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Final Guest Blog: UNT Professors in Kosovo Days 7 and 8

Jun 19, 2010

Day Seven in Kosovo:

It’s a Sunday and Burim has helped us to rent a car and driver to travel to nearby Decani monastery for the morning. We traveled only a few blocks before our driver inquired whether we were Serbian. Despite the language barrier, the question was clear and we quickly assured him we are Americans. Although located in Kosovo, the monastery belongs to the Serbian Orthodox Church and is guarded by KFOR due to the continuing tension between Serbs and Albanians. Although we never felt in danger, we couldn’t help but notice the numerous bullet holes in the guard station and the gravity of the situation was apparent as we relinquished our passports and assurance of

identity. Founded in the 13^th century, the monastery carries a rich history and amazing frescos line all of the walls and ceilings in the church. The threshold at the entrance is worn down in the middle by at least 8 inches from centuries of foot traffic. Looking up at the cupola, it’s easy to see why so many have come and we are awe-struck.

While admiring the monk’s handiwork for sale in the souvenir shop we are approached by American soldiers who overhear us talking to one another. The soldiers are all physicians serving at a camp about 3 hours away. As we chat with soldier Yoder from Ohio, an orthopedic surgeon, he encourages us to stay safe and makes sure that we haven’t been drinking the water and know to dump ice from our glasses before drinking. He notes that if we find ourselves in need of medical care that we should come to the base or travel to Prizen and ask the Germans for help. Nurses in Kosovo have only a high school education and manage entire wards alone. People die every day of conditions that are treatable, because resources and training are not available. We recall that of the 140 kids we saw in the music class at Skivjan, only one child was wearing glasses. Certainly many more were in need, but eye exams and glasses are rarely available. Dental care is considered a luxury, even if it’s an emergency situation.

We are very lucky to be invited to spend the afternoon with one of the teen volunteers, Fortessa, and her family. Fortessa translates for us and we learn a great deal of the hardships, including daily beatings, faced by her father while imprisoned for providing food to Albanian soldiers. Her father was imprisoned for nearly 2 years after the war yet the family consider themselves fortunate because he was not killed and ultimately returned home. Although we cannot understand what Fortessa’s father says to her, the affection in his voice and demeanor come through loud and clear. We are heartbroken for her when we learn that within just a few years of being reunited with her father, Fortessa’s mother died. Despite all of the tragedies Fortessa has faced, we notice that what is most remarkable about her is not the adversities.

What we notice most about Fortessa is that underneath a slightly shy presentation, she is exceptionally smart. She earns perfect marks in school and is enrolled at the most competitive high school in Gjakove (the children are routed to different public high schools based on aptitude). She dreams of attending university and becoming a pharmacist, but knows that this will be difficult. There are no schools in Kosovo to train pharmacists and her family does not have the financial means to send her internationally for her education. It will be a great loss to Gjakove if Fortessa is not provided with the opportunity to show what she is capable of; she has the ability to make a difference and bring a much needed professional service to her community. As we talk with other teenagers we hear similar stories.

Durim graduates in the next couple of weeks and also has the aptitude to become whatever he would like in life. Although the resources are absent, he remains hopeful that somehow he may become a dentist. Vigan is graduating as well and demonstrates a great deal of talent as a musician. He sounds less hopeful about the future though. He recognizes that although music has changed his life in post-war Kosovo there is no place for a music educator in the Kosovo educational system. He considers finance to be a more realistic career, but he too is trapped by a lack of resources to obtain even his second choice goal.

In the US, children with such high aptitudes would be comparing financial aide offers to make a selection about which school to go to. Yet, these children are faced with having done their best, showing the ability to be successful, and having no means to move forward. Despite the war being long over the consequences hit every single day. The potential evident in this coming of age generation is effectively being squelched.

Day Eight in Kosovo:

It’s time to say goodbye. We each take our own journeys back to America, on slightly different time schedules. However, we all start at about the same time. We leave the house at 2 am after less than 2 hours sleep for any one of us. Burim is clearly going way beyond the call of duty to drive us the 90 minutes to the airport in the middle of the night. The roads of Kosovo were heavily bombed and have still not been rebuilt in many places. This road in particular is cumbersome with major construction underway. If not for our complete trust in Burim, we would assume we were (1) not on a road at all, and (2) lost.

Jennifer bravely clocks the journey out as she makes her way home to Texas. More than 30 hours in transit pass before she walks through her own front door. After a few hours of rest it’s time to go to the kennel and pick up the cat and dog. As she paid her bill she did a quick conversion in her head. It would take an entire year of welfare payments for an unemployed Kosovan to pay the kennel bill.  An entire year.