We left that country with heavy hearts Hoping we would return one day It takes a lot of courage to accept That a war can destroy our pasts forever.
He also feels at home on the basketball court, in the Swiss Alps and on stage β whether the political stage, as a voice for youth and diversity, or as a musician entertaining crowds of thousands. Since arriving in Switzerland as a teenage migrant, Ivica has become a master of cultural and linguistic codes; this is what it takes to break down boundaries, he believes, and breaking down boundaries is what Ivica does.
It was the early s, and the village was still part of Yugoslavia. He aced exams, had many friends and lived a carefree childhood β there was peaceful coexistence between people of different faiths β until the country went to war with itself and his family was forced to leave. He frequently worked across Europe and beyond, and through a job in a chocolate factory he had earned a permit to live and work in Switzerland with his family β so he used it.
On arrival, he tried to reach a compromise with his parents β perhaps he could go back to Yugoslavia, stay with his grandmother and finish school there? But his idea quickly became untenable. Their family home was occupied by Mujahideen, who slept in their beds and sat around their dinner table. Their relatives were killed by people from neighbouring villages. Mass killings drove hundreds of thousands of Yugoslavs to flee their homes.
People flocked west β by train, car and often on foot. Language was one barrier, but the cultural codes of Switzerland represented a separate challenge. He turned up in hiking boots and long socks β and was the only one to do so; the other kids all wore jeans and sneakers. And while the Swiss enjoyed their muesli in the morning, Ivica choked on the arid mix. Aarau, Switzerland. Ivica coaches basketball to children in the Hallenbad Telli sports centre.
