Kumuka

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The Coma of Thanksgiving

I’m Back

I feel like Rip Van Winkle. October hit, and so did an avalanche of classes, tutorials, travel around the country, international visitors, and overall business. I think I’ve finally dug my way out, so here we go again. 

General Updates: Too much happens in one day, let alone over a month, to detail it all here. But here are some of the big updates.

Travel: I’m getting to travel around the country each week, and I’m really enjoying it. I’m working on a civic engagement project in the schools, and the project recently expanded to five additional municipalities all around Kosovo. While English is widely spoken in Prishtina, once you get into the villages and small towns, it’s all Albanian. I love being in the heart of the country and being able to speak with the people. 

More Travel: My winter plans are set. From December 22 through January 2, I will be spending time in Tirana, Albania, Rome and Venice in Italy, Kiev, Ukraine, and Istanbul, Turkey. The countries of the world are now no further than Arizona to Texas. I love Europe. 

Classes: I started class at the Faculty of Islamic Studies last month, and that’s been a great experience. I have 1:1 tutorials set up for Balkan History, Islamic Civilization, and Albanian language studies. I also take classes with the faculty’s students, many of whom are training to become imams and hoxhas in their communities. It’s an eye-opening experience that challenges the view of Islam in the West. More on this later. 

What happens next?: It’s a good question, one that I’m not completely sure of myself. I really don’t even know what my summer holds. I do know that I have one more year at ASU when I return from Kosovo, and I’ve applied for the Truman Scholarship, one of the more renowned undergraduate scholarships for graduate education and careers in public service. I had a busy week last week finishing that application, and should hear in a couple weeks if I get to move on to the next round. Meanwhile, my LSAT prep book is taunting me from the bookshelf, and I’m trying to forget I brought it with me. I was at this point two and a half years ago for undergrad, and I can’t believe I’m back here again. But really, I’m excited to see what will happen over the next months. 

Thanksgiving Abroad

There are quite a few Americans in Prishtina, and many of them are students. About nine of us are going to get together Thursday to give thanks Kosovo style. We’re looking for a turkey, but without a lot of success. We might have to settle for chicken breasts, but we’re still looking. 

Globalization Moment

It’s a big world. And it’s also a small one. I get both impressions when I hail a taxi in Albanian to get to the small Serbian enclave a few minutes outside the city, introducing myself with “Zdravo” in Serbian when I get there as I walk to meet the fluent Serbian-English speaker who will be teaching French at the French corner. Did I mention this certain person speaks fluent Japanese?

I’ve been wanting to learn some French, and I met a Serbian friend in Prishtina who mentioned that the French Corner (sponsored by the French Embassy) in the Serbian enclave of Gracanice was offering free French lessons to the community. American me living in Prishtina was invited, and of course I accepted.

These two communities are two worlds just moments apart. In Prishtina it’s a European culture that speaks Albanian and loves Americans. Ten minutes away is a smaller community of Serbs struggling to survive, hanging onto the Serbian heritage as much as they can. Their view of Bill Clinton is not as positive - the NATO strikes that dropped on their heads are still not forgotten. They pay in different currency, speak a different language, and read and write in Cyrillic. 

The French classes were cancelled for this week, so I spent a couple hours conversing with the young Serbian who invited me to Gracanice. He’s extremely intelligent, knows American politics better than Americans do, and can hold a conversation on any topic. It is truly interesting to see America through the eyes of others. If more of America had the opportunity, their perception would change forever. More on this later, too.

I’ll soon elaborate, as well as post a few photos I’ve taken on trips around the country. Check back soon. I’m back - promise!

Occupy Main Street

I turned on the TV last night to watch the news in Albanian. Like most global news sources, Kosovo TV highlights what happens both locally and globally. At the end of the news hour, they threw in a little segment on the recent American movement “Occupy Wall Street.” It’s quickly spreading nationally, and now gaining interest internationally. 

Wanting to find out more, I took a chance to glance through their website. In bold letters splashed across the front page reads “#OCCUPYWALLSTREET is a people powered movement for democracy that began in America on September 17 with an encampment in the financial district of New York City. Inspired by the Egyptian Tahrir Square uprising and the Spanish acampadas, we vow to end the monied corruption of our democracy …””

Tahrir Square, huh? And where is Egypt today? It’s a product of Arab Spring that is shackled to its own inability to build anything from the ruins of the government it tore down. If democracy is where we want to move towards, copying Tahrir Square is not my first choice for a model of success. 

But Americans are obsessed with the idea of protest, of the people sticking it to the man. We’re in love with the idea of pulling down a dictatorship, of forming a conspiracy theory that we can pin problems too. There’s something about throwing shoes and rocks at the establishment, at waving the sign above our heads, that gets our blood moving. There’s something enticing about doing all these things and calling it civic engagement. We like to form our bandwagons and get people on them, to feel part of the mob. And this is why we like democracy. We like the rule of the mob. 

But when will we target the real culprit - Main Street?

That’s right. Main Street. Wall Street is a symbol, not the problematic structure. It only represents what happens when Main Street falls down on the job, when the average Joe is happy to fold his arms and accept the democracy he deserves; one that doesn’t work because he let it fall to pieces. The fact of the matter is that Wall Street won’t get fixed until Main Street gets involved and fixes it. 

As a young global citizen doing my part to represent my country halfway around the world, it disappoints me to see my fellow youth camping outside Wall Street showerless, shoeless, aimless, often misunderstanding the entire reason they’re there in the first place. It disappoints me that the most powerful generation the world has ever seen, the Y Generation, seems only capable of repeating the cycle of history and joining the commonplace Main Street crowd that put us here in the first place. Yet some of my fellow generation include highschool students who became mayor of their city with a write-in ballot and $700 dollars, Navy Seals who occupied the Mayor’s seat by the age of 24 after serving their country. It consists of Congressmen who update their constituents on every vote cast using Facebook. As a young global citizen, I have to refuse that protest is our only recourse, our only hope for change. I have to refuse that my only ability to create change is to sit with the mob outside the establishment and hope it comes crumbling down because I happened to look up and realized it is no longer working for me, as if it was in the first place.

This Y generation has the most potential for impact today. But it’s time to take Main Street, not Wall Street. It’s time to make ourselves accountable for the mess we’re put in, for not keeping Wall Street accountable long before this. It’s time to reflect on how our disengagement has allowed the establishment to grow stronger. And it’s time to take Main Street inside the school boards, inside the county seats, inside the state legislatures, inside the supreme courts, inside the White House, inside Capitol Hill, inside Wall Street. 

It’s not time to occupy Wall Street. It’s time to tackle the real problem. It’s time to occupy Main Street.

New Death

                             

New Life

Prishtina was buzzing this last week with a new life - the addition of hundreds of even more young people. Class started at the University of Prishtina and at the faculty I’m studying at. The beautiful fall weather that usually preludes the death of winter felt more like spring than anything else. The cafes spilled over with youth laughing, smiling, joking. The Youth Palace was filled with students hanging out. It felt like a city newborn. I’ll start classes on Monday. 

Is This Real Life?

The answer is yes, and I’m getting used to it. I’m in a groove now. A friend from the States (who is also here for the year) and I were talking about this recently. This is feeling less of an abroad trip and more like a lifestyle. Strangely enough we both commented on how even now we are not looking forward to that time when we have to leave and head back to the US. Here is home and that’s a good feeling. 

I’ve started regularly going to a gym out here, and it’s been an interesting experience so far. I’m clearly the foreigner. In the States I would run to the gym, slide my ID, work out. Here, it’s a system of specific gym shoes, lockers, changing rooms…I walked to the gym in my work out clothes and was quickly looked up and down. “Where are your work-out clothes?” I looked down at my Reebok and Adidas. “I’m wearing ‘em.” Playfully the friend I met up with there replied “Oh, well you’re not in America anymore man. You’re in Kosovo. And here we bring shoes and clothes to the gym and change here.” 

Life outside the Capital

The Future Voters program I’m working on out here has been extended funding to expand to municipalities and cities across Kosovo, and so I’m getting a chance to travel to cities across the country and meet with schools and directors about implementing the program. It’s a beautiful country with beautiful people, and I’m enjoying getting to meet and interact with more than just the capital city folks. The capital city is largely international, and the real heartbeat of Kosovo happens once you get a few minutes out on the Prishtina/Skopje road out of town. I spent a day in Ferizaj this week, about forty minutes from Prishtina. It was a nice little town that reminded me of the American Midwest. 

Life outside the Country

I’ve gotten to meet some great people out here from the States, and, like me, they want to take advantage of things being so close and accessible. Next weekend starts a three-weekend stint of travel outside of Kosovo, starting in Greece next weekend, Albania the next, and Bulgaria to close out October. Winter here is already starting to set in, and so that might be it for traveling for a while once we say goodbye to October. 

New Death

A friend and I were talking out here the other day about how far in the past the war seems. And I guess this is true in some ways. Ten years later, any major ethnic confrontations are fairly minimal, Kosovo is a country according to most of the world, the young people fill the streets and cafes, babies are born, fashions are being made. In other ways, there are consistent reminders of it. Like the taxi driver who looks down from the road for a brief moment to show me where the bullet went through his leg when he was fighting with the Kosovar forces. Or the guy I had coffee with the other day who told me about when he and his mother escaped into Albania, vividly retelling what it was like when his father finally found them after the war. He remembers hearing his father call his name, in a voice that belonged only to his father. He remembers crying as their family reunited for the first hug. 

I remembered all these conversations when I saw a small child today with his mother walking down the main boulevard, a toy machine gun in one hand, another clasping his mother’s finger. On the side of the street are toy pistols, grenades, machine guns for sale. And I think to myself - how close might a new death be? What happens when we prime our children around the world for violence? Tell them it’s ok to play with guns, instill in them the shallow dominance that comes from weapons of destruction? How much responsibility do we have today to create a culture of peace? It starts with those who have the scars from bullets to teach younger generations that the plastic they hold in their hands now becomes the real thing later. It starts with those who have been separated from their families to make it clear that the bauble now becomes death later. Otherwise we’re stuck in an endless cycle of war that starts as a game, a toy in the hands of a child, and ends in a new death for a new generation.

How to Change the World

Get real. That’s it. 

Change starts with real conversation in the smoke-filled rooms and back-alley cafes. It starts with a shared sandwich, an unexpected discussion starting with a simple question. 

“Can I see the newspaper?”

I had a couple free hours so I thought I would head to a nearby cafe and get some Albanian vocabulary practice in. Daily I buy the local newspaper here and try to read through it, highlighting words I don’t know as a way to work on the language and keep up with local and global affairs. One of USAID’s community projects in the city is a community cafe, and I wanted to see what it was all about. I sat down, ordered a coffee.

“Mund të shikoj gazetën?” (Can I see the newspaper?) Two guys were sitting in the booth next to me, and one of them wanted to see the newspaper. Between the music and crowd noise and his quick, low-voiced Albanian, I didn’t catch what he said exactly. I moved closer and looked at him, expressing I wanted him to ask again. He did, but again it was inaudible. So he did what a lot of people here do. He switched languages. Broken English came out next, a little louder this time.

“Where you from?”

“The States.”

“Yeah?!” I’ve come to anticipate this reaction. “Mmhmm.” He was waiting for his burger to come. The waiter blocked my view of him for a minute, plopping the burger on the table.

“Come, sit over here.” His broken English was not bad at all, and so I moved my stuff over to his table. He introduced himself and his friend. And then he launched into a political monologue, one of the most interesting I’ve heard in a while, in Albanian. He broke off a piece of his sandwich for me to eat, inhaling the sandwich in between impassioned soliloquies on life as he saw it. He finished his sandwich. “Want to do coffee?”

“Sure, why not.”

We left the noisy cafe and went across the street to a cafe underground one of the private universities here. I ordered a coffee, and we jumped into another conversation, this time about religion. In Albanian. I’ll translate.

“This whole religion thing, it’s a mess. I’ve grown up Muslim, but religion is the problem.” He mouthed an expletive, pausing to light a cigarette. A few of his friends sat down, lit up. The place filled with smoke.

“This whole Islam is terror thing? Man, Islam is about peace, you understand? Jihad, there are a lot of different kinds brother. Islam is not terrorism. Every day in the States, 14 people convert to Islam. You want to call it terrorism? Great Britain has become Muslim. You want to tell me that’s because Islam is terror? C’mon brother. You, brother, you Christian or Muslim?”

“I’m Christian.”

“Now, see, I don’t say you’re a bad guy because of your religion. You’re a friendly guy. I like you. Christian, Muslim, Buddhist…you’re a nice guy. And I like you because you’re a nice guy. Religion has nothing to do with it. Why can’t Muslims get the same respect? We’re about peace, like every other religion ultimately. Now, don’t get me wrong, brother. I like America, I like it’s people. But why all this discrimination over there against Muslims? Why this fear of Islam? It’s because religion is the problem, and those who discriminate against people for it. Discrimination man, discrimination.”

We continue in Albanian. I jump in. “For me, there is a difference between religion and belief. For me, I’m a Christian because it’s a belief. It’s something absolutely necessary to me for my life. But I’m not going to shove it down your throat.”

I’m on a roll, the Albanian is happening for me, so I continue. “I think a lot of people have problems with religion and God for the wrong reason. People use religion negatively. God and Christianity aren’t bad because people misuse Christian teachings. Allah and Islam isn’t bad because people misuse Islam. It comes down to people. And for me I have a belief, not a religion. The people who are the problem are those who hold to a religion, not a belief.”

I glance at my new-found friend and his friend through the smoke-filled room. My eyes water a little bit, I take a sip of coffee. We’re quiet for a bit.

“I like you brother. This is my friend, my best friend.” He pointed to the guy across from me. “Like a brother. And I like you. Why can’t we be like brothers?” 

I should have been shocked, but I wasn’t. What else was supposed to happen when two people dropped the titles, the labels? We clasped hands in Balkan style, put our heads together as is customary. “Brothers.”

Another quiet space. Another cigarette lit. I broke the silence. “This is how it happens man. This is how the world changes. It starts with us. Why not?” I looked through the cloud of smoke.

“Why not man?”

How do we change the world? 

Let’s talk, and get real doing it.

How do we keep the globe moving forward in a world torn apart by self-inflicted labels?

Drop the labels. Let’s talk, and get real doing it.

How do we bring change from the capital cities to the communities?

It doesn’t happen in the classroom, doesn’t come from As or Bs. It doesn’t happen behind fancy suits and ties. It happens in smoke filled rooms, it happens in back room cafes, it happens with real people.

So let’s talk, and get real doing it. 

That One Big Update

Life has been really hectic lately, and I’m realizing it’s been a couple weeks since I’ve written any sort of update. So, here we go.

Generally…

I can’t complain. Life is good. I have fully moved into my apartment just a few minutes from my internship and a little ways from my faculty. It’s also a great location near the center of the city. I can see my language proficiency improving, but it’s nowhere where I’d like to see it. I’m still trying to sort out differences between the Tosk and Gheg dialects. I learned in Tosk, but even some of the grammar in Gheg is drastically different. Thankfully, all the media, tv, textbooks, etc. are in Tosk, and the day-to-day activities are in Gheg. In the end, I’m hoping that I will have decent fluency in both. I’ve also begun to settle into a lifestyle outside of just the basics. I’ve joined a gym and am getting into a rhythm much like I had in the States. 

Culture and Festivals

Most people who spend any time in Prishtina leave commenting the most on the culture and festivals to be found in Prishtina. Prishtina is often described as the city that people love to hate, but that of course is an unfair description. Between national honey festivals, dance events, international flute festivals, concerts on the main boulevard, international film festivals, international beer festivals, and more, there’s not a lack for culture and festivities in Prishtina. The French Ambassador said it best a couple weeks ago when he opened the International flute festival here: “We have music to move on from what was, and culture to become what we want to be.” That plays out well in Prishtina. 

Skopje and White Night

As things are settling down here in Prishtina, I’m starting to travel outside of the country as time allows. I spent a weekend in Macedonia a couple weeks ago, and happened to stumble upon White Night, where the capital city of Skopje was up in lights the entire Saturday night through Sunday morning. The bars were open, the cafes spilling over with people, museums opening, the castles, monuments, and statues lit up. White Night is an annual Macedonian cultural night where it displays its culture and people for the world to see. I decided sort of whimsically to take this trip, and proved how much fun it can be to just travel to parts of the world and see what you happen to see. I was going to be in Montenegro this weekend, but that didn’t shake out. I still want to make it there and Sofia, Bulgaria soon. There is also a UNMIK trip to Thessaloniki in Greece that I might jump on board with. Everything is close by and fairly cheap here, making travel a must. 

Embassy

It’s been great to interact with our men and women overseas here at the Embassy. I got a chance last weekend to have an orientation and lunch with Ambassador Dell, and got to grill him on Kosovo policy and issues as he sees them. Apparently he used one of our conversation points in an interview with the New York Times later that day. 

Internship

My internship is going well, and I’m enjoying interacting with the office staff. They are all very friendly and very bilingual, although I try to speak Albanian as much as possible. I am working on a youth voting program, which we are spreading throughout Kosovo for the upcoming elections in 2013/2014. I’m looking forward to being able to interact with people all over the country in the upcoming months. Better yet, it looks like I might be able to work my class schedule and coursework around this opportunity. Things are very flexible around what I need and want to do, so that’s been good. 

Classes

Classes haven’t started yet, which doesn’t bother me! I was told classes start October 1, but that’s today and Saturday, so who knows. I’m guessing classes start October 3, but again, who knows! This is typical of Kosovo, where sometimes even the teachers don’t have their schedules until they should be teaching classes! I’m just rolling with it. With the set up of things I’m not too concerned. I’ll be taking mostly Albanian language classes 1:1, but will have a class in Balkan History and another in Islamic culture. 

The International Community

The international community here is a widely diverse one, and I am continuing to get a chance to meet more and more of them. Got to meet quite a few Americans today working and researching in Kosovo over a game of Ultimate Frisbee. One place, many languages, many people, and many stories. 

Month of Health

I’m going to dedicate the month of October as a month of health. I’d like to get back to the level of fitness I had over the summer. I’ve noticed I’ve become more and more lethargic and spend a lot of time working on things sitting down - a formula for getting fat, tired, and lazy. I want to get back to that point where working out and fitness activity are not only a way to stay in the best physical shape, but also a way to blow off steam. 

That’s “all” for now, but I’m going to try and stay more consistent with blogging than I’ve been recently. For pictures of Skopje and Macedonia, they’re all on Facebook. 

What Happens in America…

There’s a saying that goes something like “What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas.” Unfortunately, I think we’ve adopted that idea in aspects of our American policy, picking up a sort of “What happens in America stays in America” vibe when it comes to the selection of our presidents. With the current state of affairs around the world, I think it’s important that we begin selecting our national leadership with an eye towards the way they might be accepted globally, how their election denotes changes in American foreign policy, and concerns held by what is often considered “the outside world.” 

I had an interesting conversation with a Kosovar yesterday at the office where I work. He is in the process of moving from one room to another, and was bringing odds and ends into the conference room where I was seated. He laid a picture of Barack Obama on the table, and caught my glance as he did so. Out of the blue he asked in English “I’ll bet you’re a Republican, huh?” Then, without letting me elaborate on that question, “I used to be a Republican.” Surprised, I asked “Oh yeah, what changed?” He looked straight at me: “The Tea Party. I don’t like them, I don’t like their policies, and I don’t like where the Republican Party is going because of them.” I was a little shocked that he was that invested in American politics to be swayed this way. Whether or not we want to brush this sentiment off as just another person “infected with the disease of European Socialism” (as is the popular grandstand nowadays), I think it’s time we start taking the outside world seriously and electing politicians who will have legitimate rapport with the rest of the world. Other nations have the benefit of being somewhat autonomous in their policies and national identity. We don’t have such a luxury, and I wonder how the world would view the US if it were to elect one of the Tea Party-affiliated candidates for presidents? 

Catching up on Wolf Blitzer’s recent interview with Iranian President Ahmadinejad brought up this concern on the other side of the aisle. “I asked him what his impression was of President Obama. Ahmadinejad said Obama came with the slogan of change but never delivered. He went on to say that Obama lost the support of the American people, and he said his own opinion of Obama is very much in line with the American population.”

Living abroad and being able to see America through the eyes of the rest of the world has me thinking about American politics and politicians in a broader scope. For the next year and a half, I’m expecting to hear a lot more discussions on HPV, governor-enforced mandates, abortion, social issues, etc. in deciding who should be the President of the United States in 2012. While all these things have their place, we also need to put greater emphasis on selecting a President who will not only lead well here, but exert legitimacy and validity abroad as well. 

What Makes the World Go ‘Round?

I went for a late lunch today at one of my new favorite restaurants. When I was done with my meal, I called over the waiter to pay. He gave me my change, and as I was packing up to leave, he asked me in English: 

-“So, where you from?”

-“The States.”

-“Oh! How long will you be here?”

-“Nine months.”

-“Nine months?! In Prishtina? Why?”

-“Yep. I’ll be learning Albanian for the year.”

-“Bravo. I’ve been learning English at a course nearby, but it’s not very good.”

-“Hey, you know, it’s not bad!”

-“Well thank you. Maybe we could exchange numbers, have coffee sometime so I can practice my English.”

-“Sounds good. You can practice English, and I’ll practice Albanian.”

After I left, I sent him a text with this message (translated from Albanian): “This is Zach from XiX. Send me a message anytime for coffee. I can practice Albanian and you can practice English. See ya!”

He responded a few minutes later: “Thnx my new friend, i hope we will see, have a good day”

This is how it works here. There’s something special that happens when humanity from all parts of the world get together to improve their lives in different ways. It’s what makes the world go ‘round. 

So You Think You Can Dance….Albanian?

             

You never quite know what you’re going to find in Prishtina, or when you will find it. I turned the corner this weekend to find myself face to face with a crowd of young people all wearing folk attire. I had run myself right into an international youth dance festival here, three days long. Young dance groups from all over the country were here. Yellows, blacks, reds, greens, purples. 

Between the evening prayer echoing across the city from the mosques or the piercing trills and tonality of the folk music, I haven’t decided what is more haunting or tellingly eerie. The drums banging a strong beat, the accordion flying up and down the scale, but it’s the clarinet that sounds through it all. The clarinet blends in, then suddenly sends out a long, chilling tone, trilling up and down in a way that tells its own story. There is nothing like it that I’ve ever heard before. 

As I watch these young people dance on stage, generations pass before me. Blocking my way for a moment are two teenage girls in muffin tops and on cell phones. Some things don’t change across cultures. Or some things do, depending on how you look at it. Too my right is an eighty year old man, wearing the traditional hat that older Albanians mostly wear. An older couple bump into my arm, the man bent over slightly walking a few yards in front of the woman, as is also traditional. It’s incredible to watch these pieces of history partake in the same event. 

A particularly skilled couple is now in front of the stage, backed up by dancers in uniform. The young man is now on his knees, snapping his fingers and shaking his upper body at the girl dancing circles around him. With a flourish the music ends, and the audience applauds.