"Don't try this at home"

Kosovo #13: Three Kosovan-ism phrases

A few phrase "isms" that I've observed over the past few days:

"step-by-step": a common life phrase to describe the passage of time and the life journey between key milestones.

"Blah blah": they blah blah (with added hand gestures to signify talking) used to describe gossip. It was generally a negative.

"What to do?": a rhetorical expression of exclaiming "its out of my hands" or usually following an explanation of a dilemma or overwhelming problem. 

Kososvo #12: do you have his mother's permission

Most weeks there's a permission slip request from school for one of the boys. Usually it's a fairly simple process.

I was caught off guard at Pristina airport at the passport control when the policeman asked whether I had permission from the boy's mother to travel. 

There are a number of ways that I could have handled this. But the one I chose was, maybe not the best either, a vacant stare at the policeman completely lost for words for all of those few seconds before I blurt out "I'm his father!"

He looks at me. He looks down at Caleb. 

A pause.

My mind is wrestling with whether I should say something or not. 

He looks again and waves us through .

Trafficking children is still a big problem. The family we will be staying with had one of their children "given for adoption" during the post war period.

One group I worked with said that it's the airlines and their staff that "just know" who are being taken and they are powerless to intervene.

Caleb and I walk through hand in hand to get our baggage.

Kosovo #11: Rahovec

Around 14 years ago Ray came to this Roma colony and met Suzana and her family.

Hers was the first house he visited.

He's been friends with them ever since. It was powerful hearing from Ray and Aferdita (Suzana's daughter) the stories over the years. A lot has happened to them. Ray is inbetween chemo treatments and timed this particular visit to Kosovo, with us, to fit in.

Someone like Ray was friends with my family when they were thrown out of their country Uganda in 1972.

When Aferdita tries to pay tribute to him (which is quite a few times), Ray is very quick to not take any praise and give thanks and credit to God. 

 

Kosovo #10: at the reservoir with friends

Kosovo #9: call me Roberto Carlos

I still recall seeing that banana free kick against France at around the half way mark that former Brasil left back and free kick specialist Roberto Carlos swung both out and then in to the back of the net in 1997. I recall trying to practise that for ages.

Today I got invited to play football here in Gjakova. I was introduced, referred to whilst playing as Roberto Carlos. I even had a selfie taken as a result.

Shame I couldn't strike the ball like him.

Kosovo #8: playing blind

I was taught how the blind play chess. (And knit!)

My friend Shiape (the fifth best chess player in all Kosovo) kindly showed me. He was less enthusiastic about the knitting!

Kosovo #7: the widows

Her children were denied to travel through a person's land to get to school. They had to therefore venture through a river to get there. Sometimes the river was a few inches high. Sometimes much more.

Her house backs on to this river. Currently there's a truck there and lots of rubbish floating around the edge. The tied up dog is also barking away.

We arrive armed with a few supplies of flour, meat, sugar, a tray of eggs, soap and other few items.

Upon arrival she shares about her high blood pressure and Ray says we'll get her some medicine.

She's a widow.

Kosovo #6: From a crumbling home to building a new one

This man proudly shows us around his home that he is building. It's about 18 months from completion I was told.

It is next to his current crumbling one.

Kosovo #5: Blessed are the peacemakers

306  students.

We're in a primary school. The Head ushered us into his office and lady comes in delivering coffee one by one.

This school has been here since 1981. 35 years old. This Head has only been since 1996. This is actually quite a feat as his contract lasts 2 years before renewal. He's clearly good at his job as the last renewal was given without his consent.

He's not complaining.

He shares passionately about his students whilst his colleague finds a text book that he gives especially to Caleb.

He starts off by saying: "... y'know there was a war here sixteen years ago"

It's hard to stop a man midflow from here.

He goes on to share about the mixes of students including a 75 from the Roma communities and his acute desire to integrate people from all walks of community to encourage the future generation to feel and know that there are no barriers between people and races. A man with a dream.

His particular requests to us is to help to build a computer room and particularly for a disabled girl. A wheelchair to help the ten year old get to school. Currently her grandmother pushes her 2km every day here.

As we finish listening he asks Caleb which class he is in. Caleb says Year 5. He says let's go meet our Year 5s.

After 16 years peace making comes in the form of a place of learning that is desperately trying to ensure its students learn in inclusive environments.