Yesterday I got to go to Pristina, Kosovo for a work event. It was a very long, and hot (the car did not have air-conditioning -- even if it does, my colleague does not believe in it) trip there, but we saw some truly gorgeous scenery. We drove through hills and valleys, past fields of wildflowers and of various crops, trucks loaded with hay atop of which rode farmers' sons. Nestled among the many different shades of green were villages of houses with red-tiled roofs. It seems that almost every house here has a tiled roof.
We took a coffee break in a small town about forty minutes from the border, and as I sipped my cold Nescafe, I watched a little yellow-haired boy, maybe six years old, run to the bakery with some coins in his hand to buy bread for his mother. It was very calm, and I couldn't help thinking how nice it is that children can walk alone, safely, here. Reportedly, people can also walk (alone or not) safely at night through most of the cities in the region. Most of the denizens of this particular town seemed to be indoors to escape the heat, although the occasional middle-aged man, draped in a short-sleeved shirt unbuttoned to the sternum, and having adamantly disregarded the deodorant shelf at the store, wandered past.
We finally came to the border, and the driver parked the car on the road's shoulder, next to about ten other vehicles. We had to walk across the border because it is still not safe for Serbian vehicles to be in Kosovo, and vice versa (there were parked cars on each side of the border -- trucks lined up, waiting for approval to pass through). We left the Serbian side and then proceeded to the Kosovo control. As we approached, we were greeted by a KFOR tank, positioned toward Serbia and pointing at the road. It may or may not have been 'loaded' or whatever the term for tanks is. There was another KFOR tank on the Kosovo side of the border (I assume also a show of military might, but I couldn't help thinking of the Maginot Line, when they were unable to fight the Germans because those forces approached from the French side and the guns wouldn't turn that far). I also turned around and saw an overpass between the two controls with a truck parked in the middle and a couple of men with guns sitting on top. At the control, two UN employees sat in the shade while the Kosovar officers inspected our passports. Another car met us on the Kosovo side of the border and brought us to Pristina. Once we got there, I met a few people associated with my organization, including a couple of American expats. Before the event, I walked around the city a bit with another girl. Pristina is apparently becoming a very diverse place, due to the international presence there -- it has a number of different ethnic restaurants. From what I saw, though, which admittedly wasn't the center, and admittedly was just a brief walk through, it didn't have a lot of interest.
While returning to the event, I developed a heat-induced headache -- but could still appreciate the irony of the singer they'd gotten to perform at this event choosing that moment to offer a rendition of Nina Simone's 'Feeling Good.' Luckily, I started to recover in the car on the way back, because I'd really not been looking forward to another four hours of riding with a splitting headache. Even as it was, I felt a bit like a stupid American -- and I don't even use air-conditioning that much in the U.S.! I've got to figure out some way of managing the heat, particularly while traveling here.
Walking back through the border, waiting for the guards to approve our passports, I looked across the road and watched a solitary border guard on his break contemplating a chessboard.
We took a coffee break in a small town about forty minutes from the border, and as I sipped my cold Nescafe, I watched a little yellow-haired boy, maybe six years old, run to the bakery with some coins in his hand to buy bread for his mother. It was very calm, and I couldn't help thinking how nice it is that children can walk alone, safely, here. Reportedly, people can also walk (alone or not) safely at night through most of the cities in the region. Most of the denizens of this particular town seemed to be indoors to escape the heat, although the occasional middle-aged man, draped in a short-sleeved shirt unbuttoned to the sternum, and having adamantly disregarded the deodorant shelf at the store, wandered past.
We finally came to the border, and the driver parked the car on the road's shoulder, next to about ten other vehicles. We had to walk across the border because it is still not safe for Serbian vehicles to be in Kosovo, and vice versa (there were parked cars on each side of the border -- trucks lined up, waiting for approval to pass through). We left the Serbian side and then proceeded to the Kosovo control. As we approached, we were greeted by a KFOR tank, positioned toward Serbia and pointing at the road. It may or may not have been 'loaded' or whatever the term for tanks is. There was another KFOR tank on the Kosovo side of the border (I assume also a show of military might, but I couldn't help thinking of the Maginot Line, when they were unable to fight the Germans because those forces approached from the French side and the guns wouldn't turn that far). I also turned around and saw an overpass between the two controls with a truck parked in the middle and a couple of men with guns sitting on top. At the control, two UN employees sat in the shade while the Kosovar officers inspected our passports. Another car met us on the Kosovo side of the border and brought us to Pristina. Once we got there, I met a few people associated with my organization, including a couple of American expats. Before the event, I walked around the city a bit with another girl. Pristina is apparently becoming a very diverse place, due to the international presence there -- it has a number of different ethnic restaurants. From what I saw, though, which admittedly wasn't the center, and admittedly was just a brief walk through, it didn't have a lot of interest.
While returning to the event, I developed a heat-induced headache -- but could still appreciate the irony of the singer they'd gotten to perform at this event choosing that moment to offer a rendition of Nina Simone's 'Feeling Good.' Luckily, I started to recover in the car on the way back, because I'd really not been looking forward to another four hours of riding with a splitting headache. Even as it was, I felt a bit like a stupid American -- and I don't even use air-conditioning that much in the U.S.! I've got to figure out some way of managing the heat, particularly while traveling here.
Walking back through the border, waiting for the guards to approve our passports, I looked across the road and watched a solitary border guard on his break contemplating a chessboard.
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