I have the freedom to listen to any music I want

It's starting to be too much. It's already third or fourth day. Every morning, he is waiting me in the corridor. I go down, ready to put my shoes (or still, as it's warm, flip flops) on and there he is.

Or technically he is not there, but I hear his voice. Or actually, I don't hear his voice either, but a specific song starts to play in my head. Always in the corridor, always in the morning and in the morning only. Every morning, David Hasselhoff accompanies me and starts to sing his hit song I've been looking for freedom.

I have to say that the song is not in my list of top-10 favorite songs. I haven't heard it for a long time either. Sometimes, for some weird reasons, some random songs pop up in my head - what to do. But today it started to be too much. I had to find out why it is stuck in my head, why it appears always in the corridor. So I googled the lyrics, desperately trying to find some answers. I read them, and listened to the song. That's the moment when my eyes turned wide open. I don't remember never actually listening to lyrics. But now when I see them it obvious - I've been looking for freedom.

I headed down the track
my baggage on my back
I left the city far behind
walkin' down the road
with my heavy load
tryin' to find
some peace of mind
father said you'll be sorry, son
if you leave your home this way
and when you realize
the freedom money buys
you'll come running home some day

I've been looking for freedom
I've been looking so long
I've been looking for freedom
still the search goes on
I've been looking for freedom
since I left my home town

No matter what, the song is still not in my favorite top-10. Nor in top-50. And actually the lyrics are not so special. Sorry David, I'd prefer to continue looking for my freedom without you, so please, get out from my corridor, thankyouverymuch.

Cafe latte, please... and a brownie

Sweet Bean - an American style coffee house - is my favorite café in Peja. It surely is not a typical one. How come? Five unique facts make it special: 1) This place really is the only café in the city that has non-smoking policy, 2) Music is played with such volume that it's possible to hear what a person next to you says, 3) It also happens to be the only one that sells something to eat with your coffee, american style sweet pastries in this case, 4) They have books and magazines to read, 5) Also girls work there.

Four first points are also the reasons why it has gained the first place in my list of cafés here. Conveniently, it's relatively close to our office. So we go there almost every day. To support local business of course. Not to mention the brownies - they are soooooooo good. If the word devour is created for something specific, that would be for me eating brownies.

P.S. 6) It is the only café that uses metal spoons instead of disposable plastic spoons.

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?

Kosovar etiquette

An example of everyday dialog (usually in Albanian):

- Hi! (kisses to cheeks) How are you? Are you good?

- Yes, good good. And you?

- Good. How are you doing?

- Good, good.

- How is everything going?

- Good.

- Are you tired?

- No, no. It's good.

- Anything new?

- Nothing.

- Why?

- *shrug*

- How's your family?

- Good. They are very good.

...

- How are you?

At this point of discussion my Finnish side feels stupid. Didn't the other side listen at all what I just told?

And my Albanian side? It smiles and replies: good.

Market Day

A sunny September Saturday in Peja. What to do? Let's go to Green Market.

So we went there with my friend. We walked through the bazaar, so it was one big market all the way to greens. Handcrafts, flags, music (even C-cassettes 0,50€!), clothes, traditional cradles, stoves and grills, tools and spares, chickens, firewood..

As the name indicates, Green Market is a market for green stuff. Such as cabbages. Cauliflowers. Zucchinis. And some vegetables with other colors too. Currently it's a pepper season. Everyone sells them – red, green, slightly orange colored, regular, hot and hotter. The plum season is just about to end and the plums don't taste anymore as good as they used to. Or maybe they are not so good because I didn't buy them from a right person. The watermelon season is passed as well – shame, I really loved that one. So now, enjoy the peppers!

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.