Kosovo
At around 10am the lazy day would start. I’d glance out the window, if the sun was shining the city center would be bustling with people, the mountains behind would shimmer with wet green grass. With a jolt the rickety closet of an elevator suspended by ancient Yugoslavian cables would bring us down to the street. A minute’s walk and we were at our coffee place.
Usually our friend Erdis would be there, sitting at an outside table along the river. He’d wave us over. The manager would yell our order to the barista when he’d see us walking up. Nothing was ever in a hurry, but eventually two absolutely perfect macchiatos would appear. Kosovo is famous for these - the best in the world. The espresso is phenomenal, but the secret is the milk, it’s just so perfectly foamy. Even as all the coffee is gone, a delicious layer of foam remains, scooped up with a stirring stick.
We’d chat about nothing as not much would have changed since we did this routine the morning before. Not only did the manager know our order, he knew for the second round we’d normally switch to espresso. Other tables would chat, friends strolled by, and more people sat down. Before long two hours have passed, and I’d pay: 70 cents a piece.
Prizren is a great place for us to relax, to live a retirement style life with no worries and nothing to do; but Kosovo is not such a great place to actually live. Part of me feels bad, everyone wants to get out, and yet I keep coming back. Unemployment is high, and the government until recently has been filled with war heroes turned greedy corrupt politicians. One time an outgoing local government sold the cobblestones of the city’s 500 year old streets to rich people in France. The money of course disappeared. A new life in Europe or America is the dream for most of the people we met, but Kosovo still isn’t fully recognized as a country, and visas for them are almost impossible.
German police found a group of criminal scammers operating out of Kosovo. The government agreed to send those involved to Germany. Hundreds of Kosovars commented online, things like, “Take Me!” and “Please take me too!”
There is hope. We saw a new President sworn in, an American educated lawyer, a woman. We watched as she made changes in her first days to modernize the country, to end corruption, to make Serbia answer for their ethnic cleansing...and of course to make Kosovo actually follow some Corona restrictions.
And so we entered two weeks of lockdown, which really just meant no malls, restaurants, or cafes. It was fine. So much of Kurdistan, Turkey, Bosnia, Serbia, and Kosovo all have the same Ottoman inspired food. We were glad to have an excuse to try to cook on our one pan hotplate. Our refrigerator was a small Red Bull marketing refrigerator, sized for two cans. It didn’t matter, we’d go shopping just for what we needed that day: to the guy at vegetable market for oranges, another stand for fresh eggs, and to the old ladies at the Wednesday market for Ziploc bags of tea leaves. Meat of course only came from the most famous butcher in town, and bread from the bakery next door. Everything was so fresh, so delicious, and so much cheaper than Publix or Krogers.
Coffee, well that was still normal, as our favorite spot just replaced their outdoor tables and chairs with stacked plastic crates and cushions.
Kosovo must be the only place in the world that called for a two week lockdown, and actually opened back up after two weeks.
During our month plus stay we watched winter end with one last blizzard, and our last days were 70 degrees with a sunburn. I rode my bicycle a lot. In the villages kids would stand in the street to give high fives as if I was in the Tour de France. Nikki would take a bus and meet me in another city for lunch and cake. Lots of cake. I’d ride home on a different route exploring the beautiful country, through vineyards, mountains, and just great scenery.
Most cities in Kosovo have a few souvenir shops near historic churches and old mosques, but there are very few foreign tourists. Everyone would smile and get excited when they’d see us. We weren’t really tourists, we were guests. And that was before they found out that I’m an American. I think it’s safe to say there is nowhere as pro-America as Kosovo. There is a George Bush street, a statue of Bob Dole, and so many tributes to Bill Clinton, even a Hillary pantsuit store and the Joseph R. "Beau" Biden III National Road. Kosovars feel like we didn’t just help them, but that their country exists because of America. During the Kosovo War from 1998-1999, Serbia expelled 850,000 Kosovo Albanians, another 13,000 died. Bill Clinton said Kosovo deserves to be an independent country, and we lead a NATO campaign against Serbia, stopping the war.
During a bus strike, out of options, we stood alongside the highway trying to hitchhike. It wasn’t long before we were offered a ride. The man drove us out of his way, through a blizzard, to the other side of the country, and refused any money for gas. Just a Google Translate, “We love America” and a handshake.
At 9:58 PM, the music stopped. Everyone finished their beers and began to head out of the bar. The Corona lockdown was over, but a curfew still remained. As we walked out a man stopped us, "Excuse me guys, I have seen you, a while ago. I thought you were just regular backpackers but..."
We are just backpackers. But I have been to a lot of places around this world, it's not that I haven't found anything similar, I haven't found anywhere that is even close. Visit number three, Prizren, Kosovo is still my favorite.
A perfect finale to this epic world tour.
Read MoreUsually our friend Erdis would be there, sitting at an outside table along the river. He’d wave us over. The manager would yell our order to the barista when he’d see us walking up. Nothing was ever in a hurry, but eventually two absolutely perfect macchiatos would appear. Kosovo is famous for these - the best in the world. The espresso is phenomenal, but the secret is the milk, it’s just so perfectly foamy. Even as all the coffee is gone, a delicious layer of foam remains, scooped up with a stirring stick.
We’d chat about nothing as not much would have changed since we did this routine the morning before. Not only did the manager know our order, he knew for the second round we’d normally switch to espresso. Other tables would chat, friends strolled by, and more people sat down. Before long two hours have passed, and I’d pay: 70 cents a piece.
Prizren is a great place for us to relax, to live a retirement style life with no worries and nothing to do; but Kosovo is not such a great place to actually live. Part of me feels bad, everyone wants to get out, and yet I keep coming back. Unemployment is high, and the government until recently has been filled with war heroes turned greedy corrupt politicians. One time an outgoing local government sold the cobblestones of the city’s 500 year old streets to rich people in France. The money of course disappeared. A new life in Europe or America is the dream for most of the people we met, but Kosovo still isn’t fully recognized as a country, and visas for them are almost impossible.
German police found a group of criminal scammers operating out of Kosovo. The government agreed to send those involved to Germany. Hundreds of Kosovars commented online, things like, “Take Me!” and “Please take me too!”
There is hope. We saw a new President sworn in, an American educated lawyer, a woman. We watched as she made changes in her first days to modernize the country, to end corruption, to make Serbia answer for their ethnic cleansing...and of course to make Kosovo actually follow some Corona restrictions.
And so we entered two weeks of lockdown, which really just meant no malls, restaurants, or cafes. It was fine. So much of Kurdistan, Turkey, Bosnia, Serbia, and Kosovo all have the same Ottoman inspired food. We were glad to have an excuse to try to cook on our one pan hotplate. Our refrigerator was a small Red Bull marketing refrigerator, sized for two cans. It didn’t matter, we’d go shopping just for what we needed that day: to the guy at vegetable market for oranges, another stand for fresh eggs, and to the old ladies at the Wednesday market for Ziploc bags of tea leaves. Meat of course only came from the most famous butcher in town, and bread from the bakery next door. Everything was so fresh, so delicious, and so much cheaper than Publix or Krogers.
Coffee, well that was still normal, as our favorite spot just replaced their outdoor tables and chairs with stacked plastic crates and cushions.
Kosovo must be the only place in the world that called for a two week lockdown, and actually opened back up after two weeks.
During our month plus stay we watched winter end with one last blizzard, and our last days were 70 degrees with a sunburn. I rode my bicycle a lot. In the villages kids would stand in the street to give high fives as if I was in the Tour de France. Nikki would take a bus and meet me in another city for lunch and cake. Lots of cake. I’d ride home on a different route exploring the beautiful country, through vineyards, mountains, and just great scenery.
Most cities in Kosovo have a few souvenir shops near historic churches and old mosques, but there are very few foreign tourists. Everyone would smile and get excited when they’d see us. We weren’t really tourists, we were guests. And that was before they found out that I’m an American. I think it’s safe to say there is nowhere as pro-America as Kosovo. There is a George Bush street, a statue of Bob Dole, and so many tributes to Bill Clinton, even a Hillary pantsuit store and the Joseph R. "Beau" Biden III National Road. Kosovars feel like we didn’t just help them, but that their country exists because of America. During the Kosovo War from 1998-1999, Serbia expelled 850,000 Kosovo Albanians, another 13,000 died. Bill Clinton said Kosovo deserves to be an independent country, and we lead a NATO campaign against Serbia, stopping the war.
During a bus strike, out of options, we stood alongside the highway trying to hitchhike. It wasn’t long before we were offered a ride. The man drove us out of his way, through a blizzard, to the other side of the country, and refused any money for gas. Just a Google Translate, “We love America” and a handshake.
At 9:58 PM, the music stopped. Everyone finished their beers and began to head out of the bar. The Corona lockdown was over, but a curfew still remained. As we walked out a man stopped us, "Excuse me guys, I have seen you, a while ago. I thought you were just regular backpackers but..."
We are just backpackers. But I have been to a lot of places around this world, it's not that I haven't found anything similar, I haven't found anywhere that is even close. Visit number three, Prizren, Kosovo is still my favorite.
A perfect finale to this epic world tour.
