"It was never about religion"
“It was never about religion..”
Election day in Kosovo got to an early start, with me rolling out of the rack at about 0200 hours. I was to go with some friends to informally observe the elections process in the Viti / Vitini area.
It was foggy, really foggy. Kosovo roads aren’t fun in broad daylight. Luli recounted seeing the old movie “The Fog” and we began to jointly create terrifying scenarios of the adventures we were about to experience in the dreary morning. Somehow we arrived at the conclusion we would be stopped and attacked by undead pirates as the fog enveloped us, which left Luli and I laughing at our silly imaginations. Tammy was shaking her head and asked, “Pirates? Pirates?” Leave it to Tammy to overlook the fact they were undead and zero in on their occupation. She truly cracks me up.
We arrived at about 0420 hours, the streets bathed in light from KFOR generator / light systems. Only 2 of the 10 streetlights in the European “roundabout” in the city center worked. The placed was packed with cars and people, even at that hour. Most milled about the Cultural Center, getting ready to deliver ballots to outlying villages. The Cultural Center itself speaks of the old Yugoslavian way, a carbon copy of the same Cultural Center in Kacinik, many kilometers away. These buildings are solidly designed for function over form, having a movie auditorium in the center and multi-functional rooms flanking.
Two hours after my initial cup, the coffee I had drunk was making its way south and I needed to find a toilet. So did Tammy. We went inside the center to discover much of the lighting did not work or was without power. Bathrooms are always a culture shock for me. Each one seems to be in greater disrepair than the last, the stench of urine and feces more overpowering than the last. Tammy ventured into the darkness of the unisex toilet. I refused to follow her lead; I could smell it from several feet away. She came out later, saying she had seen worse.
Outside we found over fifty KPS officers being directed, presumably, by the Viti / Vitini station commander. Their orders were to escort the ballots from the hub to the polling stations in the villages. This they did and did it well, despite the start-stop chaos and confusion in these wee hours. By the time most had left, I knew we too would be leaving to observe at some 20 polling stations throughout the area. I had the choice of trying to wait or to use the facilities before we hit the road. I grabbed my flashlight from my backpack and headed into the center.
The flashlight was purchased at Wal-Mart before I left the US. It has 3 sources of light, one red, one blue LED, and a standard krypton bulb. Once inside the bathroom, I tried the red. Bad idea. The red glow gave the decayed and unkempt fixtures a Dawn of The Dead feel. I tried the blue, which was actually worse. The porcelain fixtures and tiles glowed in a vile, nightmare hue of blue. I resigned to the yellow-white light of the krypton and found a urinal with no trash in front of it. Fortunately the water valve was stuck open and it seemed to have the least amount of ammoniac odor. When I got back to the van I told Tammy I understood how it was that she had seen worse, it was because the lights were out in this one.
Off we went, following the directions of Luli. We found our local KPS guy, Memit, who began to plan the trip for the rest of the day. He scheduled our route and stops for the morning. We went to a ton of places, following paved and unpaved back roads. I’m still amazed at the definition Kosovars use for a road. Most appear to be little more than poorly kept dirt driveways, but they connect villages and cities. Periodically you will have to stop and wait for a tractor pulling a trailer or a horse drawn cart. Most find it irritating but I’m still at the phase where I think it’s terribly cute and bucolic.
One of the villages we visited, Stubell, had a huge, Catholic church in the center of it. The polling station was a fair distance away and I did not have the chance to visit it. I know Albania was at one time nearly all Catholic, right up until the Ottomans invaded. They brought with them Islam, departing from Rome and Orthodoxy. I was able to visit another village though that sported two Catholic churches, one of which I visited and photographed.
As I went about with the camera, I spoke to the KPS officer that guided us. In his broken English he explained the war with Serbia was “never about religion”, that it was about nationalism. Kosovo was Kosovo. The message and evidence of the church untouched by war stayed with me for days. A week later I would hear the words echoed over a holy dinner.
Julie, Jerry and I were invited to Iftar, ( http://islam.about.com/library/glossary/bldef-iftar.htm ) the evening meal breaking the fast of Ramadan each day. It was at the private home Julie had stayed at last year, and the one Jerry stayed at now. I met the entire family and enjoyed the most amazing meal I have eaten since arriving in Kosovo. Conversation was difficult with the language barrier, having no language assistant at hand. The oldest son of the family, Nick, spoke a little English though, and we were able to get along.
I spoke with Nick, asking him his perspective of Kosovo and the future, his schooling at the University in Prishtina, and the general state of affairs. He was bright and articulate, and I was happy to find myself agreeing with him regarding the nation’s status. He was also an ethical man, saying the Serbian population deserved the same kinds of freedoms and rights as all Kosovars. He noted that economics, not European politics, would be most effective to resolve Kosovo strife.
Nick also spoke about religion, of Islam Vs. other religions. He reminded me Islam was brought to Kosovo by an invader and the religion was regarded well, but there were very few qualified fanatics here as in the Middle East. He told me, “For Kosovars, what you believe is your problem.”
posted by Whitedeer | 1:05:00 PM
