"From another land's war-torn corners..." or "I'm balancing history books up on my head..." or "It was the myth of fingerprints. I've seen them all, and man they're all the same."

The independent traveling portion of my trip has officially come to a close. I’m now about to begin the last leg of my trip—Italy with my mom and sister—and I could not be more excited about it. I’ll blog about that next time (once it’s happened), though. Until then, I’ve spent the last couple of weeks traveling in three former Yugoslavian countries.

As with Bulgaria, Burma/Myanmar, the UAE, and others, the former Yugoslavian countries that I have been traveling in have been an extremely pleasant surprise on this trip because I harbored no expectations whatsoever for them. From Greece, I traveled to Skopje, the small capital of Macedonia. The old town really resonates with its Ottoman past: cobbled streets, cafes, old mosques, etc. My guesthouse in Skopje, Hostel Hostel (clever name, I know), was fantastic. It had a peaceful garden, the owner was an aging Macedonian hippie who loved to socialize and took good care of his guests, and the other travelers staying there provided great company.

Huge statue of Alexander the Great, a Macedonian, in Skopje.

The Mother Theresa Museum (she, too, is Macedonian)

The old town of Skopje.

The garden of Hostel Hostel, Skopje.

After Skopje, I headed to Pristina, the capital of the newly-Christened nation of Kosovo. I must say that my knowledge of Kosovo’s history is extremely lacking, but I vaguely knew about U.S. troop involvement under Clinton and about some sort of ethnic refugee situation. I learned more about this once in the country, but I’ll get to that later. I visited Pristina with two guys I met in Skopje, one from England and one from Belgium, and we had a blast. The locals were extremely friendly. On our first night there, we ended up going out with a few local people, and the next night we met up with them again. As I’ve said elsewhere in this blog, meeting people is truly the best part of traveling, particularly when it’s friendly locals. They loved hanging out with Europeans and an American, and we thoroughly enjoyed their company. We had a couple of great nights with them.

Finally, I headed to Tirana, the capital of Albania. Although it’s a very cool city, there’s not much to do in Tirana, so I basically spent the whole 5 days bumming around and waiting for my flight to Rome.

There’s a reason I did not blog about all of these places individually, and it’s because they all have something in common. As I said before, the breakup of Yugoslavia in the 90s is something I don’t know much about at all. I have cloudy notions about conflicts in Serbia, Bosnia, Kosovo, and elsewhere, but I could not tell you any specifics. The point is that all of these countries have very serious troubles (even genocides, in the case of Kosovo) in their very recent pasts. I sort of expected these pasts to manifest as I traveled through these countries. Certainly, they did. The drab architecture and apartment blocks make the recent Communist eras feel like a reality. The locals in Kosovo (young people) had all been directly affected by the war with Serbia in one way or another. In fact, one day we stumbled upon a hunger strike in progress in Pristina. Veterans of the war for independence were voicing their grievances and asking for benefits from the national government. We sat and spoke to them for a little while, and hearing their stories was a pretty amazing experience. They seemed to appreciate our solidarity.

It’s not that these countries are ignoring the wars, conflicts, and dictators of the past—far from it. They are fully aware of their wounds, but they have chosen to pick themselves up from the dust. I spent the least amount of time in Pristina (only 3 days), but it was one of the best experiences that I’ve had on this trip. We went out drinking and dancing with the locals we met, and it drove home the point that the cultural differences between people are, at the end of the day, pretty negligible. Through broken English, traveler’s charades, and translated Dutch via our Belgian friend, we really seemed to connect with Egzona, Labianta, and Arlind in Kosovo. During the war, they had all been displaced as refugees to different parts of Europe. Now, back in their home, they were enjoying their newfound independence in the way any youth culture would: drinks and nightclubs. We really had a blast with them.

However, all of these places (Skopje, Pristina, and Tirana) are quickly shaking off their troubled pasts in different ways, particularly when it comes to young people. Skopje is quaint and peaceful. Pristina, probably the best example of this, is buzzing with bars and nightclubs, and the local youth are eager to talk about their recent independence (Kosovo just became a nation in 2008). There are still UN peacekeeping vehicles rolling through the streets of Pristina, but people are actively trying to move on with their lives and begin a brighter chapter in their history.

In Tirana, the city has implemented a huge program to paint vibrant art on the sides of huge ex-Communist apartment blocks. It’s one of the most creative ways of healing the past, and it really makes the city come to life.

United Nations vehicle in Kosovo.



Photos of the dead and missing from the war, lining the streets of Pristina.



Veteran of Kosovo's war for independence, recently finishing  a hunger strike.

More veterans, camping outside of a government building in Kosovo.

Friends in Kosovo.

Arlind (Kosovo) and Aba (England).

Bright colors on ex-Communist apartments.

More.

Colorful.

Again.

Cool.

Painting buildings and building bars might seem like a superficial way of dealing with such entrenched tragic histories, but it didn’t feel that way to me. In a way, it’s the best and most healthy way to move forward. They are acting the same way most people would act in similar circumstances: taking note of the past, and then putting it behind them. This shouldn’t be very shocking. After all, people are people are people. I was in a crowded bar with a blaring rap soundtrack, hearing a Kosovo Albanian discuss the tension with Serbia, when I realized: this seems like the most human way to cope.

“Be well, do good work, and keep in touch.”


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