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!
Showing posts with label foreign. Show all posts
Showing posts with label foreign. Show all posts
Thursday, September 10, 2009
Friday, August 14, 2009
Boom Boom! Bil Klinton!
It's easy to sit in the U.S. and think that every country hates you, there are tons of reasons why: Iraq, globalization, cultural imperalism, George Bush... so sometimes I forget that there are places that still really love the U.S., and that sometimes, the things that we think are evil, like war, can actually make another country love us.
The first time I encountered pro-Americanism (which is actually an understatement!) in Kosovo was my first night. I was at this nice traditional Albanian restaurant and I said something in English to the waiter, and he responded with, "AMERICA???" and at first I thought he was going to say something negative, so I wearily said yes, then he shot back, "I LOVE AMERICA!" and he continued on for ten minutes about how every year he applies for the green card lottery in hopes of moving to the U.S. From this moment on, things just got better and better for me as an American here in Kosovo.
Nearly every time I say I am from the U.S. people look at me in a different, but better way. Eyes light up and people get excited! Almost everyone responds with a story about knowing someone in the U.S., or how they have been there, how they love NYC.. and most often about how much they adore Bil Klinton. Maybe you notice my spelling, which is no mistake at all, but is how his name is written here. There is even a Bil Klinton Avenue which is the main street leading into the city from the airport. My first night I was driving down it and looked up to see a huge three story tall photo of Bil Klinton staring down at me -- they have him plastered on buildings so everyone can see him! It's crazy.
In case you don't know why everyone loves Bil Klinton (I don't blame you, it involves a little history lesson), was that Kosovo was a part of Serbia, and Kosovars were very oppressed. Many people did not go to school because the official language was serbian and you were not allowed to speak Albanian (which most people speak here.) Kosovo has two main ethnicities: Kosovar-Albanians and Kosovar-Serbs. There are some minorities such as Roma, Ashkali, and Egyptians, but they do not make up a large part of the population, so when you talk about Kosovo, you talk about Albanians versus Serbians. Anyways, the Kosovo War ended in 1999 when NATO, led by BIL KLINTON (!!!!) bombed Belgrade until Serbia withdrew its military forces from Kosovo. During the war, thousands of people fled Kosovo to neighboring countries or other European countries (you see hundreds of cars here from Germany and Sweden and Switzerland - all refugees), and many people that stayed here died or lived in very poor conditions. Everyone here has a war story, whether it is about fleeing, nearby buildings getting bombed, having to walk by serbian tanks so they don't get bombed for months, or knowing someone who disappeared... Well all of this ended because of the famous Bil Klinton and because of the bombing of Belgrade.
My favorite Bil Klinton story so far happened just last weekend. I was with a Dutch guy named Just and we went to see the oldest Mosque here, which is currently under renovation. There is a sign outside of it in Albanian which says 'do not enter' but we entered anyways and pretended we didn't know what it said. Outside of the mosque there is a large water fountain with seats by it, with water constantly flowing, and little metal cups tied to the fountain. We saw an old man sitting there wearing a traditional Albanian wool cap. He turned around when he saw us and motioned for us to come over there. He filled up one of the cups with water and kept giving it to Just to drink. He would drink it, and then the old man would fill it up again and it would just keep going. I think maybe it's only for men because I wasn't offered any water. So this old man really doesn't speak any english, but he tries to ask us where we are from and somehow we understand, so Just first answeres Holland, and the guy is a little excited about that and smiles. Then I say "United States" and he goes "AHHH AMEERICA!!!!!" and starts speaking really quickly. I have no idea what he was saying, but I'm sure it's good. Then in the middle of his speech I hear him say "BOOM BOOM! Bil Klinton! BOOM! AMERICA!!" So this was his way of talking about how Bil Klinton bombed Belgrade and that's why he loves the US... at least my interpretation of what he was saying. This man was so nice though and brought us into the mosque, where him and a couple other guys proceeded to laugh because I was in the mosque. One of them spoke english and told me women weren't usually allowed in unless they went to the balcony, but because it was under construction I could go inside. The old man kept on asking me questions about the US, using one of these other men as a translator of sorts, and about where in the US I'm from, etc.. he was super excited.
Anyways, it's great to be in a country that actually likes where you are from. It's a huge change for me. It isn't like everyone hates Americans all across the world, that would be a huge simplification of anti-American sentiment, but I really haven't met anyone here who doesn't love the US. In most Albanian eyes, the US gave them their freedom. We were one of the first countries that recognized Kosovo as an independent nation, and we helped them get there by bombing Serbia. If you know me, you know I am a huge pacifist, I've been to anti-war protests, I strongly disagree with violence... but being here has changed my views a little. NATO's actions allowed Kosovo to become independent and people here truly appreciate that. Going to Serbia, you obviously get another side of the story, and I'm not ignorant to that - I've been to Serbia, met Serbians, and talked with them about the war. I was told that when the US recognized Kosovo as a country, some people vandalized the McDonalds in Belgrade and broke into it, as of course McDonalds represents the US and everything we stand for! (HAHA!)
The moral of this story is that even if you don't know it, you have some support. There are a lot of people here really grateful for our country and our politics. In one of the cities there is even a George Bush street! (Maybe their enthusiasm is a little too much about the US). I hope that people know that far away, in a little country that some people still haven't really heard of, there are people dreaming of coming to the US, and many people still consider you lucky to live there.
The first time I encountered pro-Americanism (which is actually an understatement!) in Kosovo was my first night. I was at this nice traditional Albanian restaurant and I said something in English to the waiter, and he responded with, "AMERICA???" and at first I thought he was going to say something negative, so I wearily said yes, then he shot back, "I LOVE AMERICA!" and he continued on for ten minutes about how every year he applies for the green card lottery in hopes of moving to the U.S. From this moment on, things just got better and better for me as an American here in Kosovo.
Nearly every time I say I am from the U.S. people look at me in a different, but better way. Eyes light up and people get excited! Almost everyone responds with a story about knowing someone in the U.S., or how they have been there, how they love NYC.. and most often about how much they adore Bil Klinton. Maybe you notice my spelling, which is no mistake at all, but is how his name is written here. There is even a Bil Klinton Avenue which is the main street leading into the city from the airport. My first night I was driving down it and looked up to see a huge three story tall photo of Bil Klinton staring down at me -- they have him plastered on buildings so everyone can see him! It's crazy.
In case you don't know why everyone loves Bil Klinton (I don't blame you, it involves a little history lesson), was that Kosovo was a part of Serbia, and Kosovars were very oppressed. Many people did not go to school because the official language was serbian and you were not allowed to speak Albanian (which most people speak here.) Kosovo has two main ethnicities: Kosovar-Albanians and Kosovar-Serbs. There are some minorities such as Roma, Ashkali, and Egyptians, but they do not make up a large part of the population, so when you talk about Kosovo, you talk about Albanians versus Serbians. Anyways, the Kosovo War ended in 1999 when NATO, led by BIL KLINTON (!!!!) bombed Belgrade until Serbia withdrew its military forces from Kosovo. During the war, thousands of people fled Kosovo to neighboring countries or other European countries (you see hundreds of cars here from Germany and Sweden and Switzerland - all refugees), and many people that stayed here died or lived in very poor conditions. Everyone here has a war story, whether it is about fleeing, nearby buildings getting bombed, having to walk by serbian tanks so they don't get bombed for months, or knowing someone who disappeared... Well all of this ended because of the famous Bil Klinton and because of the bombing of Belgrade.
My favorite Bil Klinton story so far happened just last weekend. I was with a Dutch guy named Just and we went to see the oldest Mosque here, which is currently under renovation. There is a sign outside of it in Albanian which says 'do not enter' but we entered anyways and pretended we didn't know what it said. Outside of the mosque there is a large water fountain with seats by it, with water constantly flowing, and little metal cups tied to the fountain. We saw an old man sitting there wearing a traditional Albanian wool cap. He turned around when he saw us and motioned for us to come over there. He filled up one of the cups with water and kept giving it to Just to drink. He would drink it, and then the old man would fill it up again and it would just keep going. I think maybe it's only for men because I wasn't offered any water. So this old man really doesn't speak any english, but he tries to ask us where we are from and somehow we understand, so Just first answeres Holland, and the guy is a little excited about that and smiles. Then I say "United States" and he goes "AHHH AMEERICA!!!!!" and starts speaking really quickly. I have no idea what he was saying, but I'm sure it's good. Then in the middle of his speech I hear him say "BOOM BOOM! Bil Klinton! BOOM! AMERICA!!" So this was his way of talking about how Bil Klinton bombed Belgrade and that's why he loves the US... at least my interpretation of what he was saying. This man was so nice though and brought us into the mosque, where him and a couple other guys proceeded to laugh because I was in the mosque. One of them spoke english and told me women weren't usually allowed in unless they went to the balcony, but because it was under construction I could go inside. The old man kept on asking me questions about the US, using one of these other men as a translator of sorts, and about where in the US I'm from, etc.. he was super excited.
Anyways, it's great to be in a country that actually likes where you are from. It's a huge change for me. It isn't like everyone hates Americans all across the world, that would be a huge simplification of anti-American sentiment, but I really haven't met anyone here who doesn't love the US. In most Albanian eyes, the US gave them their freedom. We were one of the first countries that recognized Kosovo as an independent nation, and we helped them get there by bombing Serbia. If you know me, you know I am a huge pacifist, I've been to anti-war protests, I strongly disagree with violence... but being here has changed my views a little. NATO's actions allowed Kosovo to become independent and people here truly appreciate that. Going to Serbia, you obviously get another side of the story, and I'm not ignorant to that - I've been to Serbia, met Serbians, and talked with them about the war. I was told that when the US recognized Kosovo as a country, some people vandalized the McDonalds in Belgrade and broke into it, as of course McDonalds represents the US and everything we stand for! (HAHA!)
The moral of this story is that even if you don't know it, you have some support. There are a lot of people here really grateful for our country and our politics. In one of the cities there is even a George Bush street! (Maybe their enthusiasm is a little too much about the US). I hope that people know that far away, in a little country that some people still haven't really heard of, there are people dreaming of coming to the US, and many people still consider you lucky to live there.
Saturday, August 8, 2009
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/
Monday, August 3, 2009
Best Friends Forever!
So this was my first officially weekend in Kosova, and it went a million times better than I could have expected! I have been sitting around a lot, being a little sad that I don't know more people and whatnot, but this weekend I met a lot of great people, and made some Albanian friends I'll maybe see again this week or weekend. Here's a quick replay:
Friday, after work, I met up with two Polish girls traveling in Kosovo for a couple of days. We hit it off right away; they were a lot of fun and wanted to have some adventure like me. We made plans for Saturday, and we walked around the city exploring the tiny old town. "Old Town" here isn't actually like you would imagine an old town to be like; there isn't some sort of walled city or cute little charming streets with beautiful marble cobblestone or something. In fact, "old town" just means that's where there are a couple of mosques and maybe two older buildings. Almost all of the old buildings were destroyed by Serbians when they came here, as they tried to erase the older Albanian culture. Furthermore, many old mosques never survived, so they built new ones. We even saw one that had a shopping center at the bottom of it! Ha. Even though 90% of the population is Muslim, you hardly ever see any women with their heads covered except for little old ladies. I can hear the call to prayer though from both my office and my house, but I actually like being able to hear it. The biggest mosque in the city, and the oldest, is under renovation right now, so sadly I couldn't visit it.
Saturday night we were out drinking coffee. Walking around the city, you see more people drinking coffee and juice at cafe/bars rather than beer, even at night. I've tried the local beer, Peja, but when a girl orders beer I always feel like I am being judged a little bit or something. Well, it depends where you go. Anyways, as we were sitting at a table outside, a weird looking teenage guy comes up and tries to sell us peanuts out of a big bucket. I nicely say "no thank you", and as soon as he hears me speak english, he goes "America!" He then forgets about his peanuts completely, and starts telling me about every single family member he has. "My mother's name is Maria and I live with her.. My brother's name is blah blah and he lives next door..." then he moved on to his friends, "I have a great friend from Sierra Leone, do you know where that is?" I say yes, of course, it is on the west coast of Africa, to which he replies "it is in Africa" and again, I say yes, and he goes, "in the west", to which again I say yes, then he goes "the west coast of Africa.." well this continues for a while, because apparently he thought I didn't know anything about geography. Then he keeps talking about fish, and how his friend eats fish all the time.. Well he talked about anything you could ever imagine talking about. I felt kind of badly for him so I just sat there while my friends laughed at me for talking to this kid for so long. Finally a group of people behind us told him, "Hey don't you have work to do?" and the peanut kid looked at them, then looked at me, and kept talking. The guys behind us five minutes later told the kid to leave us alone, and I guess he got the hint, because after twenty minutes or so he shook my hand and left. A good thing did come of this though: the people sitting right behind us started talking to us, and I made my first Albanian friends! (well besides my best friend the peanut kid).
The table of our 6 people, all from Kosova. The two younger guys had moved to Australia 10 years ago, as most people here fled during the war, and they have lived there ever since. This was their first time back in those 10 years, so they spoke english very well and had a weird Aussie/Eastern European english accent. They said Aussie things like "mate" and "heaps" but their english still wasn't perfect obviously. They had their uncle with them, who was maybe fifty, and spoke hardly any english. Two of their cousins who were brother and sister and moved to Germany for 5 years during the war, and another female cousin who had stayed here. They were really nice, and they said they were going to a club and invited us along, so we said why not and went with them. We walk for about 10 minutes and arrive at a place with about three huge clubs right next to each other; it all looks a bit run down and depressing from the outside. We get to the one we were going to, "Club Flirt", where all of the security guards have on shirts that say "Security Flirt" on it. I had a really good laugh about that. We get past the long line, I'm not sure why, and Almire, one of the guys from Australia, says that anyone can go in, people just aren't smart enough to say the right things. I guess he was pretty 'smart'. We get past this little booth where you have to pay to get in, and so the polish girls and I are talking about whether we want to pay or leave, and then Almire says that they already paid for us. Well it was only 2 Euro, but still. We later realized that men here pay for everything, even for people they don't know at all. In fact, it's rude to tell someone not to pay for you, because doing so is an honor, especially if you are a foreigner. They consider you their guest in this country and want to do everything to make you have a great time here. It's really generous but sometimes it's a little much, I don't really want to feel indebted to someone. Anyways, we get into the club, and they are blasting some old-school DMX. Almire turns to me and says, "you'll feel right at home here!" and it was true; throughout the night they played older Black Eyed Peas, Dr. Dre, Snoop Dogg, J.LO (Jenny from the Block!) and some other classic 90's hits. The sad part though was that no one was dancing. If you looked across the room, you see hundreds of young women wearing tons of make up, really tight dresses and five inch high heels. Well I was definitely out of place, I don't think any of the clothes I brought with me really help me fit in here. Well, since I am a foreigner, I can get away with it here a little bit. Anyways, the guys bought everyone drinks, and we hung out and talked at the club. It was actually really fun, and even though it was a bit cheesy, they told us it was the coolest club in Pristina right now. Where we were standing was outside, and since it is so hot here, it was nice to have fresh air. A whole half of the club is outside, and that's where most people were hanging out.
I tell them I'm going to the bathroom, and one of the girls grabs my hand and decides to take me there. She was twenty years old and didn't speak hardly any english, but she was really eager to be friends and help me. We wait in line for the bathroom, and considering it is the "coolest" place and was packed, there were only two stalls, with no lights, and no toilet paper.. great. Anyways, we walked back to the table and Bina stops me. She looks and me, holds my hands, and says to me, "best friends!" I laughed a little, and said "yes", because after all I didn't want to offend her by reminding her that we could not communicate at all besides this moment. She looks at me again, and looks a little more serious this time and she says again, "best friends forever!" Then she takes out her phone and says "number", so I give her my phone number, and we're officially best friends forever. Her other cousin sees us, and she comes over as well. She speaks more english because she lived in Germany, and we start chatting a little bit. She keeps telling me I speak too quickly, so I try to slow it down a bit, but it was still difficult to communicate. I told her I wanted to buy Albanian music for my friends, and asked if she could recommend someone for me, and she says, "we will go to market together and I will buy you every cd you want for you and friends!" People here are really so nice. She got my e-mail address and told me to call her whenever I want, no matter the day or the time, and that we should hang out a lot more. I don't know if we will really see each other, but it's really nice to know that people here are friendly and so welcoming. Albanians are seriously the nicest people I've ever met.
Sunday, the polish girls and three of the Albanian guys and I all hung out. The guys had offered to take us to Mirusha Waterfalls, a place I really want to go, and it is 2 hours outside of Pristina. Sadly, because we only got home past 5 am, the guys slept in too late and we were up waiting for them for a while. So instead we went out for coffee (of course!) And then the girls and I decided we wanted to Gracanica Monastery, which is about 10 miles outside of Pristina. The guys though refused to go inside, as it is a Serbian monastery and they were scared of what would happen if they went inside. The monastery itself is located in a small Serbian enclave, where everyone speaks Serbian and they use the Serbian Dinar as money instead of the Euro. The guys were nice enough though to drive us to the monastery, and then they drove away. Upon seeing the gates of the monastery, we noticed a couple of swedish military guards stationed outside of it. Most Serbian cultural/historical areas here are under 24-hour military watch; in 2004 there were many Albanian attacks destroying monasteries and historical monuments. The NATO-KFOR forces are stationed there, and each country has different units and bases all around Kosovo. We smiled at the swedish guys and walked in. The monastery itself is beautiful, but smaller than I thought it would be. There were no other tourists there, but there was a wedding on its way out. Everyone was holding hands and dancing and playing music, but almost as soon as we entered they danced their way out.
We walked around the monastery a bit, and noticed on the door there was a sign that said no pictures and no guns allowed inside (well, that makes sense!) If you read the wiki article I linked to the name, you'll find out more about the monastery - I don't want to bore everyone who isn't as interested in the historical facts. After we walked around for thirty minutes or so, we went behind the monastery where we saw where the Swedish KFOR forces lived. It looked like a tiny little shack with a huge swedish flag draped over it. I thought it looked a little depressing, and I wouldn't really want to live there. Of course there is the whole thing of doing a good deed by being a peacekeeper, but those guys looked so bored. On our way out, we ran into a big group of Italian KFOR forces who were also visiting the monastery. We chatted with them for about fifteen minutes. One of the guys was super friendly and used to live in Chicago, so we had a good chat about the US. We took a picture with them but I can't upload it now because of my internet problems. After that, we ran into Portuguese KFOR forces, but they weren't as friendly. We walked outside of the monastery and meandered a little bit around the village, but there were hardly any people on the road and it was a bit boring.
So, having no ride as our Albanian friends had left us there, we decided to try to hitch hike back! Well, I know what you're thinking, but it is a common practice in eastern Europe and my friends had done it all the way from Poland to Kosovo, so they were well-practiced. A lot of cars full of guys would stop and try to pick us up, but even if we had wanted to join them (and we didn't!) there wasn't room for us anyways, those guys just thought they were being funny (and they weren't). After about give minutes this little old man drove up and said we could hop in, so we did! He was going to Pristina, so that worked out perfectly for us. It turned out he didn't speak much English except for "oh, America!!!" and "Cousin in US", but the girls spoke to him in Serbian. The man though was incredibly nice. After we got back to Pristina, he took us out for coffee and paid (like I said, men here always pay for everything!) And then we said bye because we wanted to go eat, but then he took us out for pizza! We went to go pay at the counter, and our waiter told us that our friend had already paid for us and it was taken care of. Then we talked about going to see Kosovo Polje, where the Battle of Kosovo was back in the 1300's. And once again, our new friend offered to drive us there, as it is about 15 minutes outside of the city. There are three monuments there. One is a big stone tower which is exactly where the battle took place. Slovakian KFOR forces also guard this at all times, as it is a Serbian monument. Our Albanian friend had to show his ID to get pas the guards, but we did not, probably because we're young women and we're obviously foreigners. Once inside the area, we saw a lot of the army men there hanging out, walking around, relaxing. This place is in the middle of nowhere once again, but not even with a small town right nearby as like the monastery. We saw where they lived, which looked like big metal boxes. There were places to load and unload your weapons, etc, and big army tanks. To me, this was much more interesting than seeing where the battle took place. The battle though is the most important thing in Kosovar-Serbian relations though, as it establishes Serbian presence in Kosova as early as the 1300's, and shows that something pivotal in their history happened in this land. We walked up the tower, where once again sitting on the top was a single soldier, looking incredibly bored. It was his job to just sit there all day in the burning sun. There was a great view though of the countryside and Pristina from afar.
The other monument we went to was a temple of some sorts, a five minute drive away. The temple was built over the exact place where the Turkish Sultan was killed during the battle. We had to ask the two little old ladies that lived there to open it for us and let us in. There were Turkish graves outside and beautiful flowers growing in the backyard. It was a charming little space but not incredibly interesting. We couldn't go to the other monument because it was a mile walk and you couldn't drive and it was getting a little late.
Our new friend dropped us off at my house, and then we went for a drink on this street filled with little cafes. The bar scene was pretty active for a Sunday night. We wanted to go there, it was the same place we had been the night before, because my friend thought the bartender was pretty cute. It turns out he felt the same way, because right before the bar closed at 12 he sat down with us. Everyone left except for us, so the 4 of us were sitting outside. Then three of his friends joined us which was really fun. It's so interesting just to sit and talk to locals, whether it is about politics, daily life, or anything really. Their english was ok so we could talk a bit; one of the guys kept trying to tell me about his girlfriend who went to live in Belgrade (which he said was very dangerous for an Albanian), but he kept referring to her as "he" or "him" or "his" so it was really funny. I kept trying to correct him but the grammar wouldn't really stick. We talked about a lot of things like corruption, music, money, school, traveling, blah blah.. but it was great. I think I'll go back there another time and hang out with those guys again since they were so friendly. When I left the bartender says, "now we are good friends!" So apparently everyone here becomes good friends really quickly.
Sorry I can't add pictures to these entries yet, but I will as soon as I can! And now you can see why I didn't update this weekend, as I was busy trying to meet people and have some fun!
Friday, after work, I met up with two Polish girls traveling in Kosovo for a couple of days. We hit it off right away; they were a lot of fun and wanted to have some adventure like me. We made plans for Saturday, and we walked around the city exploring the tiny old town. "Old Town" here isn't actually like you would imagine an old town to be like; there isn't some sort of walled city or cute little charming streets with beautiful marble cobblestone or something. In fact, "old town" just means that's where there are a couple of mosques and maybe two older buildings. Almost all of the old buildings were destroyed by Serbians when they came here, as they tried to erase the older Albanian culture. Furthermore, many old mosques never survived, so they built new ones. We even saw one that had a shopping center at the bottom of it! Ha. Even though 90% of the population is Muslim, you hardly ever see any women with their heads covered except for little old ladies. I can hear the call to prayer though from both my office and my house, but I actually like being able to hear it. The biggest mosque in the city, and the oldest, is under renovation right now, so sadly I couldn't visit it.
Saturday night we were out drinking coffee. Walking around the city, you see more people drinking coffee and juice at cafe/bars rather than beer, even at night. I've tried the local beer, Peja, but when a girl orders beer I always feel like I am being judged a little bit or something. Well, it depends where you go. Anyways, as we were sitting at a table outside, a weird looking teenage guy comes up and tries to sell us peanuts out of a big bucket. I nicely say "no thank you", and as soon as he hears me speak english, he goes "America!" He then forgets about his peanuts completely, and starts telling me about every single family member he has. "My mother's name is Maria and I live with her.. My brother's name is blah blah and he lives next door..." then he moved on to his friends, "I have a great friend from Sierra Leone, do you know where that is?" I say yes, of course, it is on the west coast of Africa, to which he replies "it is in Africa" and again, I say yes, and he goes, "in the west", to which again I say yes, then he goes "the west coast of Africa.." well this continues for a while, because apparently he thought I didn't know anything about geography. Then he keeps talking about fish, and how his friend eats fish all the time.. Well he talked about anything you could ever imagine talking about. I felt kind of badly for him so I just sat there while my friends laughed at me for talking to this kid for so long. Finally a group of people behind us told him, "Hey don't you have work to do?" and the peanut kid looked at them, then looked at me, and kept talking. The guys behind us five minutes later told the kid to leave us alone, and I guess he got the hint, because after twenty minutes or so he shook my hand and left. A good thing did come of this though: the people sitting right behind us started talking to us, and I made my first Albanian friends! (well besides my best friend the peanut kid).
The table of our 6 people, all from Kosova. The two younger guys had moved to Australia 10 years ago, as most people here fled during the war, and they have lived there ever since. This was their first time back in those 10 years, so they spoke english very well and had a weird Aussie/Eastern European english accent. They said Aussie things like "mate" and "heaps" but their english still wasn't perfect obviously. They had their uncle with them, who was maybe fifty, and spoke hardly any english. Two of their cousins who were brother and sister and moved to Germany for 5 years during the war, and another female cousin who had stayed here. They were really nice, and they said they were going to a club and invited us along, so we said why not and went with them. We walk for about 10 minutes and arrive at a place with about three huge clubs right next to each other; it all looks a bit run down and depressing from the outside. We get to the one we were going to, "Club Flirt", where all of the security guards have on shirts that say "Security Flirt" on it. I had a really good laugh about that. We get past the long line, I'm not sure why, and Almire, one of the guys from Australia, says that anyone can go in, people just aren't smart enough to say the right things. I guess he was pretty 'smart'. We get past this little booth where you have to pay to get in, and so the polish girls and I are talking about whether we want to pay or leave, and then Almire says that they already paid for us. Well it was only 2 Euro, but still. We later realized that men here pay for everything, even for people they don't know at all. In fact, it's rude to tell someone not to pay for you, because doing so is an honor, especially if you are a foreigner. They consider you their guest in this country and want to do everything to make you have a great time here. It's really generous but sometimes it's a little much, I don't really want to feel indebted to someone. Anyways, we get into the club, and they are blasting some old-school DMX. Almire turns to me and says, "you'll feel right at home here!" and it was true; throughout the night they played older Black Eyed Peas, Dr. Dre, Snoop Dogg, J.LO (Jenny from the Block!) and some other classic 90's hits. The sad part though was that no one was dancing. If you looked across the room, you see hundreds of young women wearing tons of make up, really tight dresses and five inch high heels. Well I was definitely out of place, I don't think any of the clothes I brought with me really help me fit in here. Well, since I am a foreigner, I can get away with it here a little bit. Anyways, the guys bought everyone drinks, and we hung out and talked at the club. It was actually really fun, and even though it was a bit cheesy, they told us it was the coolest club in Pristina right now. Where we were standing was outside, and since it is so hot here, it was nice to have fresh air. A whole half of the club is outside, and that's where most people were hanging out.
I tell them I'm going to the bathroom, and one of the girls grabs my hand and decides to take me there. She was twenty years old and didn't speak hardly any english, but she was really eager to be friends and help me. We wait in line for the bathroom, and considering it is the "coolest" place and was packed, there were only two stalls, with no lights, and no toilet paper.. great. Anyways, we walked back to the table and Bina stops me. She looks and me, holds my hands, and says to me, "best friends!" I laughed a little, and said "yes", because after all I didn't want to offend her by reminding her that we could not communicate at all besides this moment. She looks at me again, and looks a little more serious this time and she says again, "best friends forever!" Then she takes out her phone and says "number", so I give her my phone number, and we're officially best friends forever. Her other cousin sees us, and she comes over as well. She speaks more english because she lived in Germany, and we start chatting a little bit. She keeps telling me I speak too quickly, so I try to slow it down a bit, but it was still difficult to communicate. I told her I wanted to buy Albanian music for my friends, and asked if she could recommend someone for me, and she says, "we will go to market together and I will buy you every cd you want for you and friends!" People here are really so nice. She got my e-mail address and told me to call her whenever I want, no matter the day or the time, and that we should hang out a lot more. I don't know if we will really see each other, but it's really nice to know that people here are friendly and so welcoming. Albanians are seriously the nicest people I've ever met.
Sunday, the polish girls and three of the Albanian guys and I all hung out. The guys had offered to take us to Mirusha Waterfalls, a place I really want to go, and it is 2 hours outside of Pristina. Sadly, because we only got home past 5 am, the guys slept in too late and we were up waiting for them for a while. So instead we went out for coffee (of course!) And then the girls and I decided we wanted to Gracanica Monastery, which is about 10 miles outside of Pristina. The guys though refused to go inside, as it is a Serbian monastery and they were scared of what would happen if they went inside. The monastery itself is located in a small Serbian enclave, where everyone speaks Serbian and they use the Serbian Dinar as money instead of the Euro. The guys were nice enough though to drive us to the monastery, and then they drove away. Upon seeing the gates of the monastery, we noticed a couple of swedish military guards stationed outside of it. Most Serbian cultural/historical areas here are under 24-hour military watch; in 2004 there were many Albanian attacks destroying monasteries and historical monuments. The NATO-KFOR forces are stationed there, and each country has different units and bases all around Kosovo. We smiled at the swedish guys and walked in. The monastery itself is beautiful, but smaller than I thought it would be. There were no other tourists there, but there was a wedding on its way out. Everyone was holding hands and dancing and playing music, but almost as soon as we entered they danced their way out.
We walked around the monastery a bit, and noticed on the door there was a sign that said no pictures and no guns allowed inside (well, that makes sense!) If you read the wiki article I linked to the name, you'll find out more about the monastery - I don't want to bore everyone who isn't as interested in the historical facts. After we walked around for thirty minutes or so, we went behind the monastery where we saw where the Swedish KFOR forces lived. It looked like a tiny little shack with a huge swedish flag draped over it. I thought it looked a little depressing, and I wouldn't really want to live there. Of course there is the whole thing of doing a good deed by being a peacekeeper, but those guys looked so bored. On our way out, we ran into a big group of Italian KFOR forces who were also visiting the monastery. We chatted with them for about fifteen minutes. One of the guys was super friendly and used to live in Chicago, so we had a good chat about the US. We took a picture with them but I can't upload it now because of my internet problems. After that, we ran into Portuguese KFOR forces, but they weren't as friendly. We walked outside of the monastery and meandered a little bit around the village, but there were hardly any people on the road and it was a bit boring.
So, having no ride as our Albanian friends had left us there, we decided to try to hitch hike back! Well, I know what you're thinking, but it is a common practice in eastern Europe and my friends had done it all the way from Poland to Kosovo, so they were well-practiced. A lot of cars full of guys would stop and try to pick us up, but even if we had wanted to join them (and we didn't!) there wasn't room for us anyways, those guys just thought they were being funny (and they weren't). After about give minutes this little old man drove up and said we could hop in, so we did! He was going to Pristina, so that worked out perfectly for us. It turned out he didn't speak much English except for "oh, America!!!" and "Cousin in US", but the girls spoke to him in Serbian. The man though was incredibly nice. After we got back to Pristina, he took us out for coffee and paid (like I said, men here always pay for everything!) And then we said bye because we wanted to go eat, but then he took us out for pizza! We went to go pay at the counter, and our waiter told us that our friend had already paid for us and it was taken care of. Then we talked about going to see Kosovo Polje, where the Battle of Kosovo was back in the 1300's. And once again, our new friend offered to drive us there, as it is about 15 minutes outside of the city. There are three monuments there. One is a big stone tower which is exactly where the battle took place. Slovakian KFOR forces also guard this at all times, as it is a Serbian monument. Our Albanian friend had to show his ID to get pas the guards, but we did not, probably because we're young women and we're obviously foreigners. Once inside the area, we saw a lot of the army men there hanging out, walking around, relaxing. This place is in the middle of nowhere once again, but not even with a small town right nearby as like the monastery. We saw where they lived, which looked like big metal boxes. There were places to load and unload your weapons, etc, and big army tanks. To me, this was much more interesting than seeing where the battle took place. The battle though is the most important thing in Kosovar-Serbian relations though, as it establishes Serbian presence in Kosova as early as the 1300's, and shows that something pivotal in their history happened in this land. We walked up the tower, where once again sitting on the top was a single soldier, looking incredibly bored. It was his job to just sit there all day in the burning sun. There was a great view though of the countryside and Pristina from afar.
The other monument we went to was a temple of some sorts, a five minute drive away. The temple was built over the exact place where the Turkish Sultan was killed during the battle. We had to ask the two little old ladies that lived there to open it for us and let us in. There were Turkish graves outside and beautiful flowers growing in the backyard. It was a charming little space but not incredibly interesting. We couldn't go to the other monument because it was a mile walk and you couldn't drive and it was getting a little late.
Our new friend dropped us off at my house, and then we went for a drink on this street filled with little cafes. The bar scene was pretty active for a Sunday night. We wanted to go there, it was the same place we had been the night before, because my friend thought the bartender was pretty cute. It turns out he felt the same way, because right before the bar closed at 12 he sat down with us. Everyone left except for us, so the 4 of us were sitting outside. Then three of his friends joined us which was really fun. It's so interesting just to sit and talk to locals, whether it is about politics, daily life, or anything really. Their english was ok so we could talk a bit; one of the guys kept trying to tell me about his girlfriend who went to live in Belgrade (which he said was very dangerous for an Albanian), but he kept referring to her as "he" or "him" or "his" so it was really funny. I kept trying to correct him but the grammar wouldn't really stick. We talked about a lot of things like corruption, music, money, school, traveling, blah blah.. but it was great. I think I'll go back there another time and hang out with those guys again since they were so friendly. When I left the bartender says, "now we are good friends!" So apparently everyone here becomes good friends really quickly.
Sorry I can't add pictures to these entries yet, but I will as soon as I can! And now you can see why I didn't update this weekend, as I was busy trying to meet people and have some fun!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)