On Wednesday in Seattle, something local Bosnian Americans called “out of the body” happened: the Bosnia and Herzegovina national team thrashed Qatar 3–1 in the group stage of the FIFA World Cup. Thousands of members of the Bosnian diaspora took to the city streets with flags, songs, and tears of joy—for them, this match was not just a game, but a symbol of hope and gratitude toward their new homeland.
Elvira Vojinović, one of the first Bosnian refugees to arrive in Seattle in the 1990s, could hardly believe what she was seeing. She fled war and ethnic cleansing, with not a word of English and no one to rely on in a foreign country. “You have to understand what football means to people who for years were told that our nation wouldn’t survive,” she said before the match.
Elvira’s story began in Prijedor, a city that once was known for its diversity. When Yugoslavia broke apart, Bosnia was engulfed by war, with concentration camps and mass graves. Elvira somehow managed to survive: a soldier pulled her out of a crowd, but an elderly woman stopped the girl. Many of her friends and relatives died. “Either you stay and you die, or you go,” she recalls.
In the United States, Elvira came through a refugee camp in Croatia, where she met her future husband, Amir. After six months of dating, they were already flying to New York, without even knowing which city they would be sent to. At the airport, Elvira struggled to find Seattle on a map—and immediately fell in love with the region, which is no accident called the “Emerald City.” A mild maritime climate, evergreen conifer forests, numerous parks, and scenic views of Puget Sound make it one of the greenest cities in the United States. With the help of a Croatian immigrant, they found English classes and work.
When there were very few Bosnians in Seattle, the Vojinović family helped create the Bosnian Community Center—a community hub that today supports new arrivals. Language classes are held here, people are advised on employment, cultural events are organized, and social support is provided. A Bosnian football club was also founded—for example, Seattle Bosnian—where children and adults can play sports. Elvira works at the PCC Community Markets chain, a cooperative grocery store of natural products owned by shoppers, known for supporting local farmers, environmentally friendly initiatives, and returning profits to co-op members. Amir works in construction; they raised two sons. Both boys played football from childhood, and today the 55-year-old Amir still goes out onto the field. “The first thing a baby gets is a football,” Elvira says with a smile.
Bosnians came to the match from across America and Europe. Zlatan Sehić, a 67-year-old Bosnian native, traveled from Idaho—his hands were trembling with excitement as he smoked at Pike Place Market, one of the oldest public markets in the United States, established as far back as 1907. The place became a symbol of Seattle thanks to the famous “fish throwing” and its lively stalls. For immigrant communities, it also functions as an economic platform: ethnic goods are sold here, people share their culture, and newcomers from many different countries start businesses. Admir Alić, from Atlanta and a member of the superfan group, didn’t hide his passion: “We went through a lot in the 90s. We just want to show the world that we’re still here—and in a positive way.”
The atmosphere at the stadium was festive: sunny weather, a mix of cultures—Qatar fans in white and Bosnians in blue. When Qatar scored, their supporters celebrated along with everyone else. Said Jusuf, born in Qatar and coming from Minnesota, said: “Football is in my blood.” But the day was special in particular for Bosnians. Seattle was chosen as one of the host cities for the 2026 World Cup, thanks to its developed sports infrastructure, including Lumen Field, experience hosting major tournaments, and support from local authorities. Matches in the group stage are expected here, and possibly the Round of 16 as well.
Before the match, Elvira noticed a banner reading “PRIJEDOR,” and her heart skipped a beat. Memories flooded back, but now they mingled with pride. As Bosnia took the field to the sounds of the song “Take Me to America,” which fans sang along with the marching band, Vojinović prepared traditional ćevapi—small sausages of minced meat (lamb, beef, or pork) that are grilled and served with flatbread, onions, and ajvar. In Seattle, Bosnian cuisine can be tasted at specialized restaurants, for example Balkan Grill or Meša, and frozen ćevapi and other products (Bosnian cheeses, pastries) can also be bought at ethnic stores such as European Foods. Elvira watched Edin Džeko’s play with bated breath.
Particular emotion was sparked by a goal from young forward Kerim Alajbegović, who after an exquisite dribble sent the ball into Qatar’s net. For Elvira, it became a symbol: the team includes players from different ethnic backgrounds, including people from the diaspora—sons of families who passed through hell. “Here we are playing under one flag—at the World Cup in Seattle. That’s incredible!” she exclaims.
Amir Vojinović couldn’t catch his breath until the third goal by the national team—only then did he exhale: “I was able to breathe.” After the final whistle, the stadium emptied, and tears streamed down Elvira’s cheeks. “Honestly, I don’t care whether they win the next match,” she admitted. “For me, this was the peak.”
Based on: Seattle-area Bosnian Americans savor historic World Cup match