Is it getting any better?

One minute it seems as though the dust is settling and hands are reaching out. The next minute it appears as though those hands are holding rocks, grenades and Molotov cocktails. March 17th was the 4 year anniversary of riots carried out by Albanians on Serbian communities where 19 people died. It was also the 1 month anniversary of Kosovo's independence. There was bound to be some sort of excitement on that particular Monday. People were expecting something, anyway.

The prior Friday, a group of Serbian protesters entered a courthouse in North Mitrovica to symbolically take over the institution from the EU. The following the UN police and KFOR troops organized a operation to reclaim this courthouse. In the process of this at least one was killed and over a hundred sent to the hospital wounded. The link above is a good international news perspective. Mitrovica, the "flashpoint" for the majority of the newsworthy conflict due to its proximity to Serbia itself, is at least 50 miles away from Prishtina. As I may have mentioned in previous posts, the Serbs near hear, the Serbs that participate in my class, are geographically quite far from the country they claim as their own. they are in an isolated pocket surrounded by the majority Albanian population without a river and a bridge separating them. This could either make them easier targets to crazy Albanians around them, which many of them fear they are. For nearly four weeks, I prepared for my entire class to be there. The Albanian kids showed up, we waited, and decided to wait until next time. Maybe they'd come then. For nearly four weeks, I talked to the Serbian students who told me, "tomorrow, we'll be there." The Albanian kids, showed up . . . and we waited. It was discouraging for me and for the Albanian kids, who felt they had been given up on. As frustrated as I became every day, I saw hope in the fact that Serbian students were even entertaining the idea of coming. Even though they usually didn't show, they said that they would, which meant that they wanted to. So, eventually, maybe they would.

Well, the effect geography and isolation seems to be one of the many of the Serbs near Prishtina realizing that they have to face reality. They do and always will say that, "Kosovo is Serbia." However, in many cases, I think some are realizing that no matter how much they say it, it doesn't make their daily lives any easier. And so believe some of my Serbian students . . . maybe I should say a FEW of my Serbian students. Most of them have not returned, and I don't expect them to ever come back. There are quite a few reasons for it. Some may say fear of those crazy Albanians in Prishtina, but most of them would say that wasn't a major issue. For most of them I think it's pressure. Government, parents, teachers and friends, although probably not threatening them if they do come, are telling them that coming to Prishtina to be in a class with an American teacher and a bunch of Albanian teenagers is wrong and is contradictory to the Serbian cause they are fighting for. That could be a whole lot of pressure on a sixteen-year-old.

The beauty is that, despite any pressure, there are about seven of these kids that don't care. Seven of these kids still want to see their Albanian classmates, still want to come to the American Corner of the National Library, still want to see their American teacher and still want to work together and have a good time. And for about three classes we have done just that, almost like nothing had ever happened . . . almost. There is still some whispering, some looking over shoulders, small sighs of distrust. But that is all easily forgotten when they are facing each other with the task of telling each other what their "highs" and "lows" of the day were. We've all got them and very few of us don't want to talk about them, and to share them with each other once again puts everyone on the same level, on the same page, facing very similar daily ups and downs.