludes Niccolò Parigini, one of the project managers, “can continue to live without our support. In fact, in recent years, a group of our volunteers has formed who can work with the local association to grow the love of climbing in Bihać and beyond.”