It finally stroke - homesickness

Yesterday we celebrated Thanksgiving by having lunch in a fish restaurant Trofta in Istog. Before that, I woke up to a freeeeezzzzzzzing morning. It was cold. It was humid. It rained outside. I really didn't want to get up, only to stay under the blanket. Having even just the head outside the only warm thing in my house, the blanket, was too much. And then there is an ice-cold bathroom, with an ice-cold toilet seat and even colder bathtub. Kitchen instead- it feels like a huge fridge but it's not, because temperature in fridge should be lower than elsewhere and my whole downstairs is like one big cold beer - at least temperature and humidity match. Which means that if I want to cook something that takes longer than a few minutes I need to wear gloves.

And the worst is that outside it's not even below zero. I'm not sure of inside. This kills me. In Finland they had new records for coldest November weather, up to (or should I say down to) -33 C. Inside it's still pleasant +22 C. Or knowing my father, up to +25 C when he heats the fireplace.

I miss proper insulation. I miss proper heating. I miss big fireplaces that store the heat and keep the house warm the next day. And then it hit - So I started to actually to miss home. I started really missing home. I miss snow. I miss cold but dry weather. I miss skiing. I miss my friends. I miss supermarkets with wide selection of food. I miss easy cooking. I miss Finnish coffee. I miss candy. Christmas songs and decorations that start already in October. I miss driving a car. I miss reading newspapers and magazines. Sauna. PlayStation. Family. Ballet. Movie theaters. Did I mention coffee already?

So when we were going to the restaurant my mood equaled with cloudy and rainy, grey weather. (Oh, forgot to mention, I miss boneless fish dishes, yogurt, cheese, milk, salads, feta-spinach pie etc.) Coming back towards Peja, clouds gave way to sunshine and revealed the mountains that had been covered in snow. I hadn't seen them for a few days because of rainy weather. They were so beautiful, untouched. My miserable mood changed to smile. An easy life - didn't I try to escape that? What's there to complain anyway? A little suffering won't kill anyone. Next time, I need to bring my skis here.

Consumer protection? Copyright? Patient safety? Never heard.

I don't mind that all movies and music sold in this country are pirates. I don't mind ordering Coca Cola in the most expensive restaurant and get an already opened bottle of so-called Coke, which actually is flat AlbiCola... Or buying a liquid detergent for washing clothes and it turns out to be almost water, in color and otherwise. But when it comes to products for babies – I get mad. I heard the other day that my local acquaintance's seven months old son was in really bad condition and was in a hospital, parents fearing of losing him. Why? They had fed him milk for babies.

Don't trust the best before or use before-dates. Not only shops sell old stuff but the dates may even be changed.

Don't get to a condition that you need a doctor if you don't want to give bribes. Or, at least don't get so bad that you need to go to hospital. If you do, bring your own clean sheets. And use a toilet before going there, unless you are a masochist and want to use a toilet with pee, shit, puke and blood everywhere. Well, at least there shouldn't be worry of getting nosocomial infection. Though of course you can get other nasty diseases just from going there.

I need to believe that some doctors are still good. Sometimes it's hard, just thinking the stories I've heard. Like about a doctor who was having a section on a becoming mother. He leaves the mother open on a table and goes to a husband, asking 250 € or the mother and a baby will die. The husband asks some time to collect the money and calls the police. He gets instructions to pay and take serial numbers of the notes he gives, and then the police will come. If they find these bills from the doctor they'll arrest him. And they did. This happened on Saturday. On Monday the doctor was back to work. Less dramatic but equally horrible was a story of a poor couple, mother giving birth. Hospital treatment should be free, but she had been in pain for three days because the couple couldn't afford paying a doctor to start the delivery. The couple was from a smaller town, and the husband couldn't afford traveling every day so he slept outside in a hospital yard.

You want to hear more about bribing and corruption? Closer than health”care” system, I have been able to follow what happens inside the education system. Now THAT is something unequal.

Yet, life is not miserable. Just DON'T end up in hospital. And don't study.

2 Young 2 Furious

Last weekend I was again in the mountains. Time there makes me think. This is what I wrote down.

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14.11.2010 10:55 Pepaj

I had just laid down on a terrace of F.'s house in Pepaj, and starting to write to my notebook, when something caught my attention. In my hair there was something that didn't belong there. It was a glimpse of silver in copper. One curl was grey.

I pulled it out, trying to find out if it was just the top that was burned from the sun and had lost its color. No - the whole hair was all grey from root to top.

I'm 24 years old, soon to be 25. From my face, people think that I'm 18-22. How come I have my first grey hair now? It's not in genes. Parents: ~50. Grandmother: never. Me? 24?!?

At this point of year I usually have a minor age crisis. Every year. Every time it's about how old I am and inner dialogue if I have accomplished enough in my life. I really don't need this hair issue to magnify the effect.

I keep the hair between my fingers, study it carefully. It shines like silver. It's beautiful, and yet it just doesn't fit in. Still, it's a reflection of me. Like I am a reflection of the world. Beautiful, shining, but don't fit in. I let wind to catch my silver hair. I let it fly. I stand up and promise myself not to have any age crisis this year. (Though I still hope not to make any more such findings.)

Environmentally Responsible Action (ERA) group in Facebook

I actually wanted to put this in the sidebar. First try didn't work out fine. I'm lazy.

Time flies

The countdown has begun. My EVS-time in Kosovo is ending. I have less than three weeks "normal" life (whatever it is) before I start some maniac traveling. Prior to that, I need to pack my life into a suitcase and couple boxes and to move to a corner of a room in my boss's apartment.

First there will be a weekend in Switzerland (thank you Easyjet for opening new routes to Prishtina!). Then back in Peja for a couple of days. A trip to Boston for Christmas and New Year, via New York. Back in Peja, for... three days, I think, before saying adios amigos and moving back to the land of lakes, snow and Sauna.... for a month or so. Until I return back home.

There are certain things to do before the travel season (aka things that I have had, what, 10 months time to do but still haven't accomplished). Such as:

- visiting a mosque

- visiting the ethnographic museum of Peja

- baking Karelian pasties

- at the "rush hour", arms linked with at least two other people, walking from one end of Korza to another, turning around, walking again, turning around and continuing this some time, and making sure not giving way to anyone

- going to the city to check if someone happens to be there and randomly going for coffee

There are more small things and some bigger ones too, mostly something to do with mountains, but I won't stress because of them. This time, there will be next time.

November rain

Today is the first day in November when the maximum temperature has been less that +20 ºC. Now it's only +15 ºC. Is this winter or what?

The moments that matter

Last weekend I spent some quality time with our executive director in the mountains. Beautiful spots where I hadn't been before, home-made raki, some hiking and some more raki.

This reminded me of the most meaningful moments of my whole time in the territory of Kosovo. That moment lasted some two hours.

Our executive director is one of the most inspiring persons I have ever met. He is a man from the mountains, yet a great speaker and a really charismatic person. If I had to choose one day from the past nine months that has been the best, I would not only select one day but two hours that I will never forget. Of course the previous and following days play also an important role in this act. Describing the experience is not easy and it may not sound so special, but for me those moments belong to the collection of the most meaningful moments in my life. This is what happened in May:

On Friday we went to the village of Pepaj, which is the highest of the 13 villages in Rugova. The plan was to stay overnight in F.'s house, and to continue early next morning to Hajla to work on building a cabin. This was one of the first of those nights that I have since spent with F. drinking heavily, being foolish and talking. A lot. Sometimes something deep, sometimes chit-chat. However they are, I value those golden moments. Through words I sense his passion to the mountains.

At some point of the night F. decided that we should go for a hike when sun starts to rise and try to catch some deer on film. Both of us stayed awake, and 4:30 we left, with a video camera (to film deer if we see them) and an AK-47. Just for safety. F. said that he wouldn't shoot other animals except only a wild boar.

We sneaked as silently as possible, stopping from time to time to catch our breath so it wouldn't be too loud. F. showed me how I should step to make as little noise as possible. We arrived at the edge of a forest and sat there for some time, lurking deer. Nothing. We continued a bit further, stopped. Watched. Listened. Nothing.

Until - behind us, in the forest we hear some cracking voice. Both of our eyes light. F. shows with signs that it's a wild boar. I hold my breath. He unsecures the gun.

The next an hour or so we try to track the boar. We move almost silently. We hear the boar from time to time but never see it. Sun starts to get higher in the sky. We spot a red squirrel, F. films it. I go further trying to make it move closer to F. and his camera. We hike back to his village. It's 6:30.

After spending two hours in the forest and not to sleeping before that, I fall into sleep almost immediately. F. continues working in his garden. After two and half hours I wake up, and we drive closer to the spot where we start our hike to Halja. F. carries his chainsaw. The whole day he works like a maniac, cutting the logs to boards. After staying awake the whole previous night, after drinking a lot of raki, after our hike, after other physical work, he continues working until it's dark. Then he eats. Then he falls asleep. Next morning, he wakes up and starts working again.

For me, that two-hour hike was the most inspiring thing I have experienced for a long time. Those hours had it all - the magic of the Accursed mountains, sunrise, silence, excitement... It was the moment that had all the answers. It revealed all the reasons to be here, to be alive. It was the moment that mattered.