Albania's History

I thought the best introduction I could provide about Albania is to talk about its past. I will talk a little bit about the distant past – such as the Greek, Roman and Ottoman empire, but mostly about the country’s recent past of Communism and its lasting effects on the country today.

For those of you who are not familiar with Albania, it is in South-Eastern Europe in the Balkans, on the Adriatic and Ionian Sea across from Italy, and directly above Greece. Albanians today are related to the old Illyrian tribes, and Albanian territory at some point has been controlled by the Illyrians, Romans, Venetians, Slavs, Ottomans, Germans, Modern Italians, and finally after World War II it became the country it is now. The Albanian nation does not only extend to Albania though, but there are high populations in neighboring countries such as in the city of Ulqin in Montenegro, Tetovo in Eastern Macedonia, and in Kosovo. The country’s borders were only determined in 1912, when its neighboring countries were already established. Thus, Albania had to negotiate with all of the countries in order to obtain its land today. This leads to large Albanian populations living outside of its own country, because the division of land never goes by population anywhere – it is always about each country wanting as much territory as possible.

In Albanian there are many remnants of its past – it is easy to drive down the “highway” and see far off castles on hilltops that were built in the early centuries AD. There is a popular site of ruins, Butrinti, dating back to before the 4^th Century BC. It is a country where you can really feel and experience some of its past, and I like that about the country. Albania is extremely proud about its Illyrian past, and how they existed as a separate population among great nations like the Romans.

In my opinion though the history gets more interesting as it goes on; in the middle of the 14^th century, the Ottoman Empire came and conquered the land, making it part of their empire. The Ottoman influence explains why 70% of the country is Muslim today, and the old Venetian influence explains why in Northern Albania there are also many Catholics. The various invaders each left part of their culture behind, which makes Albania extremely diverse and unlike its neighboring nations.

The problem with the Ottoman Empire led to the creation of Albania’s national hero – Skanderberg or Skanderbeu, in English and Albanian. Skanderbeu (I will use the Albanian name), attempted to reunite all Albanian territory in the middle of the 15^th After Skanderbeu’s death in the 1460’s, the Ottomans regained power of Albania, and ruled over this area until the 1900’s. Century and to salvage his nation from the Turks. He was not Muslim, and he stood for his own Christian religion, and to stand separate from the Ottoman Empire. He was one of the first people to attempt to unite an entire Albanian empire; prior to Skanderbeu, Albania was many smaller clans and individual empires.

After World War I, a man declared himself as King and tried to establish a monarchy, however King Zog was quickly defeated by the Italians, who conquered Albania. Much of the present day architecture and lay out of the streets in Tirana is thanks to their planning and architecture. However, after World War II, Italy relinquished its power over Albania, and Albania was finally its own country and left to itself.

I would think that this would be positive – however as soon as this happened, Enver Hoxha emerged as a brutal Communist dictator. Our guide Ilir refers to him constantly as “our dictator,” as if he is even afraid to speak his name. Many people do not know about Albania’s Communist past – perhaps that is because Albania was one of the most secluded countries to exist. At first Hoxha modeled itself after Russia – and many different kinds of power plants sprouted up named “Stalin Power Plant” or “Lenin Coal Mine,” etc. However, Hoxha soon thought that Russia was too revisionist in its Communist ideals, and he cut ties with Russia. Afterwards Hoxha started to begin relations with Mao in China, and all of the plants that used to be named after Lenin, now were christened after Mao. Just like with Russia though. Hoxha thought Mao did not understand Communism, and parted ways.

During the Communist era, no one was allowed to leave the country, let alone their villages. It was illegal to move from your village to another city, and you had to live where you were registered. The only people that could leave the country were involved with Tourism for the promotion of the state, such as our tour guide, and he was not allowed to speak about the difficulties in Albania when he left. Inside of the country, no one was allowed to own a car, which is perhaps why the roads are in such a dismal state today. The roads were all rocks and gravel and not paved whatsoever.

Clothing and personal style were extremely limited: everyone had to wear the same thing. No one was allowed to wear jeans, and men were not allowed to have beards or long hair. When foreigners came into the country, they had to cut their hair and shave their beards at the border, or they were not allowed inside of the country. Apparently beards are too “western” and are all about fashion, thus they must be a completely evil influence!

Ilir told us many stories about the rigidity of Hoxha’s regime: parents being put in jail for giving their children foreign names, being brutally beaten for talking to foreigners, being imprisoned for accepting a foreign music cassette… It was really surprising because when we hear about strict communist regimes, Albania does not immediately come to mind – at least not for me.

Lake Ohrid, Macedonia

After a wonderful three months, I left Kosovo to start a Balkan adventure with my mom. Our first stop was Lake Ohrid, FYROM/Macedonia. On the way, we stopped in Skopje. The travel agency wanted us to spend a night in Skopje, but since I have already been there and I know it is not the most exciting place in the world, I strongly disagreed and decided we had to change plans. We had a pleasant stop there though and walked around the huge Bazaar, only since it was a Sunday it was virtually empty.

Then we had around a three hour drive to Ohrid, and except for a border guard being very confused about why I spent three months in Kosovo, nothing exciting happened. We arrived at Ohrid at night, so we couldn’t really see anything. We settled into our hotel and went downstairs for dinner. Well since it is not tourist season, the restaurant was completely empty except for us. The waiter explained to us what our food options were, “trout, veal, fish, scallops, chicken..” and I love scallops, and have been craving seafood these past three months, so I jumped at the idea of getting scallops. My mom opted for trout, since our guide told us it was a specialty here and there was a kind of trout that only lived in this lake. Our food arrived and I looked down and saw meat. I was utterly confused – this was definitely not scallops. My mom started laughing and told me that they must have meant veal scallopini, since veal is commonly eaten here. I am not the kind of person to make a fuss and send things back, so I reluctantly ate my veal… it was okay. The food in Macedonia definitely has not been the best.

The next day was great. Ohrid is a small city on Lake Ohrid, which straddles both Macedonia and Albania. The lake itself is very beautiful, and is the number one tourist destination in Macedonia. At first I was bummed out that we came so late in the season – bad weather, some stores are closed…but the positive outcome is that the streets are empty, and we are free to wander around the city without any other tourists nearby. There is a modern part of the city, but there is also an old walled city that sits upon a hill. At the top of the hill there is a castle, which definitely crosses the line between renovation and complete reconstruction of a castle. It is basically brand new and does even resemble an old historic building, but at least it sets an atmosphere and gives us an idea of what the area used to look like.

The best two words to describe Ohrid are ‘little churches.’ The city is full of them! It is really beautiful, we spent a long time looking around little streets, and after every turn, we found a small hidden abandoned church. They are mostly all brick and Orthodox. We only entered a couple of them, since most of them are in very bad condition and are closed. The ones we did enter though have old fresco murals covering the walls. It’s hard to imagine why such a small city would need over twenty churches, but I went with the flow and appreciated them. Afterward, we drove around 20 km (or 12 miles for those of us who don’t understand the metric system), to Sveti Naum church, which sits on the sea. We had to walk past many tourist stalls selling little paintings of religious figures and jars of honey… poor disappointed stall owners, since there were hardly any tourists and they were wasting their time sitting there.

The church for some reason had a lot of peacocks in its garden, that is probably the thing that I will remember most, even though it was a nice church. As great as churches are from an art and historical perspective, after a certain point they can really just all blend together, especially in the case of Ohrid, where the architecture is all practically the same. The peacocks though were hilarious, and our guide could not really understand why they were there. Peacocks are somewhat a religious symbol here, I’ve seen them on some of the iconoclasts, so perhaps that is one of the reasons.

After Sveti Naum, we wandered around the city more, and on our walk back to our hotel, my mom and I were lucky enough to watch the sunset. It was perfect: the sun was setting right next to the old city, and also on Lake Ohrid, so there was a beautiful reflection on the lake. Those of you who know me know that I am absolutely obsessed with taking photos on sunsets. This time I really outdid myself and took over 116. I’ve been trying to narrow them done, and maybe I have around 40 left on my computer. I just can’t say no to them, and there were even swans swimming in the lake in the pink water from the sun. Really, how can you resist?

Ohrid overall was a completely charming city, and I definitely see why so many tourists flock there in the summer. The old streets are adorable, but seem to me more authentic than the white stone streets you see somewhere like Dubrovnik. It is touristy, however since we went in late October we were basically alone in the city. If you are in the Balkans, I would definitely recommend going to this city. It is perhaps not a completely authentic city, at least the old part, as it tries to caters to tourists, it is still a great historic spot because of the plethora of little churches and the picturesque spot on the lake.

Macedonia itself is a pretty confusing country. The Balkans is characterized by ethnic tension, and Macedonia is no exception. Actually, the Albanian community has a large percentage (I think around 25%) of the population, and thus it became the second official language after Macedonian. A lot of neighboring countries lay a claim on Macedonia - there is Albania who claims big cities like Tetovo, Greece who has issue with the technicality of the name because the Macedonian Region extends into Greece and Bulgaria, not just the country Macedonia itself, and Bulgaria. I've had Bulgarians tell me that there is no such thing as a Macedonian - they are all Bulgarians! I did not take this man's word for truth, since Macedonia was in Bulgaria's control for a long time. But that's just the thing here - every modern country was at some time in someone else's control... Just because a country was under someone's control 400 years ago - does that legitimize their claim on it? I think about this and apply it to the US: are we all Brits? I would never call myself British... but our version of nationality is different, and to understand the Balkan idea of it you have to forget what we think of as ethnicity and nationality in the US. It's a long process...but interesting!

Diversity and Equality

I think in my blogs I have seemed very optomistic about Kosovo as a country and about the Kosovar culture. If you haven't noticed that, I am. I really love living here, I love the people, and I love the relaxed style of life. As great as it is to live here, some of the politics and the conservative has been getting to me a little bit.

I'm sure all of you readers know me, I can't really imagine that this blog has reached people that didn't follow my facebook link or my e-mails. Since you know me, you know that I grew up in San Francisco, a liberal paradise in the U.S. Living in San Francisco instilled me with a strong sense of equality, whether it be racial, gender, or sexual preference. Living in Kosovo now, I see all sorts of these equalities completely blurred and turned upside down.

Of course, I've talked about the ethnic tension here between Serbians and Albanians. That is kind of obvious.. at least to me. But what might not be as obvious, is the idea of 'diversity' here and what it means. When I think of diversity, I think of every kind of person imaginable living in a single community. It doesn't necessarily have to be harmonious living, but at least different races, socio-economic backgrounds, etc. Diversity can mean a lot of things. Diversity here is something quite different, if it exists at all. There is little to no religious diversity, with almost every Albanian being Muslim (there are a few Catholics here), and almost every Serbian being Orthodox (there are not many Serbians anyways, at least in Pristina). There is no real racial diversity. There are not even any Serbians in Pristina. If you see someone of African American descent, I can tell that every single person on the street notices this person - and stares. And obviously is a foreigner working for NATO or another foreign government agency. I have only seen two Asian people the whole time I've been here. I constantly have the feeling that everyone is staring at me as I walk down the street because they can tell that I am a foreigner and that I am different. I don't mean staring at me in a negative way, but it is that if you do not fit in and do not conform to some sort of mould, then it is noticed... And that makes me feel a bit awkward.

There is, of course, socio-economic diversity, however it is not as apparent in Pristina as it is other places in the country. As I've said in previous posts, the average income is around 150 Euro a month. A lot of people in Pristina make more than that, purely because it is the capital, and because of the foreign presence in the city, which includes NATO, UN Mission in Kosovo, European Union Mission in Kosovo, European Council, USAID, foreign banks like Raffeisen and ProCredit... just to name a few. They employ some locals, however the local employees do earn less than foreigners. Anyways, since most of these organizations are centered in Pristina, it is natural that this city has the highest income. However, it is once you leave the city that you really feel extreme poverty. In Pristina, there are some beggers, Roma children trying to sell you peanuts or beg for money, however there are not as many as I anticipated before I came here. At night at a cafe, it really does not feel as though most people here only make 150-200 Euro a month. Everyone dresses up and looks nice, orders drinks, stays out late.. it simply does not feel like people are struggling to earn money. I am sure that many of these people are in fact struggling, or are unemployed, however they do not act like it. This makes the diversity feel like there is less than it is in reality.

Now, since I am interning for a women's organization, I am sure you are expecting me to be all feminist about gender equality here - and I will not disappoint you! The unemployment rate for women here is higher than it is for men. The figures that my organization told me is that for men it is around 40%, and for women it is 60%. A lot of the inequality and reasoning for this comes from the cultural stereotypes that it is a woman's job to raise the family. Women here get married very young (rewind to when someone told me I will be too old to get married when I am 24), and especially in villages, women stay home and have children, and a lot of them. Women aren't expected, or encouraged, to find jobs and a steady income outside of their household. There are many cases of domestic violence (that will be a separate blog entry), and women simply cannot do anything about it. The divorce rate is incredibly low, and women often do not get custody of their children after a divorce. Things are changing though, and there is a slow progress. Each generation, like everywhere in the world, becomes more "western" (I don't really love this term, but it certainly applies here), and more "modern" in terms of gender relations. Women here, unlike most Muslim countries, do not cover up, instead they readily expose a lot of skin. More and more women are finding work and providing for their families, thanks to organizations like Women for Women. It is only in many traditional families that these old stereotypes are being held firmly in place. Still, in general, the gender divide exists, and is far from equal.. even in simple things, like when a male friend of mine told me that here a women would never break up with a man she is dating, he always breaks up with her, because a woman's goal is to find a husband and does not want to end in a relationship.

Now, what really motivated me to write this blog is what recently happened in Belgrade. Of course Belgrade is not Kosovo, but I think generally the attitudes in the Balkans towards homosexuality is the same. There was supposed to be a gay-pride march in Belgrade, however it was canceled because there were many threats against the gay marchers, and the government felt as though it could not provide security for the participants. You can read about that here: http://www.balkaninsight.com/en/main/analysis/22369/

Someone in Kosovo then told me that Kosovo was more open-minded, and I thought, well is it? It turns out, not really. The same news agency, Balkan Insight, (which I highly recommend if you want to read about the news here in English), printed a story around the same time about homosexuals in Kosovo: http://www.balkaninsight.com/en/main/analysis/22403/

Soon after I read this, by coincidence one of my male friends here told me he is bisexual. He said he was only telling me and several of his friends because I'm an international, so I won't feel have as a conservative of a view as many locals. He said that if he had told his friends that he was actually gay, and not bisexual, then he would be "lost forever" and there would be no hope for him. He said there was almost no way that he could ever find a partner here because there is almost no gay community to speak of out of fear of discrimination or harm. He does not know any openly gay people, and doubts it will change any time soon. He seemed so sad and hopeless when he told me this, I felt awful. But that's just the culture here, and I guess it is the same in most (or all?) Balkan countries. For some reason, I expected something different of Kosovo, from a country that is fighting hard for its independence and claims to be so open-minded. A country with unparalleled foreign presence and people who desperately want some sort of 'change'. It was silly of me though to have such high expectations. Not everyone though is against homosexuals, like I said I have a bisexual friend, and know other people who have said that they don't think there is anything wrong with homosexuality.. however, it seems the general feeling is strongly homophobic and unaccepting.

Of course, despite all of these things, I still love Kosovo. I have to remind myself that Kosovo is a developing country, meaning it only just got its independence (well, to some), and it is still figuring itself out. I don't think there is a real Kosovar identity yet, everyone calls themselves Albanians or Serbians, not Kosovar. These issues don't really seem to be high on their list, or even on anyone's list. Everyone in Kosovo focuses mainly on the political and independence issues; these issues are critical for Kosovo's future as a nation. However, the diversity and equality problems in Kosovo are very important for me, and I felt as though I needed to highlight them. I also wanted to note that as positive as I sound about Kosovo, there are a lot of issues, many that people don't even care to acknowledge.

Fushe Kosova

Sorry it's been another two weeks! Time passes by here SO quickly, you would not believe it! I actually only have five weeks left here, I'm already a little sad just thinking about it. I actually have really exciting things to blog about! I will have to take things one step at a time though and only blog about one day first.
Last Friday I met some random travelers, an Italian girl, a Turkish guy, a Finish guy, and a Dutch guy. Friday night was fun, but not important, in fact it could probably be a whole other blog entry! Anyways, the Italian girl, Sarah, and the Turkish guy, Avi, said that on Saturday they were planning on going to a small village outside of Fushe Kosova, which is about 20 minutes outside of Pristina. I thought, well I’m not doing anything tomorrow and I have not really been to a village yet except for the graduation, so I should go. So I went!

We met up the next morning and set out on our journey. One important detail here is that Avi had an accordion with him. I am still not exactly sure why he brought it with him everywhere. All I know is that he played it incessantly; every step of the way we had music in the background and it always lingered in the back of my thoughts. After a while, it got quite annoying to say the least.
So we get off the bus and we have no idea where we are, because we know the village is somewhere outside of the small city of Fushe Kosova, but we do not know where. We look for some food, any kind of food really would have been okay, and we soon found some burek. (I am only adding this so you get a sense of what kind of food I eat here.) I am not sure if I mentioned it before, but Burek is a pastry. It is greasy bread on the outside, and either has white cheese or meat on the inside. I usually choose the cheese option; I am not a huge fan of mystery meat. Sarah and Avi decide that they first want to go to the train station because Sarah has this romantic idea of taking the train somewhere the next day. I try to tell her that the trains here anything but romantic and nice, but she insists. We make our way to the station, and it is nearly empty except for a couple of old men sitting at the train station coffee shop talking. This scene is completely typical in Kosova – there are always old men sitting around drinking coffee.

We went outside near the tracks and saw this ten year old girl sitting there by herself. She had really short hair, like a boy cut, which is a little unusual here for girls. Her clothes were a little dirty and you could tell by looking at her that she is Roma and not Albanian. Avi makes it his mission to befriend this little girl and starts talking to her. Obviously she does not speak English, so I laughed at him for his effort. I go over and say ‘My name is Ashley, what’s yours?’ in Albanian, but she just stared at me blankly. It was either because of my horrid accent or because she was too shy, I am still not sure what was the cause. We tried and tried to communicate with her, but she would not say anything at all. She finally took Sarah’s hand and led us somewhere, so we decided to follow.
We walked across the train tracks, and suddenly see a village. The houses look like they are straight out of Borat and there is garbage coating the street. We walk for a while and we realize we’re now lost and do not know where we are, great. Suddenly we see this horse-drawn carriage/trolley coming towards us. I kind of laughed at first, because although it is something so typical to see in villages here, the initial sight of it is always a little surprising. The horse was carrying two men, and the cart behind the horse had piles of old metal wire, plastic containers, and a computer screen monitor with a huge crack through it. The men stopped to try to talk to us. We soon realized that everyone we saw would immediately come and see us because they had no idea what foreigners would ever be doing in their village. I think they were more interested in us than we were in them.

A woman then emerged from one of the little houses and started talking extremely quickly. We all had a confused look on our faces, and then she laughed. We tried to speak to her in every language possible, and then decided what would be best would be a mixture of English, German, and Albanian. Well, it sort of worked. She said her husband was collecting trash all day, and would sell it in a market for 5 Euro. She then invited us inside for coffee.
We walked past the door and her garden was filled with trash. Not necessarily trash like your average daily trash, but junk: old toys, a random shoe, big pieces of metal, things that most people would throw away and never think about again. On the right there was a big faucet where water would normally come out, but Sofia (the woman), said “Ska ouji” (I have no idea how to spell this), which means ‘no water’ in Albanian. We had to take off our shoes before entering her house, which is customary here. I am always hesitant when I do this at people’s houses because I’m afraid of either people stealing my shoes or getting weird fungus on my feet. Anyways, it is important to be polite, so I did it. The downfall of this courteous custom is that the inside of many people’s houses smell like feet and it was no different here.

Sofia led us into a room, and it was nearly empty. There were just cushions on the floor and some weird flowers dangling from the ceiling. In the corner there was a TV from the 80’s, and I am pretty sure it didn’t work. I actually have some pictures posted on my website, so maybe it is better to look there. Sofia generously offered us a Red-Bull copy-cat drink called ‘Red Dog’ or something, and it tasted much like red bull. Her rules of hospitality made her keep offering us more, and we kept drinking it to be polite. So the tree of us drank a 2 Liter bottle of energy drink. I realized I really had to stop because we were unlikely to find a bathroom for the rest of the day.

Sofia then asked if she could try to play Avi’s accordion. Then after playing some music, she decided she wanted to teach Sarah and I how to dance, so then Avi played music while a seriously bad attempt at Albanian folk dancing ensued. We settled back down after realizing our attempts at dancing were futile and the conversation turned a little more serious. Sofia talked of her Bulgarian descent, and how she had to immigrate to Kosovo because she did not have legal documents. As Ashkali in Bulgaria, she said she was not considered a real citizen. The war in Kosovo enabled her to come here and become one of the many forgotten minorities. After the war, she said that Kosovo gave documents to all of the minorities, so it was easy for her to obtain documentation for herself and her children. So we talked about a lot with Sofia, but we wanted to go meet even more people, so we politely told her that it was time for us to continue on.

We left her house and thanked her again, and as soon as we left her house, a group of kids came running towards us. They were mostly from around 5-12 years old. They expected us to speak Albanian for some reason, and kept talking, even though I repeatedly said “I don’t speak Albanian” in Albanian. It turns out, being able to say you don’t speak a language really only means that since you can say a couple words, you obviously can say much more. We wandered along the dirt road with a growing number of kids at our heels, and we came upon a little mini-market. The owner came out, and he was a little old-ish man, missing a couple fingers from each hand. We was really friendly though and his English was the best we encountered so far, meaning he could hold a little bit of a conversation, and he asked us if we would take pictures with him in front of his store, as if we were some kind of celebrities. By this time, there were many thirty kids surrounding us, and some of them were teenage boys who knew a little bit of English, but found the situation so hilarious they would only say a couple of words, like asking for our e-mail addresses.

The owner of the store then invited us back to his house for a couple of drinks. We accepted, of course! We walked to his house, which was by far the nicest house in the neighborhood. The first distinction is that it was a real house, and the garbage in front was replaced with beautiful flowers and a nice lawn. I also saw running water out of a fountain. This was a dramatic contrast to Sofia’s house, however it was only a ten-fifteen minute walk away. The man’s very old mother came out to greet us, she was very sweet and nice looking but could not speak any English. The man’s 18 year old son then came out, and he spoke some English since he was at university. Another big difference of this family was education: Sofia’s kids could not afford school, but this man’s kids were all in college. He then offered us some kind of RC Cola, and we sat down on a real couch. They had a big flat screen TV and it was playing the movie “Chasing Liberty” with Mandy Moore – it was so random! The man then started talking to us about what being Ashkali was like; he said Ashkali originally came from Persia over a hundred years ago, but I heard from many people different stories about their origins. In fact, it is hard to trace the exact descent of many Ashkali. He said this small village actually had 5,000 people in it, and there used to be more but during the war many Ashkali left. The conversation we had was interesting, but they were more reserved and less vivacious than Sofia. After a little while, we decided to leave and thanked them.

As soon as we left their house, the scores of kids soon crowded us again. This time, I took out my camera to take a picture. I still cannot decide whether this was a mistake or not, because as soon as I took one picture, each kid individually wanted their own picture taken. They started pushing each other out of the way and fighting over who I would take a picture of next. They were all quite cute though, and I think meeting us was possibly the most exciting thing that has ever happened to them. One girl in particular liked me and walked next to me the whole time and held my hand. I even got her e-mail address and I’ve been meaning to e-mail her the pictures I took. She was so amazed and confused when she saw my eyebrow piercing. Soon they all gathered around and pointed at my eyebrow and touched the piercing then winced at the idea of how painful it must have been to get it pierced. Honestly, it really did not hurt very much, and it was so long ago I do not really remember how it felt. Not that many people in Kosovo in general have piercings though, especially facial piercings, so this was probably the first time little kids in a village ever saw it, and boy were they confused.

The kids followed us for the next hour or so until we found our way back to the train station. I probably took over one hundred pictures of them, but only put some online. It was really cute meeting all of them, and showed me how people who have so little can be so appreciative and generous with what they do have to offer. It was really interesting going into Ashkali homes and seeing the diversity and different situations each of them find themselves in.

I think there is a lot more I can say about this day trip, but I already wrote enough, and congratulations to you if you made it this far! I will hopefully write more sometime soon about my other exciting stories!

Happy Graduation!

For this entry, you need a little bit of background information about what exactly I am doing here. Women for Women International is an organization that helps victims of war with both vocational skill training (dairy farm, planting seedlings, bee keeping, carpentry…) and human rights training (stopping domestic violence, political rights…). WfWI runs a large variety of various training programs all around Kosovo, each one lasting around 6 months, with several different training sessions each week. Most of the women who participate are of the lowest social classes and who have no previous knowledge of how to run a business or how to work. The training is a basic way for many women to learn how to earn money and to manage their earnings. Many of these sessions take place in villages, not just in Pristina.

Anyways, this Thursday was a graduation ceremony for one of the training sessions. The location was outside of Ferizaj, one of the larger cities in Kosovo, around one hour south of Pristina. We drove through Ferizaj on the way to the ceremony, and if you thought Pristina was rough looking then seeing Ferizaj would quickly make Pristina look like a well developed Western European city. The village we went to was just right outside of the city and was made up of mainly Hashakali, an ethnic minority here in Kosovo. Ethnically they are similar to the Roma, but they get along well with Albanians and there isn’t ethnic tension. The village was a stark contrast to the nearby city; there were horses on the street (which I have seen before, but still), and little kids running around in every direction without their parents nearby. When the car turned every corner, we had to honk so all the kids would run away. Each child would stare at us in the car with a curious gaze, like they didn’t know why us strangers were in their village. We had to stop and ask about five different people where to go and where this street was because just as in Pristina the streets were badly marked.

Eventually we arrived at this big house with a little garden in front of it, which is where WfWI trained the women. Several people walk by and peer in through the gate, and once they notice that we see them, they immediately walk away and pretend they did not look in. We arranged a bunch of plastic chairs in the garden, and two young girls came to help us. They only spoke Albanian but I definitely heard the word “America” a couple times when they looked at me. We finally set everything up and it is only 10 AM. They told the women to get there at 10:30, and the actual graduation started at 11. So we just sort of sat around for 30 minutes trying to talk, (I say trying because communication still isn’t great), and women start slowly coming in. At 10:30 there are about 30 women there, and at 10:45, maybe 50. They started to get restless though and started asking when it was going to start. They said they had to go back and take care of their children, had to cook, had to clean, get back to work, and wanted to get the ceremony over with. Well I understand all of their familial responsibilities but it seemed to me that most of these women didn’t care that much about this ceremony that was supposed to be really meaningful to them.

Finally at 11 the officials come so the graduation can start. There was such a funny contrast between us, and the women. The Hashakali have a much darker complexion than most Albanians, so there was an ethnic difference, but also in terms of clothing. We were standing up, some wearing nice dresses or skirts (well, I was sporting some jeans and a shirt) and the women sitting down were wearing old clothing that looked like maybe you found it in Goodwill. Most of the women too were pregnant or had their children with them, and were constantly occupied trying to keep them from misbehaving. One of the officials was a Danish man in his fifties or sixties wearing a very expensive looking suit. The organization that funded this program was Danish and he was in charge of giving the grant money to WfWI, so in part he was responsible for the training sessions. When he came in, all of the women figured he most be important so they all clapped. To me it seemed a little silly, and even though he funded the program, I wondered how much he knew about it and what his real input was. I imagined him thinking in his head about how dirty the surroundings were and about how nice his shoes are, but for all I know he could have been thinking about how happy he was to be there. It was just amusing because he looked completely out of place, more than I do walking around Pristina.

As soon as this Danish man got here, he took out three EU flags, one little one was to stand on the table, and two others were draped on the side of the house. His photographer made sure to take pictures of the poor women in front of the flag; I am sure this photo will go on hundreds of brochure about how the EU is helping women. None of the women really seemed to care about the EU flags, but to me it was just silly propaganda. The money and funding is of course pivotal in funding the training sessions, but it looked a bit like the EU was claiming these women for its own.

So there were a couple of speeches saying the usual, “I’m so happy to be here,” or, “I’m so proud of every graduate,” or “we will come back and run more programs!” Of course I completely agree with the work WfWI is doing here and I don’t mean to make fun of that, but the women didn’t seem to care about the EU at all. At last, the man started calling out women’s names (and butchering the names too) and giving them their certificates. Then all of us who work for WfWI or the EU went out for coffee immediately after to talk about the economy and how to create market growth and other really important things.

All in all, I really enjoyed it. I learned a lot about how you should make your sponsor take credit for your work, about how when you do something good you should make sure to have your flag in the background, but also about what village life looks like (it doesn’t look good, it just looks a bit depressing.) Maybe you guys won’t find this entry very interesting, but I wrote it mostly with my mom in mind. I promise to write something a bit more funny soon.

Lastly, I uploaded a couple pictures to my photo website: http://gallery.me.com/ahongisto/