your *free* dose of liz :: kosovo

Birthday dinner at the French Camp

I will always remember my 35th birthday dinner at the French Military Camp in Kosovo.

Arriving there felt like arriving at a french colonial outpost. 200 meters from the camp signs in French appeared like L'ecole, Ici on parle francais, and Bonjour! Bienvenu, ici est le grand boutique. A large Lacoste sign was pasted to the concrete exterior of the 'boutique'.

At the gate stood a number of soldiers smoking cigarettes and kicking the dirt. The guards, while very friendly and welcoming, wore full military garb with machine guns in hand. The dusty road felt peaceful but with a certain duty.

After parking the car, we got badges from the moroccan security officer and set out on our way to the restaurant on a road flanked with chicken wire and tanks. At the miniature Tour Eiffel, I started teasing to Xav that I had to get my birthday in a spot between the tanks and tower, but he recommended not to, that pictures were probably forbidden. So on we walked another 200 meters, and I realized my badge was gone!

What to do but turn around and retrace our steps? The problem was, the badge was nowhere to be found. We walked all the way back to the gate, where a series of broken french conversation ensued.

Guard: Qu'est-ce que le problem? Avez-vu trouve le resto?
Xavier: Mais non, elle a laisse tomber la badge.
Guard: Quoi?
Xavier: Elle l'a detruit...
Broken french between guards continues, resulting in a husky soldier walking us back to the site of the crime.

We didn't find the badge. The three of us walked back to the guard booth and more conversation broke out. This resulted in a radio call to the Major, who was apparently not too pleased with the commotion. According to X the moroccan guard's french was not very precise, as he convoluted the story to the Major by using 'I' (je) in place of 'she'(elle) so the Major thought his soldier was the one to lose the badge - Imagine a soldier radioing his boss to tell him 'I lost the badge, I lost the badge!"

Finally I was issued a new tag and we said our thanks to the confused Major and the guards. We were off.

For the third time we set off down the bunny trail, this time making it all the way...to the French Economat Service Canteen. Yummy. We walked in to a barren room with 5 of 120 tables filled with soldiers, a dead food smell hanging in the air, and a counter lady smiling politely when Xavier announced nous avons un reservation pour deux..

A chef-looking man came out and humbly pointed us to the gastro. There we were, walking down Rue de la France with a fake french street corner complete with street lamps, a fake french rooftop jutting into the room and neighborhood signs. That's not where we ate, but it set the tone for an unusual gastronomic experience.

The restaurant was set up for about 15 tables, all beautifully prepared but empty. We opted to sit outside so they carried a dinner table out to the terrace where the aluminum tables were filled with soldiers.  We had the only table with a white tablecloth, I was the only women, and we were the only people in plain clothes.

In the end, the atmosphere was militarily pleasant, dinner was delicious and we had a really nice time complete with a game of chess (it was a draw). In the end, the badge had been picked up by someone and returned to the gate while we were experiencing fine french cuisine right here in Kosovo. A few waves and bonne-soirees and we were off, back to the bright lights, big city of downtown Pristina.

Thanks X!
 

Life at the Hipermarket

After having numerous conversations with X and others about the local economy and lack of ability to create a local income (the import/export dynamic is seriously disproportionately import-oriented), X and I visited the Hipermarket after dinner last night, and it dawned on me... Kosovo could become the largest producer of gag gifts in Europe! Products at the Hipermarket ranged from little body-builder men lighters to gun lighters, to Go Gay hair spray to model motorcycles emblazoned with the US flag. There it was, under one roof, everything you never needed!

The second part of our visit focused on the downstairs floor - the food section. I was flabberghasted to see chicken parts strewn throughout a freezer, mixed into a kind of medley with the frozen pastries. Also shocking were the freezer burned fish thrown directly into the freezer. For a large fish (think: larger than a bread basket, smaller than a 2 year old child), the cost was 2,10. Cheap, yes...fresh, as X would like to think, NO! The chickens that were wrapped came from Korea. I'm so glad I'm a vegetarian.

Dinner in Kolasin

As mentioned in my previous post, on Sunday night X and I had dinner with two Kosovar born men who were born in the mid-60's. One now holds a Croatian passport, the other a UK passport. Both left for 7 or so years during the war, to come back to a place that barely resembles the Kosovo they once knew. As children, they grew up during the years of relative  Yugoslav prosperity under Tito. They went to school with Serbs, felt safe in their village and had no idea their lives would forever change under Milošević.

Topics throughout the evening ranged from skiing (of which both are passionate and fearless) to the war to the current political climate and the staggering amount of corruption and poverty, which make it difficult for either to imagine an independent country status for Kosovo anytime soon.

Among special interest was conversation covering Ramush Haradinaj, the ex-prime minister of Kosovo indicted for war crimes at the Hague who is currently released pending his trial in 2007. Until a few days ago, Ramush was X's neighbor, living in a huge but garish home on the hill with, from what I saw during a power cut, a few powerful generators. Rumour has it that Ramush is the 'godfather' of Kosovo, not only involved in severely crooked activities, but the one who is actually politically in charge behind the scenes.

While we are no longer his neighbors, to date his name has come up more than any other Kosovar's in conversation. I hope I get the chance to bump into him in town before his pending trial set for sometime early 2007. 

Time for dinner and my evening intake of cucumber and tomato. I've eaten more of these two vegetables during the past week than in my lifetime. Luckily, I find it pretty tasty!