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.

Boys boys boys

They are raised to be kings of the city, if not the world. They are let to do whatever they want, and even encouraged to do stupid things. They are spoiled, they are wayward, they are sons. They are loved. More than daughters.

Within a week I have twice stopped a bunch of boys tormenting a stray kitten. Last time yesterday. A kitten was running under a car, three boys following and trying to kick it. I flipped out (in my mind) and angrily compelling them to stop. I got some weird faces but didn't care. Finally boys ran away and the kitten was safe for a while at least.

The other day we were having a walk with my friend. In one hour timeline two random boys tried to kick or hit us. And what do parents do? They laugh. Boys are boys.

Here, a family concept is different. A new wife moves to her husband's home after the wedding. And I mean home-home. With a mother-in-law, and other brothers' families. She goes to visit her own family once a month for a week or so. In her new home, under the eye of the mother-in-law, the newest bride serves everyone. She stands up whenever someone comes of goes to the room. She brings coffee to guests. This continues until she gives birth to a son. Daughters don't count. Sons do. Oh, and only the sons inherit, too.

What is this patriarchal society? Raised to believe in equality, I find it really hard to accept such things. Today, (I would say luckily) more and more city girls share my thoughts. But village girls - this is their dream. To get married to a wealthy family. To get a son. Because they are so precious. They are kings of the city.

Tik-llakat

If I ever have hated something, it's this thing. Life in Peja has been peaceful, until around two weeks ago... streets started suddenly to fill with these things. They are strings with a ball at each end. And they make noise. And they cost 50 cents. You put that plastic ring in your middle finger and when moving your hand, balls hit against each other and make extremely annoying noise. It's tik-llakat, and its only function is to make irritating noise. And that it succeeds to do.

For me, tik-llakat represents everything bad, evil and disgusting. It is cheap, it's crap and it has no reason to exists. Yet it's so popular. Now, absolutely everybody has tik-llakat. Bunch of kids in the street have them. Youth have them. Roma people have them. A mobile operator salesman has them. A waiter in the café has them. A taxi driver leaning his car waiting for customers has them. A stray dog has them. And they make noise. They make me crazy. All the time, also right this moment, home, in my bedroom, I'm forced to listen that tapping noise as my neighbor's child has one. Though I'm not alone hating them. Also other neighbor's dog hates them. He barks. I just curse in my mind where all the silence in the world has gone.

One night in Prizren

The title may be a bit misleading. It was only a half an hour adventure and we made it to the hotel before 21:30. Alcohol was not involved either.

I was in a coordinating team in SALTO SEE's study visit in Kosovo, in this case in Peja, Klina and Prizren. After Peja and Klina, we arrived in Prizren, accommodated in a hotel, went to the youth center to eat flia. After dinner, participants headed to the city center to continue evening but the coordinating team decided to have a meeting and join the others later (at 21:00, to be sharp).

The meeting took longer than we originally thought, as we started to have ridiculous problems with a really small practical matter. Discussion went further and further and at one point everyone was just laughing and laughing. At the end, we found a simple solution to our problem. It was time to join the others. Except... a couple of people decided to stay at the office, and as it was raining and we being tired, me and D. decided to go to the hotel.

As mentioned, it was raining. We didn't know where the hotel was located (except that it was quite far away) so a local guy promised to call a taxi for us. But then his friend Arijon was leaving to same direction and was supposed to take us.This guy left to meet the others and me and D. went outside to wait Arijon and his car. We stood under my umbrella, waiting. Waiting. Waiting. And at exactly same moment started laughing. It was clear that our driver had vanished.

We still standing outside and laughing, a boy who has been inside the building approaches us. We ask if he is Arijon. He doesn't speak English a lot, just a few words, but it's clear that he's not our driver. I'll try to explain the situation to him with my rusty Albanian, D. tries if he speaks Serbian. I put almost all my existing vocabulary there and yet he doesn't seem to get it. And of course he doesn't - he works for TV, not the organization we were visiting. They just happen to work in the same building.

The TV-boy leaves, and D. decides it's time for us to call a taxi. Of course we don't know any taxi company, so we go inside to search for the TV-boy. He seems to have vanished too. We split up and look for him everywhere. Finally he comes out from one room, next to the office we had our meeting. We ask him to call a taxi as he can explain where it should come. There's a lot of confusion when we don't have any strong common language, but finally it seems to be solved and taxi coming.

Both me and D. realize that we don't remember the name of the hotel. D. opens the door to the office to ask from our colleague who stayed there working. Immediately the same idea pops in our heads and we start laughing hysterically - all the time we tried to speak with the TV-boy there has been an Albanian speaker right behind the door! We can't stop laughing but manage to ask the hotel's name. We go out and the taxi comes. We hop in and tell our destination. The taxi driver is a young guy, he asks D. where we are from. D. tells his origin, I mention being from Finland. And the guy starts speaking Finnish! He tells that he lived in Espoo and worked in Helsinki for one year, in Eerikin Pippuri. I don't know the company but smile widely. He pronounces it perfectly. We arrive at the hotel. Kiitos. Hyvää yötä!

Not just anyone.

Sometimes - not too often though - you just meet someone that you feel to have connection with from the very first second you met. Someone who you constantly notice doing things you would do (and not only would, but you do), and those things fascinate you. Such as talking to bees - patiently explaining to them that no, it's not their food, would you please leave. Or jumping to puddles. Or catching raindrops with tongue. And you would do the same.

Except you won't. Not this time. Because you are so attracted by this other person you forget who you truly are and start acting like and idiot. Like start to slobber for example. That someone must feel the same connection that you do, right? Right?

Encounters 2

I went to the same hostel. I met him again. No one had used the opera tickets. It's Sunday evening and markets are closed. I'm planning to hunt some food and ask some directions. He is just leaving home and offers to show me a couple of places. We talk more on the way. He tells about the cat who sits in hostel's garden. I laugh. He seems to be a really nice guy. We reach the place and he helps to order as the language is weird for me. He asks when I'm leaving. Tomorrow morning, early, I will go home to Kosovo. He won't come to work before I leave.

Maybe we will meet again some day. I eat and start walking back to the hostel, smiling. I still don't know his name.

Encounters

Breakfast. The guy working in the hostel shows me how to make coffee (by the way, why didn't I ask at least his name?). We start to talk, and he tells me that he is always afraid when hearing any Nordic person is in the hostel. Recently a Swedish guy committed a suicide in one of the rooms and this guy found him. He shows me the door to the sealed room.

He also asks me when I'm leaving and where heading, because.... he has two opera tickets to Jakme but he can't go. Dammit! I haven't been in any opera or ballet for a long time. We talk a little more and he tells that his father is an opera singer. Shoot! Still I haven't asked his name. He asks mine (to keep the record of the people staying in the hostel). I hurry to meet some people in the center, he is also leaving home. We say goodbyes, and I tell him that I'm coming back in a few days so maybe we will see again. Or maybe not.