“If my grandmother knows Kosovo is a country… everyone knows Kosovo is a country” Flekitza repeats in an attempt to help me understand what is going on in the Serbian community of Kosovo. In her home city in Kosovo, public school teachers get pay checks from the Serbian government, which are substantially larger the the salary Kosovo pays them. A confusing situation that you’ll hear me get lost in several times as Flekitza explains how even her university diploma is now considered worthless, as jobs do not recognize what was then officially a Serbian University. The list of obstacles would be enough to make a person quit and run off to a country where things make more sense, but instead she is dedicated to making a life in Prishtina, together with her Albanian partner. A Serbian-Albanian-Kosovar love story that many people, including family, are not willing to accept. “Who cares what people think.. I certainly don’t”…. in this podcast I spend time getting to know Flekitza’s story, her family, her problems as an ethnic Serbian of struggling Kosovo, and her love of radio. An extra-ordinary individual living in some mind-boggling circumstances.
The Backbone of our World
“Family farmers are the backbone of our nation’s economy,” – the words of the legendary Willie Nelson speaking on behalf of farm-aid not too long ago. I thought about the words of Willie today as I walked through the mud, under the fences, past the sheep, next to the cows, over the stream and yes.. through the woods. Up here in Normandie, I’m not sure there has ever been a farm-aid organization, though we do know that farmers in France get their share of – often referred to as unfair- subsidies and market protection. Maybe it is unfair, but when you’re walking passed the old fashioned farm houses and over the majestic green hills, you can’t help but breath deep and feel… healthy.
Back in New Jersey, in the town where I spent much of my childhood, older people always told me about how my sprawling suburban hamlet used to be a farming town. Yet by the 1990’s there was not a single farm left, and it looked more like a town made up of strip malls, big box stores, and cozy suburban homes. Whatever majestic green there may have once been was long paved over by several highways criss-crossing the town. No one thought about what had been lost – too late now anyway.
Country life isn’t for everyone. It may not even be for me. But when you’re eating cheese or bread, and you can look across the street and wave to the sheep or baker who were responsible for the deliciousness on your plate – there is a satisfaction that anyone could and should get to enjoy (city or country dweller). And my utmost compliments to the people of Northwest France who have managed to preserve their farms and their wonderful environment. Wandering around these sleepy forgotten places, it doesn’t just feel like the backbone of France, it feels like the backbone of a sustainable world.
The Youth of Kosovo
Gent Thaçi is a rare bird in Kosovo, even he would admit it. At 17 years old he devotes most of his energy to making Kosovo a better place, specifically through the cause of Free Software. He knows not everyone understands and he is interested in engaging people, regardless of age or ethnic background, about what may very well help them in the workplace and at home in the already difficult reality for this struggling nation.
While sitting in a corner of an Albanian tavern Gent and I recorded this discussion, as I asked not only about what life is like for teenagers and young adults in Kosovo but also about relations between ethnic groups. We manage to touch on the past, present, and foreseeable future when it comes to work, family, and conflict resolution. Even when Gent doesn’t know the answer to my various questions, he doesn’t pretend to know, but reminds us of what surely becomes clear- he is open and listening to anyone with a good idea.
After listening, you can also follow Gent on Twitter
Only Near Death Experiences
My Malev-Hungarian airlines flights on the way back from Kosovo were heavily delayed, which seems like standard practice with that company. We are in what is supposed to be the last 30 minutes of this return flight to Amsterdam, its evening so there is nothing to be seen out the window, other then what seem to be clouds as we begin our decent. For some reason the decent is taking forever, 15 minutes, 30 minutes, we’re obviously circling the airport. No big deal I suppose, most passengers seem to know how this airline can be and are taking it in stride. Among the languages being spoken around the cabin I can clearly hear that Dutch is the dominant one; In front of me people are chatting casually, I get the feeling by their light conversation, they’ve just met on this flight. Most aren’t talking at all, just focused on the device or book in front of them. On my left there is an empty seat followed by a young gentleman occupying the window seat. He seems to be in his 20’s, of African descent, listening to music on those really high quality headphones I think P.Ditty produces. I haven’t said much to him all flight, other then offering to take his garbage and facilitating some communication between him and the flight attendant. My only excuse is that I’m tired, I fly constantly, I don’t have the energy to get chatty and make friends. I figure he doesn’t want to make friends either. So it goes -normally.
Then it happened. In what even now seems like it never happened, something that I can only describe as feeling like a giant ice-ball slams into the engine outside our window. This is immediately accompanied by a small ball of fire that seems to appear over the engine. This causes the plane to only momentarily shake a little, resulting in a natural sound of panic, fear, and surprise from most passengers on the left side of the plane. They then break into a loud whisper and murmurs, as everyone leans over trying to get a look at the wing. Then gentleman and I look out at the wing and can’t make out much of anything, not smoke, not damage, nothing. The plane seems to be flying normally, but the panic on board is thick. For the first time of the entire flight we’re looking at each other needing to say something, searching for some way to make sense of what has happened and what will happen. In an effort to find something to say, I assure him like some kind of plane expert, “If it is only one engine the plane can still land normally with one engine.” Neither of us seems comforted. Wiser voices among the passengers shush the panicking whispers, “calm, stay calm,” I hear in several languages. Amazingly things get quiet. -And then it happens.
From out of the cloud cover Amsterdam appears below us. I won’t bother to describe how I know, after a decade of flying to and from the city that I call home, I know when I see it from above at any time of day. Nervous people start making jokes and talking about life. I turn to the gentleman and ask him his name. We break into friendly conversation and I learn about his work as a professional soccer player in division I Romania, and his Angolan ancestry. We speak a bit of Portuguese and laugh a little about I don’t remember what. In that moment I’ve decided two things: 1- If something should happen I want to at least know my neighbor in these last minutes. 2- Probably nothing is going to happen but we both need to be distracted right now. Might seem dramatic but all around the plane I noticed the same thing happening, people who had barely spoken to each other suddenly asking each other questions and sharing thoughts and experiences. Some trying to calm or comfort their neighbors, others maybe thinking what Im thinking.
Minutes later the wheels touch down and despite the strangest thing Ive ever seen happen to a plane in mid air, there seems to be nothing out of the ordinary outside. But inside, something even more interesting is happening. Laughter and smiles, all around. I notice a group of 3 people who are not traveling together suddenly exchanging numbers. People are handing each other bags and patiently letting others go before them. Everyone is relieved and there is a euphoria that we rarely experience in our day to day. It would probably be psychologically exhausting if we did. But at the same time, to see such kindness and joy, I was left thinking about how good we can be to each other when we allow ourselves.
The gentleman and I walk towards the baggage check together. We’re still smiling about being safe on the ground, and swapping a few stories. I learn about his kids and his life here in Amsterdam. I tell him a bit more about mine. We part ways at the baggage carousel, in the same style many new friends did that night: “Great meeting you. Ill keep an eye out for your name on the internet. Guess we’ll never forget this flight eh? See around town.”
In the end it is a long story with no big ending. Even the pilot didn’t bother explaining what did happen. And I suppose we can’t live life the way that people who have had a near death (or at least what seems like near death) experience do. But in a world where most of the news and the stories we share describe how cruel people can be to one another, it is fantastic to live a moment where you see how fantastic we can be towards one another.
Brain Gain and Starting Up in Kosovo
Çelik Nimani is well aware of the difficulties his young country faces. He is also well aware of the tremendous creativity and potential that can be found here as well as throughout the international Kosovar diaspora. His goal is to help unleash that potential with a resounding call for everyone to get involved, take initiative, and be the change the nation needs to see. He’s not just a business man, he’s an ideas guy who enjoys being inspired just as much as he himself inspires.
In this podcast we get into how to reach people in Kosovo, to motivate them, to wake up those who are in a depression or feeling powerless. We discuss resources and what this nation has to offer the world. You would think being able to choose your country on a form would be a given, but thats not the case in Kosovo – we discuss this issue. From education to entrepreneurs, this program takes the series on Kosovo to the next level, to where the mainstream media rarely invests the time and energy, and where you can hear the details of this immense challenge from the people who are living them everyday.
çelik Nimani on twitter
His LinkedIn profile
Distance in Your Mind
There are places where one can travel to in this world where you feel distant and an outsider. Makes sense of course, you are an outsider. But here in Prishtina, time and time again, people who I’ve never met before make me feel like I am their neighbor and they’ve been expecting to see me. Perhaps it is the large number of foreigners who are here working as part of the development and security world. Or maybe it is simply that Kosovars are all over the world and sometimes, they return home for good. Whatever the reason, you’ll rarely meet someone who gets wide eyed if you mention New York or Paris, these cities are part of their vocabulary and in some cases, a familiar part of their lives.
It all makes for a strange and alluring atmosphere; wander into a café and one friend will introduce you to another. Before you know it, a conversation that transcends borders and the conventional small-talk erupts. They will want to meet up again, as often is possible, they will make time for you, don’t worry. No topic seems off the table. Even those probably tired and repetitive visitor questions about the country and its significant list of problems. Its no problem here, we can talk about it, we can even talk about problems in a far away land, no country or context is too distant.
Surely it is an old song. I came to Kosovo and made some fantastic friends that I shall seek to see again and surely never forget . I’ve said that of so many countries I doubt anyone takes it seriously. But this is no polite travel note, this is a seasoned veteran traveller telling it like it is in his experience. The world may often forget about Kosovo these days, but here in Prishtina, Kosovo is very much a part of the great big world.
