By Thomas Litan
Time flies when
you spend your days hearing inspiring, touching and conflicting stories. It
seems only yesterday that we, still recovering from a week of a seemingly
never-ending intake of information on Balkan history and the different groups
and communities that inhabit the area, embarked on this journey and boarded the
plane to Kosovo.
My first week here
has been characterised by a number of common household items: toilet paper,
water bottles, tissues and hay fever pills. Yes, unfortunately the pollen of
Kosovo decided to rise up against a foreign visitor and set out on a mission to
destroy his vision. And indeed, I have spent all this time observing the
wonders and delights of Kosovo through red, watery eyes and a nose in need of
constant emptying as a useful distraction. They were aided by their close
allies, namely the weather and the programme, which meant we were outside most
of the time.
Thankfully, the
rain in the last two days has cleared away this obstacle, allowing me to once
again seek out what I came to do here, namely to observe, listen and understand
(key word of the week).
Sunday's trip took
us to the southern city of Prizren, which serves as an example of the ideal
future of Kosovo: several religious communities living together peacefully. A
city where the river serves as a place for an ideal get-together for lunch
instead of the main border between two communities who fear, and sometimes even
hate, each other; where the bridges have names and stories (some related to
love) instead of a function as a closed and walled physical barrier between two
worlds; where Serbian Orthodox churches and Islamic mosques are only a
one-minute walk away from each other. A stark contrast to Mitrovica, where the
divisions are still clearly visible in both rhetoric and reality. Quite
different, too, from Pristina, where the cosmopolitanism seems to leave little
time to reflect on such occurrences.
When one bothers
to take the steep climb to the Kalaja (the fortress overlooking the city),
taking care to make a stop at the Church of St. Saviour halfway, one is able to
observe the city and see exactly that: just one city. The myriad of houses, the
30 or so minarets that tower above them and the gentle river flowing through
its centre. The winding streets full of shops and the tourists which frequent
them. The traffic making its way through the city, going in different
directions. There are no divisions, no striking tensions. As the tour guide
explained, Prizren hosts very different people, but they all manage to live in
peace, side by side, as neighbours.
Maybe this is an
overly optimistic rendering of the situation, but it still seems as if this
city could serve as an example of how those who believe in one Kosovar nation
see their ideal society: Kosovo Albanians, Kosovo Serbs, Catholics, Serbian
Orthodox and Muslims living next to each other, sharing the space. Throughout
the week, I've heard many people discuss the tensions in Kosovo society, the
sad remnants of a war that is still all too fresh in the memory of the people.
Some do not easily forgive and forget, meaning their future is still
pre-determined by events which took place nearly 20 years ago. They talk about
'the other' as if they have forgotten that they share a common bond with
Kosovo.
Despite the
sometimes unenviable conditions these people live in, what I found striking is
that many have no plans to leave the country (regardless of the introduction of
visa-free travel as a result of the visa liberalisation process). Instead, many
wish to use their pride of Kosovo to help improve and build Kosovo society,
mostly through aligning themselves with several projects. Minorities wish to
raise awareness and augment respect for their rights, community leaders wish to
unite the people and emphasise similarities rather than differences,
governments are passionate about the European project, believing earnestly that
it will benefit their people. In short, many people wish to make a true
difference, in big or small ways.
Wouldn't it be
perfect if the rest of Kosovo could use this format as an example? While every
community may have its own language, religious and cultural customs and its own
norms and values, a shared pride of Kosovo and a desire to make life better in
the region binds all of them. If everyone were to cross the bridge instead of
blocking it and decide to live together, side by side, as neighbours, how much
could these young and energetic people accomplish? Making a change begins in
small ways, but a lot of people making such small changes can one day lead to a
grand, ground-breaking change.
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