Durmator National Park

Yet another long weekend offered another opportunity to explore the countries around Kosovo. This time it would be Montenegro. formerly a republic of Serbia, Montenegro obtained independence late last year. Like the rest of the Balkans, it is an amazing landscape whose beauty is slowly being discovered. The trip included 9 people from Switzerland, Belgium, Canada, Australia and the US and an intinerary that would cover mountains and ocean coast.

We left Friday after work and after a 5 hour drive, our three cars arrived at a little mountain hut complete with kitchen, fireplace and three bedrooms to accommodate us for the weekend. The moon was full and the snowy silouhette of the mountain was clear uner the stars. The next day we would wake and take about a four hour hike up through the mountains. Two of the group had been here before but had never done the hike because of too much snow. This winter was much more mild so there was a good chance the snow would not hinder us too badly.

At about 10.00, from a small lake just inside the park gate, we began to head through the pine forest up the base. It was quite warm so some of us were wearing shorts, short-sleeves and sunglasses with sweatshirts tied around our waists. We had packed ample amounts of water and some food for lunch that was spread out in backpacks. The trail was well marked and easy to follow. Small patches of snow showed up, but nothing that couldn't be walked through in tennis shoes. The higher we climbed the deeper the snow became, but it was lways in patches that were surrounded by dry land. After a coupe of hours we found a dry spot and sat for lunch. There were two maps in the group and everyone took their turns looking at it and agreeing on which way to go. The markers were getting a bit harder to find with the snow which posed a bit of a challenge. But we all put faith in our map readers and were ready to conintue on.

The half-way point was a lake and we were apparently about half-way there. A loop would then take us around and back to the lake at the bottom where we started. As we continued up the snow of course became deeper, at some points people fell into snow piles up to their waists. The best bet was to follow exactly the person's steps in front of you. Even though all nine of us were failrly fit, it was inevitable that some fell behind. Four of us continued following footprints of a hiker from a day or two before us. They continued up, ridge after ridge, all of us assuming the lake would appear over the next ridge. At one point we looked back and noticed our 5 companions were no where in site. They had somshow found a marker and had taken a right up to a different part of the mountain. They knew they were on the right trail . . . we weren't as certain. The other detriment to us was that none of the four of us held a map. All we had were the footprints to follow and the hope they lead in the right direction.

Bram was wearing shorts, natacha had on tennis shoes, we were all soaking wet but had choice other than to continue. for every up hill stretch there was a downhill slide. These were steep and nearly impossible to decend on foot. Our jackets became our sleds and we flew down, often out of control. When Brm's leg-bare body swoosh by me I couldnt' help but laugh while at the same time think that we were doomed. The one thing we had on our side at this point was that there was quite a bit of sunlight left. This continued for at least an hour. Finally we rounded a ridge and looked above at our 5 friends screaming down at us! Oh God, were we happy. Now, at least they'd know where to send the rescue team if we didn't make it back. They didn't stay in our site for long, but we again had hope that we were going the right direction and that we would meet up with them at some point.

And, sure enough, the path they were on merged with ours and we all continued for at least another hour back into a forest, less snow and finally our starting lake. We were wet, exausted, cold, dirty, hungry and ready to sit down to giant plate of meat, bottles of wine and flasks of beer. The 5 with the maps admitted that there was a point that they accepted the fact that we were lost and it would be up to them to send the rescue team to find what could possible be our dead bodies. The four hour hike ended up being seven. THe next day while eating breakfast outside our hut we saw a group of people heading up the mountain equipped with snow shoes, hiking poles and winter boots, clearly prepared for what we were not.

On the Sunday three of us headed back to Pristina while the rest made their way to a warmer coastal climate in Budva and Kotor. The pictures are amazing, and the experience is now one to smile at and remember as an amazing experience. Although, few of us would admit to thinking it very amazing while we were int he middle of it.

Kids go to the dogs

Because of the large amount of stray, verile dogs wandering the landscape of Kosovo, it is easy to understand why so many people here are absolutely terrified of man's best friend. This makes it rather ironic that there is a shelter here that takes in these stray dogs and trains them to be of service to humans that need the companionship. I guess it takes all kinds, though. And it is true that this dog shelter is kept alive by the donations given by the international community here that don't have the space or time to keep their own pet. This is how I got to know the shelter. Good friends come here weekly with bags of food in order to walk the dogs through the surrounding village and mountains. It makes for the perfect spring afternoon.

SOOOOOOOOO, this is how I came to bring my two groups of Albanian and Serbian high school students to walk the dogs for the afternoon. A good number of them were terrified and unwilling to even let a dog get their noses close to their feet. That's at least when the walk started. Through the village and up the mountain the dogs played, ran and showed their true loyal doggie traits to those doubting students. By the end of the walk the fear had subsided if not vanished for most of them.

Ardite who has lost a lot of family in the past few years and often does not have much to smile about was one of the terrified at the begining of the day. By the time we were back at the shelter, she was calling me to take her picture with every dog that walked by her on their way back to the cages. Milica, a Serbian girl, and Faruk, an Albanian boy found themselves toward the end of the group walking a Lassie-looking dog. I fell back with them and we walked our way up the hill. Half way up we decided to have a seat and check out the view. We could see villages all the way to the opposite moutnain range. Blue skies and green pastures laid in front of us. We talked about dogs, nature and other random subjects that were easy to discuss in English. At one point Milica said, "A year ago I would never have guessed that I would be sitting on a hill with an American, an Albainian and a dog." I could not hold in the laughter and asked her how it felt. "It's pretty cool," was her simple answer.

If Ardite, Miica and Faruk are the only three reasons I'm here, that's is 100% worth it for me. Faruk and Milica are unique students that are curious, open minded and willing to find out more. This is not the case with most of them and that is okay. Teachers have to come to the conclusion that they will not get to all of their students, probably not even most of them. If we can get to just the two or three, we've done our job. If we are able to get to 5 or more, we've done our job well.

Albania . . . Albania . . .

You border on the Adriatic
Your land is mountainous
And your chief export is
Chrome

Thank you Coach for that geography lesson 20 years ago given from a famous pub in Boston. Everything I ever knew about Albania before coming here, I learned from you.

It was Easter weekend and five of us jumped in a rental 4x4 and headed to the southeast toward the Kosovo neighbor. They share a border, they share a flag and they share a language, but the calm, laid back feel of Albania was quite the contrast from the high energy, tense feel that pravails in Kosovo. We were lucky if we got a paved roads during our drive, but we were not lacking in beautiful scenery and friendly, helpful locals. They were often facinated by the idea of five women from 5 countries driving around their country. We went from lakes to mountains, countryside to seaside and entered back into Kosovo through a river valley that was quite unbelievable. Surprisingly we saw as many crosses as we saw minerettes. We watched a parade lead by a crucifix march up a mountain to a church on the night of Good Friday. Happy Easter signs were hung in virtually every town we drove through. That definitely wouldn't be something seen out in the open in Kosovo. The Kosovar Albanians like to think of themselves as one of them, but the Albanians from Albania feel little connection to the provence that is seeking independence. A bit strange, really, but obvious in conversations with Albanians about their neighboring Albanians. The generally seem to have little if any concern about what happens here. they don't see it as having much of an effect on their country. The irony of the fact that every Kosovar ALbanian that knew we were going to Albania acted as if we were going back to their home land . . . a place they share with their Albanian brothers and sisters.

The poverty and untouched spaces of Albania in addition to the relaxed atmosphere reminded me a lot of traveling around the Domonican Republic. Albania doesn't have the tourist draw of the DR yet, but given what Croatia and Montenegro have done for their tourist industries, I have a hunch Albania will figure it out soon.

Social Experiment

Driving around Kosovo there are some common sights that you see. Gas stations all over the place, random shopping centers in the middle of no where, and hotels that are all bright and shiny, but located where no normal tourist would want to go. Given the mob culture around here, it's pretty widely known that many of these are money-laundering cover-ups. Two girl friends of mine and I, all with enquiring minds, have been wondering lately about these hotels. Who actually stays in them? Are there even beds in there or is it just another smoky cafe? Last Saturday night became out night to see what we could find out.

Theresa works for the UN and asked some of her security guards about some of the hotels in the town of Ferizaj, a small municipality about 30 minutes away form Pristina. With a surprisingly straight face, they told her about two, saying that the Motel Europa 92 and Motel Man were all right. At about 8.30 that night, after spending the drive discussing what our story would be as to why were checking into this place, we drove by the Motel XXX. NOT the one for us. Europa 92 showed up next, so we pulled the white, clearly marked UN vehicle into the parking lot. If our inability to keep a straight face didn't blow our back-packer cover, the car did.

Walking in the front door brought us directly into the cafe/restaurant. Inside, like every other care, were only smoking men drinking coffee, and every one of their eyes turned to look at us . . . and kept looking at us as we tried to communicate with the waiter/host that we wanted a room. His English wasn't great and our Albanian isn't the best, yet it was surprisingly difficult to convey our request to him. "Room" and "3 beds" are not the most difficult words to communicate to a hotel proprietor. Not sure what he thought we wanted at first, but eventually he picked up some keys and lead us through a very inconspicuous door, turned on the light and walked us upstairs. On the way up we tried to find something strange, dirty or creepy about the place, but the truth was that it was quite clean and impressive. The first room he showed us had three single beds, a clean bathroom and a balcony overlooking the parking lot and mountains. A heck of a lot better than many rooms these three traveling women had slept in before.

We did it! This was a big deal! Right?! It was supposed to be, but once we were actually in and thinking the spare sheets we brought from home might not be necessary, it all seemed like no big deal anymore. By 9.00 we were ready to tour Ferizaj and have something to eat . . . destination being Benaf, the largest department store in the area and only thing open and worth gong to at 9.00 at night. Pizzas from the cafe and paper cups from the store were what we bought . . . needed nourishment and cups in order to drink the local liquor that was waiting for us back at the room. We figured we had to make the entire experience as "local" as possible. Before going back to the room, though, we figured we'd have a glass of wine in the hotel cafe, doing our best to handle the constant staring from the other patrons. What the hell were they looking at?! Never seen three foreign women before?!

The uneventful night continued with a drink, conversation and some music in the room. We all nestled in our beds and fell asleep. It seemed as though there was nothing to our social experiment. But then night continued, to morning and as we all woke up, we asked each other if anyone heard the knocking throughout the night? Nothing on our door, but several knocks from the hall. We didn't think much about it until we walked out into the hall and down the stairs. About 5 doors to rooms that were all closed the night before were now open at 8.30 and they had been used. Never once did we see any sign of life in the hotel other than our own, but clearly there were people around. So where were they coming from? We never saw anyone walk through the door from the cafe into the hotel. Was there another door? Sure enough, at the bottom of the stairs was a door I had not noticed before that went right into the hotel from a side parking lot. That was red flag to me. It then became clear that this was not a hotel that generally rented rooms for a full night. Knocking, used rooms, back door, no people in the hotel at normal evening hours . . . DAMN!!!!

It started out as an adventure, it became just another night in a hotel, it ended as a morning of Austrian, a Swedish and American women walking out of a questionable hotel without being trafficked back to their own countries in a sex trade.
Hehehehe, a lot of people say we were lucky. Don't think there was really that much danger in it. They wouldn't hurt internationals around here, but maybe our nationalities were all that kept us safe? Doesn't seem quite fair to the local women that might have found themselves in a Motel Europa 92 room that night, or any other night.

Symolism - Us and Them

March 7 is Teacher's Day in Kosovo. I began the day noticing dark clouds and feeling a bit chilly. Wasn't all that psyched to go to the class today, but then Paitim and Arber pulled out of their bags two roses and gave them to me. "Today is Teacher's Day and we want to give you a flower." Enough to make any cloud not so dark and to make the sunshine warm on your face. For the past three Wednesdays, the Serbian students from this class have not shown up for various reasons - protests, school obligations . . . whatever. Normally they arrive fifteen minutes before 1.00, but today, when the little blue van rolled up at five past one, I was ready to give them a hard time for making me worry. That was squelched by a pink potted plant and a bottle of some spray perfume. The sun became even warmer.

The past couple of weeks have been really tough with the kids. Not for anything they did, but for the political and social situations that exist in Kosovo. I have made sure to stay away from discussing these during the class for fear of tensions getting too high and discussions turning into arguments. The problem is that the kids can't help but bring with them all of the events and emotions they have outside of the classroom, especially the Serbian kids. Politically, they are losing right now. All day long they are hearing parents, teachers and political representatives tell them that there will never be an independent Kosovo, Kosovo belongs to Serbia, Albanians are bad and the US/UN are the evil ones helping them. Generally they don't express these thoughts and feelings in the class, which is good. What they do, however, is wear symbols and flags that, to Albanians all over Kosovo, represent the blood, murder and rape that the Milosevic regime carried out during ethnic cleansing of Albanians in the 1990s. The Serbian cross is the quintessential example. It's meaning to the Albanians is the equivalent to a Nazi swastika and Serbian students are wearing it to class on t-shirts and scarves. The Albanian students expressed how bad this symbol makes them feel, but only to me. As the teacher, what can I do?

As I said, politically the Serbs are losing right now. They are on the defensive and the political message they are getting from their communities is Serbian pride, unity and nationalism. For me to refuse to allow these students to wear their symbols of pride to class would be refusing them the one thing their people are holding on to. Yet to allow them to wear them to class makes their classmates feel uncomfortable and insulted. My solution was a lesson on symbolism. I discussed the importance of symbols, non-political ones at first, and how they make us feel when we see them. From the golden arches to the black and white yin-yang we talked about what these symbols represent and the emotions they evoke. Then I showed them the confederate flag and explain the emotions this evokes for different ethnic groups in the US and how it can literally divide a community in half and make enemies out of friends.

At that point I had 6 national symbols very recognizable in Kosovo - two of them Albanian, two Serbian plus the US flag and the symbol of NATO. As I show each symbol, the kids are to write down three sentences:

When I see this symbol I feel . . . because . . .

This symbol makes me want to . . . because . . .

This symbol reminds me of . . . because . . .

At the beginning of every class I put students randomly into heterogeneous groups for the activities I plan because if I left it up their choice, it would be "them" and "us" every day. On this day during this activity I told them they could sit wherever they wanted so they could use their own language to figure out the right English words. Each student had their own cards to write their answers, I told them they were private and anonymous and they should be honest. Now, a week later, I am still trying to figure out the reason for the results.

The answers students gave were generally predictable. A lot of them wrote words like hate, proud, enemy, neighbor, killer and war. I could tell whether the answers were written by Albanians or Serbs simply by the words they used for the given symbol. The surprising part was how differently my two classes carried out the exercise. The class that I meet here in Pristina instantly divided themselves for the exercise - Serbians on one side, Albanians on the other. They collaborated with their friends, occasionally glancing over to the table of "others" to size them up. Their answers on a whole got quite extreme as well, with the Serbian kids being the harshest. Even the symbol of a white hat generally worn by older Albanian men reminded the Serbs of, "killers because people who wear them kill," When writing about the US flag, the Serbian students checked with me first to see if I would get offended if they were honest. It was clear the "them" and "us" divide ran deep with these kids. The Albanian students answered with honesty, but much less hate. Their words for the Serbian symbols were "ultranationalist" "death" and "war" but almost no references to hate for a greater, "them."

The results from the other class that I meet in a smaller community outside of Pristina were recognizably different. When I gave them the option to change seats, the answer was a very matter-of-fact look of, "there's no reason to change." So, in their heterogeneous groups they chose to sit in, they carried out the same exercise. There was talking and collaborating amongst friends of the same ethnicity, but in this class there was also collaboration between ethnicities, clarifying meanings and origins of the symbols of the "other." The overall tone was noticeably less "us and them" and much more curiosity and confusion. Yes, the words of hate, war and death came up as well, but equally so the words "confusion," "understanding," and "friends" came up with this group.

I've been sharing these results with Serbs, Albanians, internationals, government officials and they are all equally fascinated and confused. The nationalistic views are not surprising to most. It's where the students showed glimpses compassion and understanding that was the most fascinating. It's there and it exists with some of them. What I need to figure out is how to tap into and focus on that. What makes it difficult are the few whose nationalist pride runs deep. A couple of them continue to wear the Serbian cross to class and even break out into nationalist songs. It's those provocations that could destroy the class. It's strong students willing to work through these things and myself figuring out what to focus on and how that will keep it all going.

The week after all of this "us vs. them" activity that accentuated their differences, both Serbian and Albanian students came to class on a dreary day and handed me flowers, plants and perfume. On one hand, these kids have their own cultural symbols with political weight that they value greatly, yet evoke feelings of hate and reminders of war. On the other hand they share cultural traditions with personal weight like teacher's day and mother's day that evoke feelings of love and reminders of good times. Will it ever be possible for the second hand to weigh more?!

The rain in Spain

As our bus entered the old city walls of Cadiz in the sunshine, Mom and I talked of the beach and how it was a bummer that we didn't bring any sunscrean. It was mid-afternoon and we were excited to have the sand between our toes. Juan Carlos is a good friend of a good friend of mine in Pristina. He is a police officer origionally from Caediz that lived and worked in Pristina for a year, well before I arrived. Hazel put me in contact with him and he offered us a two-bedroom flat he owns and rents out in Cadiz for a good price. From Budapest I sent him an email saying I was sick and that I might need to see a doctor while I was in Spain. It turned out that with his schedule, the only time he could take me was the afternoon we arrived. No problem. Mom and I could head to the beach later. Juan Carlos and I went to the hospital and mom walked the streets around the flat.

What we thought would be a quick trip to a clinic that ended with a perscription for whatever I had, ended up being a three-hour wait in an emergency room line that ended with nothing but the echoing words of the doctor. "Oh, esta normal. Esta normal tener estes para dos semenas." My Spanish isn't that great, but I knew "normal" and the more she said it the more frustrated I got. It was day seven of sick and the symptoms I had were NOT NORMAL!!! Thankfully Juan Carlos and I were a able to laugh about the wasted hours and unfavorable diagnosis. By the time we got back to the flat, it was almost dark and I was exhausted. Mom and I went to the supermarket to stock up for the week and get something for dinner. I decided to take the doctor's advice and make a plane chicken breast and white rice. One night of that and I knew it would be the only night of that. If the doc said I was normal, then I was going to eat normal in Spain, dammit!

The rain started to fall a bit that night. When we woke the next morning it was light, but mom and I were hopeful the sun would come out. We took public transport into the old city of Cadiz and began some exploring. During the 5 minute bus ride the light rain turned into a downpour that didn't stop all day. As we walked the old city streets, our feet got soaked, we were cold and after a couple of hours all we really wanted was a hot fire and hot cocoa. We found a great little restaurant, sat down and ordered some sopa de mariscos. Perfect for a late lunch on a cold day by the sea. And, hopefully, by the time we were finished, the rain will have stopped and the sun will be out. Well, we waited two hours and the weather did not change, We wanted so badly to explore more of the old city streets and shops, but our cold feet couldn't handle it. Juan Carlos wanted to meet up that night, so we decided to head back to the flat and practice the local custom of having a siesta. That night the torrential rains did not stop, and the threat stuck around for the rest of the week.

A day trip to Gibraltar gave us the best weather with partly cloudy skies and realtive warmth. Because of that, it might have been our favorite day in Spain as well, even though technically we weren't in Spain anymore. As we approached the border between Spain and the little chunk of the UK, we could see the familiar figure of The Rock looming up into the sky. The trip required crossing an internationl border across an airport runway. All of a sudden Spanish became English and Euros became pounds. We found the cable car up the rock to a 360 degree view that was Spain to the North, Africa to the South, The Atlantic to the West, the Mediterranian to the East and England to the bottom. For some reason the Rock is inhabited by loads of monkeys that roam free and jump right on the tourists when you least expect it. The Spaniards of Andalucia say that the day the last monkey on Gibraltar dies will be the day the area wil be Spanish again. We topped the day off with fish and chips and a glass of Guinness in order to complete the English afternoon.

The exploring continued for the rest of the week. The streets of Cadiz decorated for the big Carnival festival that would take place a couple weeks after mom and I would be gone. We were able to get a walk in by the beach, but it was never warm enough to actually take the shoes off and feel the sand. On another rainy day, we took a bus to a mountain town, Arcos de la Frontera where a cathedral and castle capped a mountain community. The days of sun and nights of salsa dancing didn't happen like we expected. I think think this really disappointed mom. She was packed and ready for a week in her sandals on the beach. What she really got was early spring chill and rain in the only pair of closed shoes in her suitcase. My hope is that she will remember her first trip to Europe fondly with the rain being a minor detail and the sights, sounds, smells and tastes of Espana leaving positive thoughts and feelings.

We headed back to Sevilla the day before mom was to fly out and spent the day exploring the winding streets. A glass of wine and plate of Paella topped off our week together in Spain. After sending mom on her way home, I stuck around Seviilla and continued for the next three days to wander around on my own. I was lucky enough to get invinted into the Cathedral's Sunday mass that is for locals only. A treat I wish mom could have shared with me. I hadn't been to church in ages. I considered myself lucky to say a prayer and be splashed with holy water in a place as amazing as that.

Although dampened by rain and infected with illness, the 2007 holiday in Spain was one worth having. To have the chance to take my mom through a foreign country was a good opportunity for me and hopefully a positive experience for her. I've traveled alone before and am always able to have a good time and meet good people. This time in Spain wasn't much different, but it did make me realize that having a close companion exploring with you adds a dynamic to a trip that is hard to beat with anyone else. Thank you, mom, for coming and meeting me to explore an amazing country.

Another Perspective

The link gives the perspective of those that clearly do not support Kosovo Albanian independence. There is no doubt that the Albanians are Muslims with a history of terrorism, which naturally brings all sorts of questions and skepticism to the idea of granting them independence.

It's been declared that three have died now due to the events that happened at the protest on Saturday. It is also being said that the deaths were caused by rubber bullets shot by the international police here. Apparently the Self-Determination movement has multiplied since Saturday increasing the number of Albanians that will now be active and vocal in their desire to get the international community - UN/EU - out of here and start running things on their own.

None of my Serbian kids came to class yesterday. They were afraid to come into the area where all of this is happening, which is understandable. The Albanian kids in the class were very concerned. I sat down and discussed the situation with them and the position of their classmates. The maturity and concern in them amazed me. After Fitim confessed his crush for Milica and how badly he wanted to see her again, they not only sat down and wrote a letter to their classmates ensuring that our class was a safe place for them and that they missed them, but they even suggested themselves going to the Serbian community to hold the class if it made their friends feel safer. "We are the future of Kosovo," they said with a bit of sarcasm mixed into their sincerity. Sarcastic or not, it is the absolute truth. Myself and my colleagues in the US Office have to now go to the Serbian school and find out what we can do to save these classes of mine. Let's hope these kids can rub off on the adults involved!

Unfortunate Beginning

Well, after a whole lot of drama and illness and not the best weather, I can say that a trip to Andalucia - southern Spain - with my mother wasa time worth having! My holiday was meant to start with a trip to Budapest for an English teacher conference. Would be a good opportunity to explore a city I've heard a lot of wonderful things about with some good people. Well, The day before I was meant to leave I got what I thought had to be food poisoning. Could not allow myself to get too far away from the toilet, so I got on the airplane a day later than I was supposed to. On day three of sick, I wasn't 100% but figured I was good enough to fly, so I did. Got to Budapest that night and participated in the conference events for the evening, not eating or drinking anything, but able to socialize. This bug I got was wearing itself off.

Day four I got up, had some toast for breakfast and got ready for the conference sessions for the day. I felt good, could be attentive, participate and ask questions like any normal healthy person would, undil about an hour before lunch when I started to sweat, my head began to pound and a dull ache worked its way into every muscle of my body. I told the presenter that I was so sorry and needed to go to my room. Okay, so the bug hadn't completely left me quite yet. Bummer, but a little more rest would do the trick. Days five and six of sick were days two and three in Budapest and absolutely nothing changed. My hotel room in bed was the only place my body wanted to go, although my head was dying to explore Buda and Pest - walking across the Danube River to the hot fresh spring baths. Having a bowl of goulash and a glass of local red wine. Experiencing the incredible night life I've heard so much about from friends that love this city. Nothing, I couldn't do any of it. The hotel room was nice, but didn't make for blog-worthy pictures.

The real concern came up the day before I was supposed to leave for Sevilla to meet my mom. Months ago my mom and I planned to meet up in Sevilla for her first excurion into Europe. She had been planning, packing and talking about it with friends for months. She had her Euros, she had her passport, she had maps, books and plant tickets ready to go back in St. Paul. Meanwhile, back in Europe Molly was miserable thinking about getting on an airplane to travel to another foreign country when all she wanted was to be taken care of and made better. But there was no choice. I was going to Spain and explore a new country with my mother, sick or not.

In Spain the sick continued to a certain extent, but I think the sheer fact that I was too distracted by the tasks and experiences of travel and exploration that it got pushed to the back of my mind and body. Mom and I met up at our pension in Sevilla a bit worse for ware, but still wanting to get out and explore. Navigating the airport transpers, especially in Madrid after hours on a plane and no sleep, mom was a bit shaken but still a trooper that wanted to get out there and check things out. I was still being cautious with food, but mom enjoyed some tapas and a glass of good wine - definitely the right start. The next morning we woke and explored the city a bit before getting on a bus to Cadiz where a friend's friend was meeting us and setting us up with an apartment for the week. The Sevilla Cathedral was absolutely stunning in the sunrise. The bells were ringing at 10am while locals were walking through the Cathedral Plaza on their way to work. All I could think about was how amazing it would be to have this walk be a part of your every morning routine!

With bus tickets in hand, sun in the sky and a desire for the beach in our hearts, mom and I and my little bug boarded the bus in search of Juan Carlos, our home for the week and a bit of sand.

New Events Unfolding

Wow, go away for two weeks and all sorts of things start to happen. There are so many news links that I wish I would have been posting to keep up on things that have been happening that I am only getting now that I'm back in Pristina. This place is not on the top of the CNN news desk as it once was, so you have to do a bit of digging to find Kosovo in the headlines. With what is going on here, though, there is a good chance some of the blows might catch some international attention,

Last week, the UN Special Envoy here in Kosovo, Martti Ahtisaari, presented a "plan" for the future status of Kosovo that people around here have been waiting for. In classic diplomatic fashion, he unvelied a plan that moves Kosovo closer to independence, yet nowhere uses the word "independence" and includes more delays and postpnements of any real decision being made.

And, of course, even this watered-down decision sets off both the Albanians and the Serbs into demonstrating and protesting. For the latter it's too close to independence and they openly refuse at all costs to allow a Kosovo independence. For the former, there is a group of extremests that will settle for nothing less. An Albanian independence movement called "Self-Determination" had the entire city of Pristina under lock-down yesterday because of a protest rally they were holding. In the past, when this group gathers, UN cars and HQ buildings become targets of rock and paint ball battering (Photo is from a rally held in November, 2006). A couple of us that live in the city center went up the hill to a friend's house to get ourselves away from the action. Just like every UN employee around here, she had a special radio that periodically announced updates in street closings and advisories of no movement in the center of town. Blood was shed, tear gas was used and ambulances were called throughout the day that ended in two deaths. This hard-line movement is small, but definitely loud with their view of NO NEGOTIATION which they graffiti on buildings, traffic lights and bill boards all over the city.

The Serbs here in Kosovo aren't ofetn heard. There aren't enough of them and they are surrounded by too many Albanians that will knowk their dorrs down if they say too much. But those in northern Kosovo and Belgrade make it known that the word "independence" is the match to light the fuse. There is NO WAY they will accept a copletely independent state of Kosovo. Ahtisaari's latest decision gives Kosovo "statehood" allowing them seats in international communities, a constitution, a flag and some other symbols of "independence" yet refused to use the word. Under this statehood, the Serb communities in Kosovo - ammounding to about 30% of the territory's area - will still be under the finger of Serbia. This is a compromise that might appease Belgrade, but also one that seems to not help these people much at all. Just seems to almost imprison them in a government that refuses to allow them to integrate in any way so as to continue to isolate them from their Albanian neighbors which could potentially welcome them, if I dare say that.

Then there is the issue of what implications independence might have on the rest of the region. Russia in particular is very much against the UN declaring any sort of kosovo independence,
http://www.tiraspoltimes.com/node/565
Putin, who has been the one voice among the "Big Six" involved in Kosovo negociations that does not support independence for the reasons of the precidence is will give for other territories in the state of flux in Europe/Euroasia, believes that no decision can be imposed, on either side. He feels if either Albanians or Serbs aren't happy with decisions made by the UN/EU communities, they should not be inforced. He sees it as playing God in the lives of the people here and that they should come to a conclusion on their own Well, good luck with that Mr. Putin. These people haven't been able to agree on the refreshment tray during their meetings for at least the past 8 years. We will all be long gone to greener pastures before any agreement is made between Serbia and Albanian Kosovo. No one is going to be happy at the end of these negotiations finally arrives, which means the reality of an end is not in sight.

On Monday I'm going to see my students for the first time in a month. After the holidays and all of these status commotion going on, do I dare ask them, "So what's been going on since I saw you last?" The US Office fears that status negotiations could rock the boat too much with these classes and we might lose some students. It's going to be a touchy point for quite a whiel actually. This is not going to go away and I'm not sure how long they will go without having words to say about it.

One more link of many recent news articles about what is happening here. Two have died now, which I fear is a taste of what is to come.
http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2007/02/11/AR2007021100283.html

Giving Grades

Giving grades in this place is an absolutely unbelievable experience. Any procedure or rule or policy you ever had at whatever university you went to would be broken here. There is absolutely nothing consistent or normal or morally right about giving or receiving grades at the University of Prishtina. I actually felt bad for being fair, if that's possible. And after pissing off a few students and having to say NO more times than anyone should be asked to, a few of them took me out for a coffee to thank me for a great semester. Does this make any sense at all?!

Normal to me - Classes end on a given date. For the following week students take final exams for all classes with one or two exams each day. Exam schedule of dates and times are determined by the administration and recognized institution-wide.
Normal for the University of Prishtina - Teachers stop giving lectures on a given date. The next month is reserved for final exams. Dates and time of exams are determined by consensus of teacher and students during the last lecture of the semester. Location often has to be determined at exam time depending on room availability.

Normal to me - Final grades are determined by calculating criteria set at the beginning of the semester by the professor, often including attendance, homework, projects and tests and the final exam being an additional percentage of the total grade.
Normal for the University of Prishtina - The above is true with an added percentage seemingly considered for how hard the student pleads or how good the student's sob story is for why they need or deserve a higher grade. "I live in Skopje (a town 90 minutes away that is in another country) and it was too hard for me to get here for the lectures." Or literally 10 minutes of a student staring at you saying, "This C isn't good enough, I need a B. You'll be nice and give me that, right?"

Normal to me - a low passing grade is better than an incomplete.
Normal to the University of Prishtina - A student would rather have no grade for a class than receive a C. This way, they can come back the next semester, take the exam again and hopefully earn a higher grade.
(to be explained further down . . .)

Normal to me - Transcripts
Normal to the University of Prishtina - Indexes which are small blue books that look like passports with pages on which professors write final grades and give signatures. One signature is given for the fact that the student actually sat for the class and another is given for the final grade.

Normal to me - The final exam is given once at the end of the semester with a grade and credit given and placed permanently on the student's transcript before the next semester begins.
Normal to the University of Prishtina - If a professor determines that a student earned a C based on grading criteria, the student can choose to pass on that grade, as stated above, and take a final exam for the same course at the end of the next semester. The student then has the right to take the second exam grade as their final grade for the course if it is higher than the grade determined the previous semester. Yes, the professor is obligated to offer the exam the next semester even if he/she did not teach the course during the second semester.

Normal to me - It is not possible for a professor to give you a grade for a course that overrides a lower grade given by another professor for the same course in an earlier semester.
Normal to the University of Prishtina - After sitting and participating in a course and earning an A, a student can go to the professor and ask him/her to record the A, allowing the student to cross out the B a different professor gave for the same course during a previous semester.

Normal for me - You must actually receive a grade/credit in order to pass from one level of a course to the next.
Normal for the University of Prishtina - As long as you receive the signature stating you sat for the class you can progress to the next level. The signature for the final grade can be acquired at a later date.

I'm still trying to make sense of it all. Even though I will most likely never teach a class there again, I know I have not heard the last of the University of Prishtina. You can guarantee that come April when the next semester ends, I will have students stopping me in the street asking me to sign their index or give them another final exam so they can get the credit for a course they never even took. Makes the New York school system look like they've got their shit together!

The end of 2006

It was the last sunset of 2006 and I was in Tel Aviv, Israel. "Don't ride the buses," and "Are you Jewish," were most of the responses I got when I told people I was going to spend the New Year in the always conflicted Holy Land. I had been to Jerusalem over 10 years ago on my abroad trip through St. Olaf. An old city where the three converging religions all have an obvious historical presence. From the wailing wall to the moaning mosks and sacred churches marking the steps of Jesus Christ, Jerusalem holds a story for three faiths with a history of disagreement and violence. Tel Aviv, on the other hand, represents the Israel of today with its modern buildings, buses and stores.

Then it was off to Bansko, Bulgaria for a ski weekend with 4 other friends. Along with Romania, Bulgaria has been a member of the EU now for 11 days! Quite the exciting event for all of them and it showed. Crossing the boarder, the blue EU banner with yellow stars - didn't actually count to see if 2 new stars were depicted - were waving everywhere. The signs of communism were still apparent, especially with the 6000 Russian touring skiers being bussed in. But the freshness of a new beginning with the EU could be felt.

And now it's Kosovo's turn . . . or so think some. The status of this place that was supposed to be determined by the end of 2006 has been postponed until after elections to be held in Serbia this month. And then there are proposals, presentations, votes and more talks that have to happen. The native Albanians are getting restless and I can't blame them. I knew politics was always a bunch of rhetoric, but now I'm having beers with some of those doing the talking and realizing that it is literally all talk and diplomacy. As long as you sound good saying what everyone wants to hear, your actual actions aren't all that important. The native Serbians, on the other hand, are beginning to admit defeat. There are so few of them and this problem has been going on for so long that you'd think those left would just say, "here, take it. we'll just move to Serbia." More difficult things have been done. But for some reason it's not that easy. The history of claiming an area as belonging to an ethnic group - that's the Balkans, and it won't change easily.

2006 brought the change I needed. Let's hope it brings to Kosovo the change these people need.

Multi-ethnic holiday party

What do you get when you bring a Serbian Orthodox priest, an American soldier, Christian and Mulsim kids and an Albanian Muslim Santa Clause together around a Christmas tree? A lot of good laughs!! One of the extra projects that was placed in my lap when I got here was to plan a multi-ethnic holiday party for 8-12 year-old Albanian, Serbian, Roma and Egyptian kids from Prishtina and surrounding areas. I was told everything my predecessor did, how great it was, how much money she raised, how many volunteers she had and how great everyone felt about it. The pressure was on to make it as good as it was in the past, yet I had no idea how to go about any of it. It took up until two weeks ago for anyone to shed any light on how to organize this. So with some last minute adrenaline, a lot of help from volunteers and the wise insight of Naim a.k.a. Santa Clause, we were able to pull it off.

US KFOR donated some school bags and transported a bunch of kids. After several emails and meetings with the American and Kosovo Chambers of Commerce, I was able to get donations of food, drink, school supplies and money in order to buy supplies for crafts. The volunteers at the American Center worked their behinds off cutting out ornaments, painting materials for picture frames and actually printing out the pictures the night of the party so the kids could take their photo with Santa Clause home with them. So the kids arrived, made their picture frames, sang some songs, ate some pizza and sat with Santa. On their way out they were each given a backpack full of pencils, pens, scissors and rulers and left with huge smiles on their faces.

The whole process of planning this event was about as stressful as any event planning experience I've had. I somehow find myself with these tasks while never really asking for them. But after all the headaches, it was of course worth it. It usually is. I mean, look at that picture!!!

Ultimate Mission in Kosovo

Thank God I found Ultimate Frisbee. Not only has it introduced me to an extremely fun past-time, it has introduced me to a wonerful group of good friends and an even better activity than bowling to bring people together. So when thinking of something to top the day of bowling with my Serbian and Albian high school kids, Ultimate was a logical answer. Someone suggested getting these 40 kids together to play soccer, which I shot down immediately. Of course they all know and love the game. Some of them live and breath it, which is exactly why I didn't want it to be the vehicle for peace here. Because some of these kids take the sport so seriously, it would automatically open the flood gates of competation and hot heads. Like bowling, Ultimate is a game where everyone can be equally crap, start from the bottem and figure it out together. As far as I'm concerned, that's exactly the kind of experience these kids need to have with each other.

So the field was reserved, the kids were transported and the games began. With the help of six Ultie friends and a December sun bringing the temperature to about 50 degrees, coaching 40 kids how to throw, catch and play the game by the rules all worked out perfectly. For about 20 minutes the coaches took the kids through drills as if they were coaching these teams for the World Cup of Ultimate. It was beautiful! These kids were naturals and had a blast. I saw them work the Frisbee up the field together, cheer each other on, laugh at their mistakes and congratulate good plays. "Good game, Teacher," was said by most of them and they all wondered when we could do it again.

This past week I went from teaching just one group of these kids to teaching two. It looks as though teaching high school kids remains in the cards for me. This whole ACCESS outreach project is for two-years. I'm the teacher starting it here in Kosovo and I'm finding myself getting to a point of wanting to be the teacher to close it as well. These kids are just starting to get to know something and people they have likely grown up being afraid of. They they've volunteered to open the doors and explore. We've just started it all and I'd hate to think about them finishing without me. From Ultimate Frisbee to dinners at each other's homes? We'll see and hope.

Good-bye

Gave my first Kosovo farewell today. In a crowd of internationals working for government organizations, good-byes rank up there with death and taxes on the list of inevitables - actually, higher than taxes since most of those living abroad manage to avoid them. Thor, the big Scandinavian teddy bear, was the first person I met here. On my first night in my apartment he called me to see if I needed help with any settling in issues. The St. Olaf connection bound us together immediately. Because of Thor, my first two-and-a-half months in Kosovo have been full of things to do and a crowd of people with whom to do them.

In this past week leading up to Thor's departure, I've been very aware of the fact that adjusting to this place has been extremely easy. Theories of culture shock say that you will most likely have a downward mood swing early in your time abroad, once the initial thrill of being in a foreign country has worn down. Aside from maybe my first week here when I wasn't working much, a night has not gone by where I was sitting home alone wishing I had someone to call or a reason to go outside. Thor and his Thor-ganizing of events, dinners, Frisbee games and road trips saved me from the feelings of homesickness and loneliness of living abroad.

Three of us met at Thor's place at 5:30 this morning to escort him to the airport. He has been saying good-bye for the past week and has shed his share of tears for the three-and-a-half years of energy and emotion he's put into his job and his friendships here. He has been a literal social and professional icon here for a long time. He's leaving quite a bit and there are several people who have been with him through the best and the worst. He's lived in a lot of places and said a lot of good-byes and knows that he will see again those that matter because of the past they all share. I feel a bit of a void without him here. Probably leaves some room for the loneliness to finally set in. I'm about due, I guess. In the mean time, I'm counting on Olaf to be the tie that holds me to Thor. I just might be seeing his Nordic face strolling on The Hill some day.

Universal Message

We didn't get Thanksgiving Day off. The day is one of many American traditions that everyone around here knows from the movies but doesn't recognize. Regardless of the lack of awareness of those around me, I was determined to spread the message of the day to all I encountered. The more I'm away from family for the big holidays the more I find my own meaning for them. They are more than big meals, football and leftovers. When you don't have those familiar things available to you, you have no choice but to find something else meaningful in it all.

The night of the US elections a friend asked me if I'd help him cook a Thanksgiving dinner for a bunch of the Frisbee friends. Getting my hands into the making of a Thanksgiving meal can be so much fun to me, I of course said I would love to help. For the entire week leading up to the day the two of us took trips to Bondsteel, the French, German, Italian and Danish KFOR bases and their PX stores buying turkeys, frozen pies, wine, Stove Top Stuffing and looking high and low for cranberries and canned pumpkin. For that which we were not successful, we were able to improvise and find local modifications. Some angel was watching and brought a donation of canned pumpkin to me from London that wasn't being used by anyone else. Saved me from having to cut up and cook an entire pumpkin. The turkeys available were frozen mini Butterballs. Our guest list became over 15 and we decided we would definitely need two of them. Seeing as two turkeys do NOT fit into an oven at the same time, we were up until 2 AM cooking the first one Wednesday night after Frisbee. It required a call to Grandma Helen for some tips and in the end bird #1 was a good test. We knew what to do to make #2 better.

For my class that day, I explained a little bit about the holiday and how it began. Pilgrims, Mayflower, religions persecution, difficult winter in the new world, native Americans helping out, and a final feast of thanks. I made a point of telling them that what was historically a celebration with religions intent, centuries later has evolved into a holiday celebrated in the US by every race, religion and nationality. Every culture that has immigrated to the country has created their own tradition around the day that has been set aside to recognize all of the things in our lives we are fortunate to have. The kids went on to make lists of the things they were thankful for. From family, friends and teachers to electricity, socks and the USA. Without the meal and without the TV on, these Serbian and Albanian kids got the message. We all have reasons to be thankful.

The rest of the afternoon was spent listening to music, cutting veggies and smelling the second turkey roasting to perfection with my cooking partner in crime. We had a blast preparing it all. And the icing on the cake was the Australian guest asking what a parsnip was, how you make stuffing and marveling at how pumpkin could taste so good. I've been here for two months now, and cannot begin to explain how thankful I am to have been able to spend the day doing something I love doing with people that I'm lucky to share a great day with. One more of so many things in my life to be thankful for!

Show me the money

Was on my way out of town with a friend and we got stick in horrendous traffic. We could see fireworks in the distance and wondered what the occasion was and why we weren't invited. Turns out it was the grand opening of a new shopping mall. A fancy 3 floor clothing store on the edge of town and it was PACKED!!! And the cars parked outside weren't your lowly 15 year-old VW Golfs. Brand new Audis, MBWs and Mercedes were prevalent. And just like the other shopping centers like it, inside are Polo sweaters, 7 Jeans, Esprit bags and jackets along with other expensive western brands. Ironically, not but a few hours earlier a student of mine was making a joke about how prime time TV in Kosovo is 7 - 9 AM because no one has a job to go to in the morning.

Every time I encounter this mysterious phenomenon of apparent consumerism with peaking unemployment statistics, I have to ask and try to make sense of it. Three answers prevail. At the end of the 90s when Albanians were being run out by Milosovic and the Serbs, a lot of them sought asylum in Europe and the states. They got jobs there that paid better than anything they could get here, and have never come back. Instead, their foreign incomes come back to feed their families and generally support the local economy. Another more obvious but less complete answer is how much the international organizations here employ the locals, which is true to a certain extent. However, the percentage of Kosovar Albanians that have the education and language skills to nab jobs in these organizations is extremely small.

The third, and maybe the answer that applies to most is that the affluence seen here has a lot to do with the local Mafia whom historically, the US has supported. I have a hunch this mob culture spreads out across this entire country. Organized crime culture is a way of life that has existed here for a long time and has proven to be a viable means of survival. As a result it permeates. Even if one is not involved directly with mob activity, the family and doing whatever means necessary to protect the family is the bottom line to people here. There is an unwritten code - the Code of Dukajini - which states that if an individual from one family kills a member of your family, you have every right to retaliate on any member of the murdering family with murder, regardless of who was actually holding the smoking gun, so to speak. Every one of your actions is seen as an action done by the family. The code goes back in Albanian culture for years, having nothing to do with relationships with Serbia or any other neighbor. And when money is concerned, every penny one makes is a penny for the family. They are all in it together.

The picture above is of a Kula - a structure built to protect one family from a neighboring feuding family. There is even a room isolated and removed from the rest with a wood-burning stove - the only one in the house. Women were not allowed in this room. It was for the men only, to hide out from whoever wanted to kill them on any given day. These places are now turned into bed and breakfast places and often visited by internationals for a bit of culture. that's why I got the picture.

Feels like I bring up this topic over and over again, but I can't help it. Day after day questions I ask about the dichotomies that exist here give me the same answers. Illegal, corruption, Mafia, laundering, revenge. The US and NATO came here to save the Albanians from ethnic cleansing done by Serbs. Then, according to others, the US helped Albanian terrorists perform their own form of ethnic cleansing on the Serbs. And clearly, cultural norms that existed well before any international organization even looked at the area have a huge influence on the efforts toward independence that are being made here.

Needless to say, I go into these shopping centers and give them my business. It's a setting familiar to us internationals and we like being there. And, I have to admit my I got a bit of the New York City China Town rush when I looked at the price of those jeans that would have sold for $180 at Macy's and saw that here they were no more than $30. They don't have to be as covert here as they do in China Town. There really isn't anyone here to bust them for selling fraudulent goods. So, they build their shiny malls with bright lights and big windows showing that someone here has money,

The Military

They are here in all different forms, from all different countries, each country claiming it's own territory of the province to look after. They are few, they are definitely proud, and this weekend the 6 US Marines in Kosovo held their annual Birthday Ball. You've got to know someone to get tickets for the thing at the cost of 30 Euro. The Frisbee team network proved fruitful in the search, so myself and 4 other ladies equally intrigued by men in uniform snagged ourselves seats.

A cab took us to a hotel just outside of town where we were greeted by the soldiers. So polite and obviously happy to meet five new ladies. They took our coats and we entered to the bar area where the servers were walking with trays of cheese and meats, fruit juice and shots of vodka and whiskey. A sign of what was to come, no doubt. For the next hour the space filled with women in proper ball gowns, men in uniform and tuxedos along with military men and women in the camouflage fatigues. Into our second drink, Laura and I mustered up the courage to break from the Frisbee contingent and mingle with the others. Clearly the military men had not seen women in civilian clothes in quite a while. They are confined to their base for the most part - Bondsteel - and rarely get out to experience life in P'tina. They might have every US comfort at their fingertips - Doritos and Twinkees at the PX - but by no means do they have a chance to have a normal life. Clearly by the name the base is quite secure. People like us can only get on with a military escort. Well, needless to say we had quite a few invitations by the end of the night. From what I've heard about the PAX, I might be able to get my hands on those baking supplies before Christmas after all!

After cocktail hour, we moved up to the dining room and sat down for the ceremony. This is where the Marines showed their stuff with their marching, calling out, rifle handling and cake cutting. Yes, the major part of the ceremony was the cutting of the cake with a sword and feeding it to the oldest marine in the room. He in turn handed the first piece of cake over to the youngest marine in the room. I, the American, along with the Brit, Canadian, Irish and Swiss women with me found it a bit strange that a cake was the center of the ceremony, but I guess it was a birthday celebration.

After the ceremony, we were fed chicken or beef, bottles of wine and some good laughs with the other guests at our table. They were all Americans either working for the US Mission or US SivPol, the international police force here. Then, in typical wedding reception form, the DJ started spinning the tunes and the dance floor lit up. After dancing the night away with the marines - not one taller than 5' 8" and no older than 24 - we grabbed our souvenir wine glasses and headed back to town. Definitely an experience worth having.
Dress - $30
Shoes - $20
Hairdo - $4
Dancing with 6 marines in full uniform - Priceless!!!

Corruption

This article reiterates a bit things that have been said in conversations I've had with some Albanian colleagues here. The purpose and effectiveness of the international community here has been lost, they say. corruption prevails and those whose job it is to enforce the law haven't taken steps some think is necessary to stop the deep-seeded corruption that seems to be a part of the cultur here. These colleagues of mine are afraid of what will happen with independence is granted and the presence of the international community lessens. Many are not all that confident that Kosovo can sustain an economy, governemnt and legal system that will be for the good of the people living here.

Elections

They needed two days to do it because history has shown that Serbs are a bit apathetic politically. So the last Saturday and Sunday of October were slated to be polling days. Serbs voted as to whether or not their country should adopt the first constitution ratified since the Milosovic era. Liberals in Kosovo protested the constitution saying it was creted in haste, yet Serbian political leaders from all parties supported it. The major controversy surrounding it regarded it's preamble which declared Kosovo an integral part of the country of Serbia. In the mean time, Kosovo Albanians were not invited to participate in the voting weekend.

Any international working for the UN, US Office, EU or other international organization leading this place into a final status says that this constitution will have nothing to do with the status talks happening here. It's primarily a desperate attempt at a final attack before Serbia loses Kosovo. The desperation became clear when, in the final hours of the election, it seemed as though a majority of the people in Serbia - what was needed to participate in the voting in order for the results to be valid - were not going to the polling booths. But somehow there was a fina surge that pushed the number over the top. Voter turn-out was 53.3% and 96% of the ballots were "yes" votes. Most of what I read states what the typical skeptic would think. People without valid ID were allowed to vote, entire families voted together, multiple voting was not monitered. You can't help but wonder what measured desperate minds took in order to manipulate the results in their favor. Voter turn-out of the Kosovar Serbs was the highest among any Serbian region - well over 80%. These people need all the protection they can get, and it seems as though they believe that remaining a part of Serbia will get it for them. Check out these links for more details.

http://www.businessday.co.za/articles/world.aspx?ID=BD4A306103
http://www.examiner.com/a-369313~Serb_Vote_Reasserts_Claim_Over_Kosovo.html?cid=rss-World

As far as I'm concerned, all the Serbs and Albanians need is a weekend of bowling together. Forget elections, status and corruption for a weekend, strap on flourescent orange and green shoes, pick up a pink ball and roll that sucker down the alley. No one is good at this game, making it instantly humbling. And if you are good, no one else really cares because they are all having too much fun being bad at it. With music playing and a warm beer in your hand, the tension lifts, everyone laughs and the disco lights throw shadows over all things bad. It worked with 16 of my Serbian and Albanian students last week. Why can't it work with a country of politicians?!

Greek gluttony

We were going to Greece-land and no one was going to stop us. Hazel and Adria got the car and picked me up 5 minutes after my class at KIJAC ended. We were on the road heading south by early afternoon before the hoards of other internationals got off work to flee good ol' P'tina for the long weekend that marked the end of Ramadan. Hazel has made this trip several times during her 5 years in Kosovo and Adria and I were glad to be passengers in our little rented Opal. It was an easy border crossing into Macedonia for the three-hour drive around Skopje and down to the Greek border. From there is was another hour to Greece's second largest city of Thessaloniki. Winding around mountains and coming down to nightfall over the Ionian Sea and the sparkling city was just what these three English teachers needed. We found our hotel and headed for the water.

Dinner the first night, as with all three nithgt, was full of feta cheese, cucumber and tomato salads, grilled vegetables, meats and seafood and red wine. It was the off season, so places were not very full. At each restaurant we were the center of attention with a flirtations Greek man waiting on us hand and foot. We stuffed ourselves with the manna realizing that our gluttony was actually pretty darn healthy. Keep on eating!!! So, while we sat, ate, drank and people watched the evenings away, we shopped the days away. The city center of Thess was a lot like 5th Ave. in Manhattan with store upon store lining the streets. We couldn't afford most of it, but definitely splurged when our frugal teacher minds were able to let go for a second. I was damned if I could find a pair of shoes that fit my feet! This problem in Japan made sense, but I thought Europe would be able to supply me with female footwear. No such luck.

Everything was closed on Sunday so we rolled out of our sea-side hotel and walked the shoreline hopping from one cafe to the next. The outdoor cafes are clearly typical of the whole Balkan region. I could not help but find the atmosphere of these cafes exact duplicates of Astoria, Queens. I must have said to my companions a thousand times how much of this place reminded me of my old neighborhood. I was always wondering how the cafes of Astoria could be completely full of people drinking coffee all day and night. In Queens that seemed strange to my non-Greek self. In Thess it was the way to live. As the sun went down the coffee was replaced by wine and ouzo a la Cavo on 31st Ave and 45th St.

The drive home seemed long. We dropped Adria off in Prizren via the Kosovo mountains which were blanketed in the fall rainbow. As the sun fell behind, it was all in flames with reds, yellows and oranges. Hazel and I said good-bye to Adria and headed for the road to Prishtina finding it was completely torn up! The arrow pointed right so naturally we followed it looking for the next arrow. The road became more of a bumpy dirt field that seemed to be going nowhere. We followed the car in front of us that seemed equally lost. For 20 minutes we bobbed up and down like boats going through hurricane waters. Who the hell created this detour?! And there was clearly no other way to go! We were tired, hungry and really pissed off at this point. Thank God it was not raining or we would for sure have capsized and sunk into a sea of mud.

But we made it back a little pit poorer, a little bit heavier and a little bit happier from our time in Thessaloniki, Greece. Check out the link to Wikipedia, which I never saw until 5 minutes ago. Knowing the history of the place was not a priority before I left for this long weekend. What I was looking for was thoughtless touring, shopping and eating. Mission accomplished!!!