six months

When I started writing in January, I decided to call this "six months of life in kosovo". It’s an appropriate title, after all. But now the six months are up, and I have been struggling about how to write a conclusion to my story. Is there any really way to summarize a life experience or a place?

But I have to try, so this is my attempt at closure, part one. Please forgive me for its lack of grace…

By yesterday evening, I was feeling overly swamped and my head was working overtime. On the one hand, I've had to pack twice. After deciding what to keep and what to leave (it's amazing how much stuff you can accumulate, even in six months!), I sorted one bag to ship home, and the other to bring backpacking in Europe. But while packing was time consuming, it is not the hard part. That, of course, has been, and will continue to be, the goodbyes.

There are some people I love muchly, and I am confident that we will meet again at some point in the future...in this lifetime.... Maybe they will come to North America to visit -- NYC is always on the travel list of places to see -- or we will meet somewhere in the world for another adventure. One of the greatest things about befriending people from around the world will be going to visit them. Spain, Malaysia, Belgium, England, Sri Lanka, and Prague on the agenda...

But, the reality is that there are many people I expect never to see again, yet who have been a part of my environment for the past half year. I was chatting with the staff yesterday following my final workout at the Pristina Fitness and Bodybuilding Gym (tragic, I know!), and one of the sweetest guys put it fairly accurately: “Have a good life,” he said. There are so many have-a-good-life-ers... The guy at the Dreni Market below my building who smiles each and every time I come for fruit because his brother lives in Canada. The girl at Dragstor (the Dreni’s next door competition), who is young and beautiful and wants to do more with her life, but is stuck working six days a week for 200EUR a month (less than I pay for rent). Albina, the computer-store girl, who waves to me on my way to work. Florim, who sells books across the street from my apartment, and has told me all he remembers about the Jews once living in Pristina. Even the waiters across town who know what I will order and always remember to bring me tap water instead of bottled (Internationals who drink “water normalit” are still rare)...

I have been mentally prepared to leave Kosova for a while now, but I actually had a really good last month here. Last night, sitting out on my balcony and watching the city sleep, it dawned on me that I will, indeed, miss this place.

I am not sad to go, but I will always miss it.

And as I sat there all teary-eyed, I tried to think of what I tell you about Kosova based on what I have learned during the past six months...

From my flat, I can see the university, which is generally corrupt and disorganized, and apartments that are literally crumbling down. The garbage pile behind my building was half-way cleaned-up, though, thankfully, it does not smell. I can see a probably-soon-to-be capital city, Pristina, which is far from glorious. I realise this more each time I leave and return.

It has been six years since the war, and so much had been rebuilt. You can see improvements everywhere. Just last week, amazingly, the water started staying on all night long! But reconstruction efforts are disorganized, and it looks physically as though there is no real strategy for developing in a sustainable way. It is a small country. The sprawl will soon connect villages to the cities and open spaces will disappear entirely. What is built often looks out-of-place, like the McDonald’s in Oxford, and not to mention, nothing is even remotely accessible.

Six year on, and Kosova is still quite a mess. Development here, like the physical reconstruction, is slow.

I have learned much about wars, but most of what I have learned is quite simple... Reconstruction and post-war development are such immensely difficult tasks that they should never have to happen. Period. We must to focus on prevention. The international community hasn’t managed that yet, but it is a necessity.

Stay tuned for more of what I have learned before my flight on Monday.

Same bat time, same bat channel.

crne gore cont.

Turns out that Kosova got the short end of the stick with the whole ex-Yugoslavia thing. I’ve told you about the nice places here, but Montenegro, its westward neighbour, is stunning… In mid-summer, it offered us crisp mountain views, often pared with aqua green rivers flowing through deep valleys, and an amazing coastline.

We stayed in a surprisingly lively town called Kotor, down the coast from Dubrovnik in Croatia. (In exciting news, while I have not yet managed to get that stamp on my passport, I can now say that I’ve *seen* Bosnia -- or a small peninsula of it -- from across the Kotorska Bay.) Kotor is hundreds of years old and remains a walled city complete with a moat and a hill-top fortress… only a small 1350 steps up! My two travel companions made the trek (in super hot weather no less), but I go on vacation to get away from my six-and-a-half flights of stairs, thank-you very much!

We also drove to Perast, another smaller but older waterfront town. Incredibly picturesque. Imagine crumbling stone homes with red roofs and lots of churches, pomegranate trees, grape vines to shade private decks, oranges, bougainvillea, and figs abound. We spent several hours the next day enjoying this same scenery while trying to find a wee’ town called Rosa. We picked it randomly off a map and, after getting lost for several hours on windy roads, were rewarded by a quaint, hippy-ish town with plenty of character… and beautiful swimming in turquoise water. The Adriatic, like the water around Greece, is so salty that you can float vertically with little to no effort, but it was a perfect match to the colourful scenery.

The only thing lacking, though, was the food -- Montenegro is definitely not a centre of haut cuisine! If only they had learned from the Greeks, not too far away, or even the Italians, especially as much of the now Montenegrin coast was once under Venetian “protection”. Despite that, the tourist business seems to be thriving. Hotels and pensions were booked full and Kotor, which boasts far fewer tourists than cities like Budva and Ulqin further down the coast, was brimming with digital cameras.

The trip made me really ponder the fate of the present-day union of Montenegro and Serbia. Officially they are equal and independent (for instance, with two Prime Ministers), but with a few shared government ministries like Foreign Affairs and Human Rights. But sometime next year, Montenegro will become able to vote on the future of the alliance: Separate and continue gaining revenue from the tourist trade (beach in summer, skiing in winter), or stick with Serbia for an economy of scale. Of course there is more to it. There is a shared language, history, and culture… I mean, we spent our first night in the mountains to avoid driving in darkness, and stayed in the town where Milosevic is from. There are definitely those who believe in being a part of Greater Serbia, but definitely not all Montenegrins feel this way. Should be interesting to see what happens.

Anyway, it’s a nice place. Glad I went, though I am in no rush to get back. I admit, knowing that I am completely spoiled, that I appreciate the West Coast as much, if not more, than the Adriatic. We did finally make it home after a little drama – firstly, our car was towed, and then we discovered a debilitating alarm problem that stumped the tow-guy and his mechanic friends for a good 45 minutes. Aiye.

But back at last.

After a nine-hour drive, it really felt like I had returned home.

Kotor, outside the old city:

 


From a church window in Perast:

 


 


Perast. In the distance, behind the boats, there are two islands. One is a monastery and the other is now a museum. We swam out to the monastery, about 20 minutes each way:

 


The Kotorska Bay is also a fjord -- a valley between two mountains so steep that they appear to be coming perpendicularly out of the water:

 

crne gore...

...known to us as Montenegro.

Writing to you from a beautiful internet cafe in the historical old port town of Kotor, on the Adriatic coast. Seems that even the most ancient places can offer modern technology :) I will tell you more about my adventures after I return to Pritina -- we leave today, but have an eight-hour plus drive ahead of us...

This time next week, I'll be in Italy. But before then, I must pack and say goodbye.

So much for one week...

where are all the activists?

Sat around last night, drinking wine, and talking with a few girlfriends who all volunteer for an organization called Balkan Sunflowers. Their mission is to contribute towards the building of a society that supports local activist initiatives. They also try to find and support young activists within local communities – i.e. kids who have an interest in changing the status quo and making a difference, but maybe don’t have the knowledge, skills, or resources to get more involved. That sounds fairly basic, right? Really, it's a huge challenge: Where are all the activists?

I went for a walk earlier (oh smoggy Pristina!) with one of the girls, and she asked about my time in Israel. Specifically, she knows so many people who have visited the country and have fallen absolutely in love, and she wanted to know whether I had that same reaction? I though for a minute, and then realized one of the major reasons that I found Israeli society so appealing is because life there is constantly engaging... You are immersed within a society that has this amazing energy, and where most people have the will to change the world around them for the better. Israelis -- and especially Israeli youth -- are active and vocal about what they think and what they want. Life is politics. Everyone is involved in something.

Israel must cope with many of the similar problems that plague the Balkans. For example, minority communities that face persecution and unequal treatment, environmental disaster, and hatred between ethnic or national groups that seems to be always simmering below the surface. But in Israel, I always felt hopeful that things will change because you can *see* people trying to bring about that change.

Here, you have to squint.

I think widespread indifference and apathy might be the worst consequences of Communism...

update

It's been a while since I've been back from Greece, and my life seems to have actually changed in this time... because now everything feels like a countdown to the end...

I woke up every morning this week -- and unfortunately that's no exaggeration! -- to rain and grey skies that lasted all day. Wow. Just like the West Coast. Then, every evening the thunderstorms would roll around, and we could sit out on the balcony (six and a half stories up) watching the sky light up for hours. Hmm. Just like Ontario. I've seen Toronto on the telly twice this week (on CNN and a sports-related something-or-other) and had hand-made sushi for dinner last night... an *extreme* luxury here, but one of the staple foods at home.

Now that I've got North America on my mind (which I'll get to eventually, after a little in-between European sightseeing), it dawns on me that I have only two more weeks here. Two weeks! Seems crazy. I've been ready to head home for a full four months (mostly due to a severe lack of things to do with my time), but now that leaving is an impending reality, I find myself feeling almost regretful.

Almost.

Of course, there's the typical rush to do and see everything that I want to do and see before I go...

Waterfalls in Kosova that I'm told are stunning. More time at a near-by lake that, low and behold, was actually a pleasure to swim in when I went last weekend. Perhaps a short trip to the coast of Montenegro, in the south of Serbia, to lie on the Adriatic shores?

And, the count of what remains...

Only five more games of ultimate, which has remained the single constant thing in my life for five months. Since many of my friends will be heading for vacations to return after I leave, only a few more days with some wonderful people. And what I imagine to be are the last two weeks in my life in which I'll ever need to speak Albanian :-)

I've also been trying to create a mental list of what I have accomplished here (in terms of work), and sadly, the list isn't too long! This week, after waiting two and a half months, I finally received a response to the last grant application I had written. Rejected, like all the others. I did manage to get a single desk donated to my office, but that's about it in terms of concrete achievements. (But hey, if anyone out there wants to donate a vehicle to a good cause, just let me know!) In general, it seems to be getting more difficult to find funding for projects in Kosova since most organizations are losing interest in this area and moving on to other locations. I guess it's not a surprise that I had no luck, but still, I wish I had been able to do more.

Not achieving a lot, however, does not mean that I didn't learn a lot, but that's an entire topic on its own.

Until then...

pictures of ahh Greece

The view from deck in Chalkidiki:

 


We're in the picture, lying on the amazing rock cliffs by the water right below the apartment:

 


And what trip to Greece wouldn't be complete without a chicken crossing the road?

 


Then, Athens. As a city, is was like a return to normality, complete with recycling bins...

 


...and beautiful homes, like this one covered with grape vines:

 


But the city also has the remarkable. This is the Parthenon:

 


And a view of the Agora from Acropolis, including a small glimpse into enormity of the city:

 


Lastly, a lovely dinner. Greek salad without tomatoes. I thought the waiter was going to kill me. Instead, he brought one bowl of salad for me, tomato-free, and an entire bowl of tomatoes for my friend to compensate:

 

ahh Greece

I finally got to Greece (halleluiah!), after some confusion and then a last minute decision made Friday afternoon to leave Saturday morning… and it worked out perfectly….

I traveled with three wonderful people. Two I met playing Ultimate, a German guy working for a privatization organization (who drove us in his company car), and a super cute Spanish girl who volunteers with youth in a small town called Llipjan. The other person was a new American volunteer working with my Spanish friend. None of us knew each other particularly well, but it turned out to be great company.

We left Pristina at 5am, but after making a necessary detour to pick up a passport, arrived at the Macedonian border only at 7:30. But from there, we had three hours of smooth sailing to Thessaloniki (or Thessalonica or Salonika, the largest city in northern Greece) where we picked up a friend of a friend, and then headed to this girl’s family’s summer home on the beach. It was in an area called Chalkidiki, in the village of Pyrgadiki, another few hours drive, and quite picturesque and cute. Our time there consisted of lying on beaches (despite the unbelievable periodic thunder storms and rain!), eating feta cheese and watermelon, and simply breathing in as much ocean as possible in order to save up for another landlocked month in Kosova. My cute Spanish friend summarized best: “¡Que bonito!”

And it was so amazing of this girl from Thessaloniki to open her home to a bunch of people she had never met, and I’m very thankful of the opportunity to travel so inexpensively…

…Because, seriously, Greece is ridiculously expensive, *especially* coming from Kosova! For example, we went to a beach bar on Saturday, and ordered the most expensive drink I’ve probably ever had in my life. The food was delicious (I was in yogurt heaven!), but I almost felt guilty eating, and the shopping would have been fabulous, if I could have remotely afforded to even look.

But I suppose it was well worth the cost. I just wish I could have stayed longer. Much much longer!!

Even though we only arrived Saturday afternoon, we had to leave again by Sunday evening since a few people had to get back to work Monday morning. Luckily my Spanish friend realized that she did not have to rush home, and felt, as I did, that it would be a shame to spend so little time in Greece. She also managed to convince me that we must see Athens. Slightly crazy, but that’s what we did.

Shockingly, the trains to Athens from Thessaloniki were totally booked, so we resorted to buses even though, as many of you know, I’m not a huge fan of driving long distances. After a six hour overnight ride, we arrived in Athens at 6:30am, Monday morning. All we knew was that we wanted to see the Acropolis, and we would have been completely lost if it wasn’t for the generous help of a man on the bus who went out of his way to find us a subway map, to translate the Greek, and then suggest three areas of interest.
With only the subway map as our guide, we wandered off through the city towards to Acropolis…

Athens, first of all, is a massive city with millions and millions of people. Even at 6:30am, the streets were quite alive. But I was in for a surprise. We happened (literally) upon the Acropolis at 8am, right as it was opening. This turned out to be fabulous because, by 10:30 when we left, there were so many people that it would have been impossible to take a single nice photo! Apparently, Athens is only busy and busier in terms of people!

But the Acropolis was definitely something to see once in a lifetime. On the one hand, I can imagine kids asking their desperate parents why they should care about a pile of old rocks. But as soon as you start imagining how they built such a massive structure on the top of a hill, with only the sky as a backdrop, it begins to feel a little more remarkable. And, for no apparent reason, I began to get all teary-eyed once I started narrating the stories of the Iliad and the Odyssey to my friend. Aye. Still cheesy, I guess.

After the Acropolis and a brief tour of the Agora – described to an English-speaking tour group as the place “where Socrates once walked” – we simply spent the rest of the day wandering around town, laying in a park, and finally making one final trip by subway out to see the ocean…

Oh… and worrying about my Visa card, which of course was eaten by the bank machine first thing in the morning before the bank was open! I have other cards, but Kosova is a cash-based society and only that one card is programmed for cash withdrawal. I returned after the Acropolis, prepared to fight with the bank staff, feeling like I would have to battle with the credit card company in North America long distance… but there was no problem! The bank machine had somehow malfunctioned, and had stolen another 15-25 people’s cards before 8am! I can’t express how relieved I was to have it back in my hands.

Anyway, this is the end of my tale. We took a midnight bus back to Thessaloniki, arrived at 6:30am on Tuesday, and left by a fabulous old-fashioned train for Skope that day. It was a brief and generally exhausting trip, but I’m glad to say that I’ve seen Athens. And really, there is nothing there worth seeing there that needs more than a single day. Next time I'm there, I hope to be passing through on my way to the islands.

Anyone for Mykonos or Santorini? Just let me know when!

in honour of Canada Day

In attempt to beat the heat yesterday, I decided to head to the gym late last night. It was fairly empty, and one of the guys who runs the gym was taking the opportunity to work-out while he worked. He was pedaling away on the bike machine next to mine, dripping with sweat as though he had been going for hours, and people kept coming over to talk with him... They seemed to be amazed at his apparently wondrous cycling abilities and eager to offer encouragement. So, finally, intrigued, I asked the guy how long he had been on the bike. His response: 40 minutes!

40 minutes? Wow. Now, I'm thinking, that that's not a whole lot! So we kept chatting, and I mentioned that, at home, it is common for people to spend 45-minutes to an hour on cardio machines. He thought that was crazy and funny, and everyone else, I'm sure, would agree with him; most people at the gym (including the women) spend maybe 15 minutes on cardio, and move right on to weights and body-building.

When I motioned this difference, my friend had a great answer, made all the less-eloquent by his somewhat choppy English:

"Canadians are fat. They need more cardio. Here, people need to be strong."

Oy. Only in Kosovo!