I've always wondered about how exactly international borders are decided. Other than geographical barriers such as bodies of water and mountain ranges, how do leaders/conquerers decide where their territories end?
The border between Macedonia and Kosovo was not remarkable - it resembled a tollbooth in the middle of nowhere. However, the moment we crossed the border, it began to snow. Perhaps the differing climates were a decisive factor in where to lay the border or perhaps it was just a coincidence on that day at that specific border, but it was quite surreal. My only knowledge of Kosovo prior to the trip was a vague recollection of the war that took place ten years ago. I expected to see barren, war-torn wastelands, but I was blown away by the natural beauty of Kosovo during our bus ride. Unending mountains, rivers, and waterfalls surrounded the bus and we made our way to the capitol city of Pristina.
I was traveling with Vered, the Perrotis College intern / guest professor, and our ultimate destination was Gjakove, a small city South of Pristina. We didn't have much time between buses to poke around the capitol, however I could feel the American influence. There is a huge avenue named after Bill Clinton and allegedly a three-story portrait of him on an office building in commemoration of American assistance during his presidency, which helped end their war and eventually led to Kosovar independence from Serbia. Kosovars speak Albanian and share many cultural traits with their western neighbors. Like Macedonia and Albania, Kosovo was occupied by the Ottoman Turks for 500 years, so the lingering Turkish presence is obvious in the food, the architecture, and the Muslim population.
At the bus station, we used a combination of grunts, smiles, and International Body Language to figure out which was headed to Gjakove, and we were on our way. Arriving in Gjakove two hours later, Shpendi Gojani, a friend from Perrotis College, picked us up and drove us home. The Gojani family hosted Vered and me for three nights, and couldn't have been more accommodating; they were almost too hospitable. We would go out with Shpend and other PC friends for coffee until 1:00 or 2:00a.m. and Mama Gojani would wait up for us with a full meal. After the first night, I tried to have Shpend dissuade her (because she only spoke Albanian) from staying up and from preparing the food, but she was unstoppable.
The most overwhelming aspect of Kosovar culture was the concept of family unity. Every home we visited and almost every Kosovar I spoke with in Gjakove lived at home with members of their immediate family. Grandparents, parents, and kids all lived together in most homes; even post-college, Kosovars usually move back in with their parents and raise families in the same home. Shpend's grandmother, one of the sweetest ladies I've ever met, stayed with the Gojanis while we were in town and has four sons living in a five-block radius. She lives with one son and his family for a few months then goes to board with another son - it is a cool system and I could sense the deep attachment among the Gojanis and other Kosovar fams. This bond is due to their constant interaction as well as the traumatic events they've experienced together during the war.
Ylli, another friend from Perrotis College, lives in a small village just outside of Gjakove, and we all spent most of the time in Kosovo together. During our stay, Shpend and Yll told us stories about the war that were literally unreal. These guys were teenagers while the war was devastating their country, so they have vivid recollections. I find it hard to grasp and relay the events because I have never had a comparable experience, but a violent war was taking place all around them. They spent countless hours hiding in their homes listening to gunshots and explosions in their neighborhoods. They lost family members and friends. Most of the Kosovars had no weapons, so Albanian and American aid was crucial. Their stories were extremely powerful, and the visit to Kosovo was one of the most memorable trips of my life.
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