Pics from this morning:
Saturday, October 20, 2007
Saturday Morning
I woke up too late this morning and missed out on the Saturday walks I sometimes take. With the morning light coming later and later, it's tougher and tougher to be out the door by 7am. When I first arrived, the early call to prayer was at 4:30am. Now the minarets aren't going off until 6:20 or so. (I have no idea whether or not Kosovo follows daylight savings time.) Plus, it's chilly. I caught a glimpse of snow on some of the mountains. It may snow down here on Monday (as if walking wasn't treacherous enough as it is!).
Pics from this morning:
Pics from this morning:
Thursday, October 18, 2007
The Pics
Here are a few (hopefully of interest) pictures of my trip to Skopje and Thessaloniki. I wish I had brought my 'real' camera instead of the point-and-shoot, but it was raining when I left Prizren and I didn't want to haul around a larger camera in a downpour.
This was my salty pancake. The crepe part was pretty tasty, but the lunchmeat and mustard filling didn't really float my boat.
Thessaloniki is in no way immune to grafitti, and I think this is my favorite piece from the entire trip:
Thessaloniki also had a few picture-worthy signs, too: A store called Reno; a restaurant called Meat Me; and somebody called Kirsten.
In order to lull myself to sleep one night, I was flipping through the tv channels on offer. The Simpsons are definitely a worldwide phenomenon. I'm surprised that the show was subtitled and not dubbed.
Waiting in line to leave Greece and go into Macedonia. Customs lines are the same everywhere, or so it seems. You wait, and wait, and wait, even if there are only 3 cars ahead of you.
And, finally, the sign for the bus that would take me back into Kosovo. Luckily, I can mostly sound out Macedonian cyrillic, but this particular sign would flit between this and roman letters.
I wanted to upload a few more photos, but, unfortunately, I'm running into Blogger problems. Perhaps next time.
This was my salty pancake. The crepe part was pretty tasty, but the lunchmeat and mustard filling didn't really float my boat.
This is Skopje, Macedonia. I took this from the castle ruins that overlook the town, and this is towards the main downtown area. Up on the hill there is a rather large cross that I haven't had the time to find any information about.
Random graffiti on historical buildings is both intriguing and irksome...more irksome, I think. This was up at the castle ruins.
A few photos of other spray-paintings around town:
Thessaloniki is in no way immune to grafitti, and I think this is my favorite piece from the entire trip:
Thessaloniki also had a few picture-worthy signs, too: A store called Reno; a restaurant called Meat Me; and somebody called Kirsten.
In order to lull myself to sleep one night, I was flipping through the tv channels on offer. The Simpsons are definitely a worldwide phenomenon. I'm surprised that the show was subtitled and not dubbed.
Waiting in line to leave Greece and go into Macedonia. Customs lines are the same everywhere, or so it seems. You wait, and wait, and wait, even if there are only 3 cars ahead of you.
A random road shot in Macedonia. It's unremarkable except for the lack of trash. Were this a road through Kosovo, there would be litter everywhere. Not a little bit of litter, but heaps and heaps of the stuff overflowing into the road. You may think I'm exaggerating, but I'm not.
And, finally, the sign for the bus that would take me back into Kosovo. Luckily, I can mostly sound out Macedonian cyrillic, but this particular sign would flit between this and roman letters.I wanted to upload a few more photos, but, unfortunately, I'm running into Blogger problems. Perhaps next time.
Blog and Website Disclaimer
I received the following email this morning:
Dear Fellows,
The State Department has requested that any Fellows who maintain their own blog or website please post the following disclaimer on your site:"This website is not an official U.S. Department of State website. The views and information presented are the English Language Fellows' own and do not represent the English Language Fellow Program or the U.S. Department of State."
We appreciate your cooperation.
Now there's absolutely no confusion over whether or not I might be representing the views of the English Language Fellow Program or the U.S. Department of State. Heh.
Dear Fellows,
The State Department has requested that any Fellows who maintain their own blog or website please post the following disclaimer on your site:"This website is not an official U.S. Department of State website. The views and information presented are the English Language Fellows' own and do not represent the English Language Fellow Program or the U.S. Department of State."
We appreciate your cooperation.
Now there's absolutely no confusion over whether or not I might be representing the views of the English Language Fellow Program or the U.S. Department of State. Heh.
Monday, October 15, 2007
To Greece and Back
I’ll not lie. It was wonderful to get out of Kosovo for the weekend. I left Prizren Thursday morning at 9am on the last bus out to Skopje for the day. The ride was marred only by two things: the fact that I sat behind the driver and the driver smoked a good portion of the way (he did open his window from time to time, though, and I had a good view of the road), and that the entry stamp in my passport for Macedonia was so light I can’t tell where it’s for. Getting out of the Skopje bus station was a bit irritating as well. I don’t like being chased with a, “Hey, Lady…Lady…Lady! Hey, Lady! Taxi! Taxi, Lady!” Fortunately, I saw a taxi with a non-hassling driver at the wheel and he gave me a ride to my chosen hotel, the Hotel 903-ta.
After I dropped my bags and rinsed my face, I was out the door to do some exploring, to see why Macedonia calls to me. I didn’t have a map, I just went where I thought I should go. The first thing I needed to do was eat. I found the downtown area easily enough. Like Reno, there’s a river running through it: the River Vardar. Walking alongside it, I stopped at a café with enclosed outdoor seating (it was raining) and went in through its plastic doors. I picked a table in a corner and started looking at the menu, which was all in Macedonian Cyrillic. I was sounding out the menu categories when the waiter brought me an English menu. I skimmed it and found that there were sandwiches, pizza, ice cream, sweet pancakes, and salty pancakes. I was going in the direction of a sandwich when I thought, you know, I should try something different… So a salty pancake it was. There were salty pancakes with beef salad; cheese; cheese and pork; chicken; chicken and olives; tuna with mayonnaise; mayonnaise and salad; and a whole host of other options. Continuing in my well, I’ll try something I’ve never tried before method of choosing food, I opted for a salty pancake with magdadena, mustard, and black pepper with a peach juice to drink.
What I ate was a crepe with bologna, a few bits of tomato and lettuce, a dash of pepper, and the whole thing was drowning in mustard. Not just swimming, but drowning. My appetite momentarily plummeted then came back more voraciously. The combination of curiosity and raging hunger drove me to dig in. The mustard wasn’t too overpowering (but the cook must have used half a bottle) and the tomatoes offset the greasy chewiness of the lunchmeat just enough to make it edible. I made a good go of it and finished about half. I sat for a few moments, looking at my salty pancake and trying to decide whether or not I had eaten enough to subside me until dinner and if I should eat a bit more, but my ‘bologna reflex’ kicked in and I decided I couldn’t eat another bite. I paid and set off for the Kale Fortress, which is partial ruins of Justinia Prima, the second city of the Byzantium (at least according to the “In Your Pocket” Guide for Skopje). The ruins are on a hill and from the Kale Fortress, there are pretty nice views over Skopje. By this time it had stopped raining so I walked around the grounds a bit (there’s not a lot to walk around) and headed over to the bazaar to explore.
I walked around the bazaar (mostly restaurant and shops selling jewelry) and headed back into the town center. Somehow I ended up at a shopping mall and the first thing that greeted me when I walked in was a Lush. This made me very happy and I bought a few items and poked around a handful of other shops to see if I could find pants (I didn’t have any luck). A bit tired, I headed back to the hotel and laid down for a quick nap before I met my colleague who was staying in the same hotel (we were travelling to the conference together from Skopje) so that we could have dinner.
Deciding on a dinner destination in an unknown place is fraught with issues. I had a truncated “In Your Pocket” Guide for Skopje that had two good-looking possibilities for Macedonian food. We asked at the reception which might be better, but the woman said that neither were in places good for walking. She directed us to another restaurant closer to the hotel. We dutifully went, but the place was booked (however, no one had yet arrived for their reservations and the restaurant was empty). The waiter told us about a ‘restaurant street’ we could check out, but as we were walking along this street, looking for restaurants, we got a bit sketched out by a group of loud men sitting on a terrace drinking. We turned around, made our way back to the main street, hopped in a cab, and asked him to take us to the Beerhouse An.
Unbeknownst to me, Beerhouse An is located in the bazaar area I had been walking around earlier and is not accessible by taxi. The driver parked in the nearest parking lot and walked us to the restaurant. It was very nice of him to do that and I tipped him rather generously (I don’t even know if one usually tips in Macedonia). Beerhouse An is not a beerhouse but, rather, is a really good Macedonian restaurant. For about $30 I ate until I was stuffed. I had salad (tomato, feta, and lettuce), a main dish (mixed meat kabob with a fabulous vegetable stew), dessert (like a crepe with some type of nut butter inside…the waitress tried to explain it but I didn’t understand), wine, and lots of bread. I practically had to roll myself back to the hotel (we walked). The only downside to our meal was that as we were having dessert, the men at the table next to us started smoking cigars. Yuck.
On Friday morning, we cabbed over to the car rental place, rented a car (some kind of Opel), and were on our way out of Skopje heading south to Thessaloniki. Driving through Macedonia was a breeze. The road was great. There wasn’t much traffic. It was raining slightly, but not enough to cause any issues. Crossing into Greece couldn’t have been easier. The main bummer? My entry stamp for Greece is unreadable. The rest of the drive into Thessaloniki was a piece of cake. The only blip came at the end when I couldn’t find the hotel parking lot and I had to maneuver this big, unfamiliar car down a few back streets and between parked cars. Had we been given anything bigger I would have had serious problems squeezing through some incredibly tight areas.
Thessaloniki was, well…it didn’t speak to me the way Skopje did. The hotel was mediocre. There was a lot of construction going on around the hotel which made it difficult to walk. It was crowded and noisy. Thesslaoniki lacks the calm cosmopolitanism of Skopje. However, by Sunday morning, I had warmed up to Thessaloniki quite a bit. Our dinner on Friday night was tourist-trap junk, but our meal Saturday night was lovely. The hotel didn’t deserve its 4-star rating, but my bathroom did have a usable tub (which I used three times). Additionally, the hotel was just around the corner from a Carrefour super market. I went nuts. I bought oatmeal and canned beans and tea and almonds and cereal bars and peanut butter and whole wheat spaghetti and brown rice and floss and a few other luxuries. That alone made the entire trip worthwhile.
I was mortified when I stopped at a small restaurant and ordered a gyro when the man behind the counter not only stuffed my pita with shaved lamb, onions, tomatoes, and parsley but also added mustard, ketchup, and a few bits of fried potatoes. However, this turned out to be really tasty. Additionally, my colleague and I stumbled onto a really great little bakery with out-of-this-world baklava. We even discovered on Saturday night that there were three Starbucks within a 15-minute walk from the hotel. Before leaving on Sunday I treated myself to a soy mocha. Mmm-mmm.
My presentation, the reason I was in Thessaloniki, went well. The people who attended were interested in my subject matter (I was speaking on a photography project I did with students in Japan using mobile phones) and my 45-minute time slot flew by. The conference overall was interesting and I was able to make a few contacts that might come in handy later on.
Sunday morning came far too quickly (Thessaloniki, I hardly knew ye), and we were off in the car again (no squeezing was necessary to get from the parking garage back to the main street) and on our way back to Skopje. The drive back was uneventful, mostly. I overshot the highway that goes to the border. We stopped when we came to a town neither one of us recognized. I dug the map of Greece out of the trunk and asked a tableful of people at a nearby café where we were and how to get going back towards the border. I ended up on a road paralleling the main highway, which turned out to be a nice scenic alternative. Right before we crossed the border, I cut back over to the main road and there was hardly any wait to pass through. Again, my exit stamp for Greece is nearly illegible, but my entry stamp for Macedonia is nice and solid.
About half-way through Macedonia I was pulled over by the cops. I thought it was a random checkpoint (I’ve seen several of these in Kosovo). The police officer didn’t speak any English, but I knew right away what was going on. He motioned for me to get out of the car. I grabbed my jacket (it was chilly and windy), got out, and he took me over to his radar gun and showed me my speed (86 kmph in a 60 kmph zone). He then directed me to two additional officers sitting in a police car. The officer in the driver’s seat said, “Go get your documents.” “Which documents?” I asked. “Your passport and green card.”
I went and grabbed my passport (I didn’t know what a green card was). My colleague wanted to know what was going on, but I wasn’t quite sure yet so I said that I didn’t know. They wanted my passport. I returned to the police car, handed over my passport, and waited for what was coming next: a sermon on driving the speed limit.
“You should drive sixty. It’s for your own safety,” he flipped through my passport and pulled out a clipboard laden with the information of other offenders clipped on it.
“But I was confused. A few signs said sixty, but there were many cars passing me. I thought I was driving too slow,” I was telling him the truth. I had seen the signs for 60 a few miles back, but everyone else was passing me so nonchalantly I thought the signs had been only for a small section of road.
“Well…we can’t pull everyone over. Today is your lucky day,” he smiled.
“Aren’t I fortunate?” I smiled back.
Then the officer in the passenger seat started talking. “We love America, but you must drive the speed limit. You were going too fast. Out of respect for your country, out of respect for you, you should drive the speed limit. The fine is 45 Euros. But, again, out of respect for your country, we will not ask you to pay it this time.” With that, my passport was returned and I was shooed away.
I thanked the officers, including the one who had flagged me over. While I had been speaking with the other two officers, he stood behind me and listened to our exchange (a nice role play for an English for police officers class). With a quick thank you toot of the horn, I pulled back onto the road and we were once again on our way.
We returned to Skopje, dropped off the car, went to the bus station, and I was soon on the bus back to Prizren. I haven’t uploaded my photos yet, but when I do, I’ll post a few. That is, if the power stays on for any reasonable length of time. It’s been out twice already today, once at 8am right before I was going to boil water for coffee to take with me to work, and once at 3:15pm, right after I arrived home. The power also went out last night around 9pm, which was fine because I was tired and needed to go to bed. Ramadan is over and I think the power cuts have begun again.
After I dropped my bags and rinsed my face, I was out the door to do some exploring, to see why Macedonia calls to me. I didn’t have a map, I just went where I thought I should go. The first thing I needed to do was eat. I found the downtown area easily enough. Like Reno, there’s a river running through it: the River Vardar. Walking alongside it, I stopped at a café with enclosed outdoor seating (it was raining) and went in through its plastic doors. I picked a table in a corner and started looking at the menu, which was all in Macedonian Cyrillic. I was sounding out the menu categories when the waiter brought me an English menu. I skimmed it and found that there were sandwiches, pizza, ice cream, sweet pancakes, and salty pancakes. I was going in the direction of a sandwich when I thought, you know, I should try something different… So a salty pancake it was. There were salty pancakes with beef salad; cheese; cheese and pork; chicken; chicken and olives; tuna with mayonnaise; mayonnaise and salad; and a whole host of other options. Continuing in my well, I’ll try something I’ve never tried before method of choosing food, I opted for a salty pancake with magdadena, mustard, and black pepper with a peach juice to drink.
What I ate was a crepe with bologna, a few bits of tomato and lettuce, a dash of pepper, and the whole thing was drowning in mustard. Not just swimming, but drowning. My appetite momentarily plummeted then came back more voraciously. The combination of curiosity and raging hunger drove me to dig in. The mustard wasn’t too overpowering (but the cook must have used half a bottle) and the tomatoes offset the greasy chewiness of the lunchmeat just enough to make it edible. I made a good go of it and finished about half. I sat for a few moments, looking at my salty pancake and trying to decide whether or not I had eaten enough to subside me until dinner and if I should eat a bit more, but my ‘bologna reflex’ kicked in and I decided I couldn’t eat another bite. I paid and set off for the Kale Fortress, which is partial ruins of Justinia Prima, the second city of the Byzantium (at least according to the “In Your Pocket” Guide for Skopje). The ruins are on a hill and from the Kale Fortress, there are pretty nice views over Skopje. By this time it had stopped raining so I walked around the grounds a bit (there’s not a lot to walk around) and headed over to the bazaar to explore.
I walked around the bazaar (mostly restaurant and shops selling jewelry) and headed back into the town center. Somehow I ended up at a shopping mall and the first thing that greeted me when I walked in was a Lush. This made me very happy and I bought a few items and poked around a handful of other shops to see if I could find pants (I didn’t have any luck). A bit tired, I headed back to the hotel and laid down for a quick nap before I met my colleague who was staying in the same hotel (we were travelling to the conference together from Skopje) so that we could have dinner.
Deciding on a dinner destination in an unknown place is fraught with issues. I had a truncated “In Your Pocket” Guide for Skopje that had two good-looking possibilities for Macedonian food. We asked at the reception which might be better, but the woman said that neither were in places good for walking. She directed us to another restaurant closer to the hotel. We dutifully went, but the place was booked (however, no one had yet arrived for their reservations and the restaurant was empty). The waiter told us about a ‘restaurant street’ we could check out, but as we were walking along this street, looking for restaurants, we got a bit sketched out by a group of loud men sitting on a terrace drinking. We turned around, made our way back to the main street, hopped in a cab, and asked him to take us to the Beerhouse An.
Unbeknownst to me, Beerhouse An is located in the bazaar area I had been walking around earlier and is not accessible by taxi. The driver parked in the nearest parking lot and walked us to the restaurant. It was very nice of him to do that and I tipped him rather generously (I don’t even know if one usually tips in Macedonia). Beerhouse An is not a beerhouse but, rather, is a really good Macedonian restaurant. For about $30 I ate until I was stuffed. I had salad (tomato, feta, and lettuce), a main dish (mixed meat kabob with a fabulous vegetable stew), dessert (like a crepe with some type of nut butter inside…the waitress tried to explain it but I didn’t understand), wine, and lots of bread. I practically had to roll myself back to the hotel (we walked). The only downside to our meal was that as we were having dessert, the men at the table next to us started smoking cigars. Yuck.
On Friday morning, we cabbed over to the car rental place, rented a car (some kind of Opel), and were on our way out of Skopje heading south to Thessaloniki. Driving through Macedonia was a breeze. The road was great. There wasn’t much traffic. It was raining slightly, but not enough to cause any issues. Crossing into Greece couldn’t have been easier. The main bummer? My entry stamp for Greece is unreadable. The rest of the drive into Thessaloniki was a piece of cake. The only blip came at the end when I couldn’t find the hotel parking lot and I had to maneuver this big, unfamiliar car down a few back streets and between parked cars. Had we been given anything bigger I would have had serious problems squeezing through some incredibly tight areas.
Thessaloniki was, well…it didn’t speak to me the way Skopje did. The hotel was mediocre. There was a lot of construction going on around the hotel which made it difficult to walk. It was crowded and noisy. Thesslaoniki lacks the calm cosmopolitanism of Skopje. However, by Sunday morning, I had warmed up to Thessaloniki quite a bit. Our dinner on Friday night was tourist-trap junk, but our meal Saturday night was lovely. The hotel didn’t deserve its 4-star rating, but my bathroom did have a usable tub (which I used three times). Additionally, the hotel was just around the corner from a Carrefour super market. I went nuts. I bought oatmeal and canned beans and tea and almonds and cereal bars and peanut butter and whole wheat spaghetti and brown rice and floss and a few other luxuries. That alone made the entire trip worthwhile.
I was mortified when I stopped at a small restaurant and ordered a gyro when the man behind the counter not only stuffed my pita with shaved lamb, onions, tomatoes, and parsley but also added mustard, ketchup, and a few bits of fried potatoes. However, this turned out to be really tasty. Additionally, my colleague and I stumbled onto a really great little bakery with out-of-this-world baklava. We even discovered on Saturday night that there were three Starbucks within a 15-minute walk from the hotel. Before leaving on Sunday I treated myself to a soy mocha. Mmm-mmm.
My presentation, the reason I was in Thessaloniki, went well. The people who attended were interested in my subject matter (I was speaking on a photography project I did with students in Japan using mobile phones) and my 45-minute time slot flew by. The conference overall was interesting and I was able to make a few contacts that might come in handy later on.
Sunday morning came far too quickly (Thessaloniki, I hardly knew ye), and we were off in the car again (no squeezing was necessary to get from the parking garage back to the main street) and on our way back to Skopje. The drive back was uneventful, mostly. I overshot the highway that goes to the border. We stopped when we came to a town neither one of us recognized. I dug the map of Greece out of the trunk and asked a tableful of people at a nearby café where we were and how to get going back towards the border. I ended up on a road paralleling the main highway, which turned out to be a nice scenic alternative. Right before we crossed the border, I cut back over to the main road and there was hardly any wait to pass through. Again, my exit stamp for Greece is nearly illegible, but my entry stamp for Macedonia is nice and solid.
About half-way through Macedonia I was pulled over by the cops. I thought it was a random checkpoint (I’ve seen several of these in Kosovo). The police officer didn’t speak any English, but I knew right away what was going on. He motioned for me to get out of the car. I grabbed my jacket (it was chilly and windy), got out, and he took me over to his radar gun and showed me my speed (86 kmph in a 60 kmph zone). He then directed me to two additional officers sitting in a police car. The officer in the driver’s seat said, “Go get your documents.” “Which documents?” I asked. “Your passport and green card.”
I went and grabbed my passport (I didn’t know what a green card was). My colleague wanted to know what was going on, but I wasn’t quite sure yet so I said that I didn’t know. They wanted my passport. I returned to the police car, handed over my passport, and waited for what was coming next: a sermon on driving the speed limit.
“You should drive sixty. It’s for your own safety,” he flipped through my passport and pulled out a clipboard laden with the information of other offenders clipped on it.
“But I was confused. A few signs said sixty, but there were many cars passing me. I thought I was driving too slow,” I was telling him the truth. I had seen the signs for 60 a few miles back, but everyone else was passing me so nonchalantly I thought the signs had been only for a small section of road.
“Well…we can’t pull everyone over. Today is your lucky day,” he smiled.
“Aren’t I fortunate?” I smiled back.
Then the officer in the passenger seat started talking. “We love America, but you must drive the speed limit. You were going too fast. Out of respect for your country, out of respect for you, you should drive the speed limit. The fine is 45 Euros. But, again, out of respect for your country, we will not ask you to pay it this time.” With that, my passport was returned and I was shooed away.
I thanked the officers, including the one who had flagged me over. While I had been speaking with the other two officers, he stood behind me and listened to our exchange (a nice role play for an English for police officers class). With a quick thank you toot of the horn, I pulled back onto the road and we were once again on our way.
We returned to Skopje, dropped off the car, went to the bus station, and I was soon on the bus back to Prizren. I haven’t uploaded my photos yet, but when I do, I’ll post a few. That is, if the power stays on for any reasonable length of time. It’s been out twice already today, once at 8am right before I was going to boil water for coffee to take with me to work, and once at 3:15pm, right after I arrived home. The power also went out last night around 9pm, which was fine because I was tired and needed to go to bed. Ramadan is over and I think the power cuts have begun again.
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
Do You Know the Way to Skopje?
Ever since watching the movie Before the Rain when I was a sophomore at university, I've wanted to go to Macedonia. I can't even remember what the movie was about but it stirred something in me. Tomorrow I finally get to realize this desire: I'm hopping on a bus and going to Skopje.
It's not far, just over 100 km (62 miles). The ride is scheduled for 3 hours, but that's only if customs is a hassle. Generally the bus takes about 2 hours. I'm not going just for fun. I'm presenting at a conference in Thessaloniki, Greece on Saturday. Originally, I had planned to travel to Skopje on Friday, but Friday is 'bayram', or, the end of Ramadan and is a holiday (actually, the word bayram is Turkish for festival, but everyone here refers to the day at the end of Ramadan as bayram and not, say, Eid ul Fitr or something along those lines). The busses aren't running from Prizren on Friday (and I am soooo glad I went to the bus company to ask and didn't just show up at the bus station on Friday expecting to go to Skopje...I would have had to take a taxi).
I'm rather glad to have to go to Skopje a day early. I could just travel on to Thessaloniki, but I refuse to pass up the chance to spend a little bit of time in Macedonia's capital. Plus, hotel rates in Skopje are much, much lower. For example: My hotel in Skopje? 35 Euros ($49.50). My hotel in Thessaloniki? 97 Euros ($137.20...and that's the lower rate for conference attendees). Plus, I would have had to pay for an extra day's car rental if I went through to Greece.
As an aside, I found my hotel in Skopje, Hotel 903-ta, through the Lonely Planet Haystack website. It's not the first time I've referenced their accommodations site (I looked at it for hotels in Spain), but it's the first time I've chosen a hotel from it. However, I booked my room through the hotel directly and not through Lonely Planet.
I'll give my impressions on my return.
I am very much looking forward to my presentation at the Macedonia-Thrace TESOL conference (Macedonia referring to an area in Greece and not the country). I'll be presenting on the Class Photo Blog project I did with my freshmen students last November.
Right as I typed that last word November the power went out. This is the third time in three days. Power has been steady throughout Ramadan, but I hear that as soon as Ramadan is over, the power cuts are coming back. Indeed, it seems as if they already are. Time to light the candles. Luckily for me, my landlady gave me a small gas burner that I can use to make tea on when the power fails. At least I can still maintain some civility. Heh.
PS: The power was out for one hour, from 7-8pm. At least the outages are fairly short. I’m lucky because I live in an “A” area which means that because people in my neighborhood pay their power bills, we have the fewest and shortest outages.
And then, right as I was about to post this blog again (I can’t post when there isn’t any power because my connection doesn’t work), the power cut out for a second time. Yeesh. At least I managed to get the dishes washed while we had lights. And now, nearly 2.5 hours after I was going to post originally, the power is back on. Better do this before it goes off again.
It's not far, just over 100 km (62 miles). The ride is scheduled for 3 hours, but that's only if customs is a hassle. Generally the bus takes about 2 hours. I'm not going just for fun. I'm presenting at a conference in Thessaloniki, Greece on Saturday. Originally, I had planned to travel to Skopje on Friday, but Friday is 'bayram', or, the end of Ramadan and is a holiday (actually, the word bayram is Turkish for festival, but everyone here refers to the day at the end of Ramadan as bayram and not, say, Eid ul Fitr or something along those lines). The busses aren't running from Prizren on Friday (and I am soooo glad I went to the bus company to ask and didn't just show up at the bus station on Friday expecting to go to Skopje...I would have had to take a taxi).
I'm rather glad to have to go to Skopje a day early. I could just travel on to Thessaloniki, but I refuse to pass up the chance to spend a little bit of time in Macedonia's capital. Plus, hotel rates in Skopje are much, much lower. For example: My hotel in Skopje? 35 Euros ($49.50). My hotel in Thessaloniki? 97 Euros ($137.20...and that's the lower rate for conference attendees). Plus, I would have had to pay for an extra day's car rental if I went through to Greece.
As an aside, I found my hotel in Skopje, Hotel 903-ta, through the Lonely Planet Haystack website. It's not the first time I've referenced their accommodations site (I looked at it for hotels in Spain), but it's the first time I've chosen a hotel from it. However, I booked my room through the hotel directly and not through Lonely Planet.
I'll give my impressions on my return.
I am very much looking forward to my presentation at the Macedonia-Thrace TESOL conference (Macedonia referring to an area in Greece and not the country). I'll be presenting on the Class Photo Blog project I did with my freshmen students last November.
Right as I typed that last word November the power went out. This is the third time in three days. Power has been steady throughout Ramadan, but I hear that as soon as Ramadan is over, the power cuts are coming back. Indeed, it seems as if they already are. Time to light the candles. Luckily for me, my landlady gave me a small gas burner that I can use to make tea on when the power fails. At least I can still maintain some civility. Heh.
PS: The power was out for one hour, from 7-8pm. At least the outages are fairly short. I’m lucky because I live in an “A” area which means that because people in my neighborhood pay their power bills, we have the fewest and shortest outages.
And then, right as I was about to post this blog again (I can’t post when there isn’t any power because my connection doesn’t work), the power cut out for a second time. Yeesh. At least I managed to get the dishes washed while we had lights. And now, nearly 2.5 hours after I was going to post originally, the power is back on. Better do this before it goes off again.
The Little Things
Half-way through the second week of classes at the university, I finally feel like I'm starting to hit my stride. The students are keen; I brought good materials with me from which to create what I think will be a good curriculum for my classes; and I finally feel like I can do what I came here to do. My highschool students are similarly great and I have a string of teacher training workshops planned. My apartment is slowly becoming 'Kirsten-ized' and I am feeling settled.
Usually when I come home, I turn on the computer and switch the tv to CNN (or MTV Deutschland). However, today I decided to fiddle with the box on top of the tv. And, boy, am I glad I did that. Not only am I connected to cable tv, but I have satellite tv as well. I even get Al Jazeera (in Arabic). There aren't any English channels, though. I was a bit bummed, but it's not like I need to sit around watching tv. Then I realized that I get radio, too. Not only do I get a bazillion radio stations, but there is one NPR station. That's all I need. One NPR station (this one broadcasts from Berlin).
I can't believe it took me a whole month before investigating my tv options, but I am sure glad I did it today, a rainy, rainy day. I find that no matter where I am, it's the little things that can really turn a ho-hum experience into something I can really enjoy. And now that I have an NPR station (which has Morning Edition on now...I can only hope I happen upon This American Life which has been difficult for me to download) I can more fully enjoy my new home.
Usually when I come home, I turn on the computer and switch the tv to CNN (or MTV Deutschland). However, today I decided to fiddle with the box on top of the tv. And, boy, am I glad I did that. Not only am I connected to cable tv, but I have satellite tv as well. I even get Al Jazeera (in Arabic). There aren't any English channels, though. I was a bit bummed, but it's not like I need to sit around watching tv. Then I realized that I get radio, too. Not only do I get a bazillion radio stations, but there is one NPR station. That's all I need. One NPR station (this one broadcasts from Berlin).
I can't believe it took me a whole month before investigating my tv options, but I am sure glad I did it today, a rainy, rainy day. I find that no matter where I am, it's the little things that can really turn a ho-hum experience into something I can really enjoy. And now that I have an NPR station (which has Morning Edition on now...I can only hope I happen upon This American Life which has been difficult for me to download) I can more fully enjoy my new home.
Saturday, October 06, 2007
Around Prizren
After spending another four hours doing the round-trip travel to Pristina today, I needed to take a walk when I got back home (had to go for a meeting of the Kosovo English Teachers Assoc.). I grabbed my camera and wandered the streets. I internally debated over how I should lay the pics out: whether I should group them into signs, cars, and others or something along those lines. I decided that posting them chronologically was the way to go.
As I left my place, I thought that I'd give myself a theme and that theme would be cars. The automobile scene in Prizren contains a lot of Yugos and Golfs, although the UN vehicles are 4Runners and the OSCE vehicles are 4Runner wannabes. I didn't look to check what kind of car the above one is.
The main mosque is always photogenic. One of these days I am going to get up early and try to take pictures of it in the morning light.
All over town there JO NEGOCIATA and VETEVENDOSJE are spraypainted. The majority of Kosovars are determined to obtain independence and are not interested in negotiating with Serbia.
These little purple flowers are planted in flower boxes alongside the trash-filled river. They're pretty and bright.
This guy...heh...this guy lives in a house on the way up to the castle. I've seen him a couple of times as I've been either walking up or down. He speaks English, kind of, and I usually don't quite understand what he's saying. Tonight he was tomato-face drunk and very talkative. I really have no idea what he talked about but he did give me his phone number.
No negotiating on the side of a building. There's graffiti everywhere, but nothing very artistic.
As I continued my walk, I thought I would change themes since the whole car thing wasn't working out for me. My new theme: signage.
These are OSCE vehicles parked across the street from their building. Both the OSCE and UNMIK print their own plates. I'm not sure why they don't use the Kosovo plates other than it can be difficult to take a car out of Kosovo if it has Kosovo plates.
There are plenty of handmade signs around town advertising parking.
This four-wheeled advertisement looks like the bread box vehicles that are all over Japan.
There are four streetlights I have seen in Prizren so far, all of which are at this intersection. The streetlights don't work, and from what I can gather, these have never worked. I'm not sure why the lights were installed. The way that the Kosovars drive, I'd have to wonder if anyone would even know how to heed the red light/green light system. (I know, that's not fair, but I've seen a lot of crazy driving techniques in my short time here.)
Back along the river a fancy-schmancy car is parked between the trees. Although this silver car isn't one, I've seen more Jaguars here than I have anywhere else (except in front of the dealership in San Francisco).
I have no idea what this says, but it's in German. Prizren is host to both German and Turkish KFOR soldiers. It must be pretty easy for the Turkish soldiers to get around because a lot of the population here seems to speak Turkish. There are a lot of German speakers as well but not nearly as many as there are Turkish.
On my way back home I passed by the remnants of the Turkish baths with the minaret of a nearby mosque peeking up from behind.
As I left my place, I thought that I'd give myself a theme and that theme would be cars. The automobile scene in Prizren contains a lot of Yugos and Golfs, although the UN vehicles are 4Runners and the OSCE vehicles are 4Runner wannabes. I didn't look to check what kind of car the above one is.
The main mosque is always photogenic. One of these days I am going to get up early and try to take pictures of it in the morning light.
All over town there JO NEGOCIATA and VETEVENDOSJE are spraypainted. The majority of Kosovars are determined to obtain independence and are not interested in negotiating with Serbia.
These little purple flowers are planted in flower boxes alongside the trash-filled river. They're pretty and bright.
This guy...heh...this guy lives in a house on the way up to the castle. I've seen him a couple of times as I've been either walking up or down. He speaks English, kind of, and I usually don't quite understand what he's saying. Tonight he was tomato-face drunk and very talkative. I really have no idea what he talked about but he did give me his phone number.
No negotiating on the side of a building. There's graffiti everywhere, but nothing very artistic.
As I continued my walk, I thought I would change themes since the whole car thing wasn't working out for me. My new theme: signage.This is a notice board alongside the river. Posted to it are notices I don't know how to describe other than death notices. I'm not sure how soon after death the notices are posted or for how long the notices stay up (these are also posted on the doors of the deceased's residence). Below is a close-up shot of one.
These are OSCE vehicles parked across the street from their building. Both the OSCE and UNMIK print their own plates. I'm not sure why they don't use the Kosovo plates other than it can be difficult to take a car out of Kosovo if it has Kosovo plates.
There are plenty of handmade signs around town advertising parking. 
This four-wheeled advertisement looks like the bread box vehicles that are all over Japan.
There are four streetlights I have seen in Prizren so far, all of which are at this intersection. The streetlights don't work, and from what I can gather, these have never worked. I'm not sure why the lights were installed. The way that the Kosovars drive, I'd have to wonder if anyone would even know how to heed the red light/green light system. (I know, that's not fair, but I've seen a lot of crazy driving techniques in my short time here.)
Back along the river a fancy-schmancy car is parked between the trees. Although this silver car isn't one, I've seen more Jaguars here than I have anywhere else (except in front of the dealership in San Francisco).
I have no idea what this says, but it's in German. Prizren is host to both German and Turkish KFOR soldiers. It must be pretty easy for the Turkish soldiers to get around because a lot of the population here seems to speak Turkish. There are a lot of German speakers as well but not nearly as many as there are Turkish.
On my way back home I passed by the remnants of the Turkish baths with the minaret of a nearby mosque peeking up from behind.Friday, October 05, 2007
Restaurant Samurai
Kosovo. Not exactly a place where you think you could get good Japanese food. But I had a hankering, a sushi itch I needed to scratch, a desire to give my sinuses a wasabi clearing. Determined and with the thin knowledge that there was a Japanese restaurant in Pristina, I hopped on the bus for the 90-minute ride north.
After I got off at the bus station, I wasn't sure where to go so I started off in search of a cab. I saw lots of taxis, empty, without drivers, sitting in the parking lot. I looked in about 10 cars but saw no one. I began walking but soon realized I wasn't quite sure which way the city center was. There were two cabs a bit ahead of me parked on the sidewalk. The first one I approached had no driver, but there was a small wrinkled man smoking a cigarette in the second. "Taxi?" I asked. He nodded. "Grand Hotel?" I asked. He nodded then paused, "3 Euros."
Standing in front of the Grand Hotel, I kicked at a pile of gravel and looked around. I scanned the rooftops, I watched traffic skitter by, and then I knew. Five minutes later I was standing in front of Restaurant Samurai looking at the daily specials board (some kind of noodle dish, it was written in English). The outdoor seating looked pretty full and it was hot (high 80's today) so I went inside and sat down.
I looked over the menu: no tonkatsu (fried pork cutlet), no unagi (eel), and a really short and expensive sushi list (4,5 Euros for salmon). But I saw what I wanted: sake & tekka don (sliced salmon and tuna over rice): 12 Euros. Expensive, but after 90 minutes on a hot smelly bus, I didn't care.
The food came fast: A big bowl with a one-person portion of rice draped with 6 pieces of fish. The salmon was good, like salmon you'd get anywhere (probably farmed). The tuna was edible, but was a lower grade of tuna, like bintoro or something along those lines. The wasabi, though, the wasabi...I cleared my sinuses twice (quite accidentally, mind you). For two more Euros I had a pot of oolong tea (which was quite nice) that was served with a really small tea cup with a handle too small to be usable.
All-in-all, considering I am in Kosovo, my meal at Restaurant Samurai was decent. It didn't knock my socks off but I've had comparable meals at Japanese restaurants in the US. (It's not like Minden/Gardnerville is on the map in terms of non-Basque destination restaurants.) I don't think I'll make the trek to Pristina just to go there, but I would go back.
After eating, I wandered around for a while and happened upon a bookstore which had a surprising selection of Haruki Murakami, a handful of calendars from 2005, an interesting collection of art books, and a few maps and postcards. I bought some art magazines from last year, a book (Everything is Illuminated by Jonathan Safran Foer), and a map of Greece. I don't plan on making regular trips to Pristina for fun, but at least there's a bookshop to browse if I decide to go.
After I got off at the bus station, I wasn't sure where to go so I started off in search of a cab. I saw lots of taxis, empty, without drivers, sitting in the parking lot. I looked in about 10 cars but saw no one. I began walking but soon realized I wasn't quite sure which way the city center was. There were two cabs a bit ahead of me parked on the sidewalk. The first one I approached had no driver, but there was a small wrinkled man smoking a cigarette in the second. "Taxi?" I asked. He nodded. "Grand Hotel?" I asked. He nodded then paused, "3 Euros."
Standing in front of the Grand Hotel, I kicked at a pile of gravel and looked around. I scanned the rooftops, I watched traffic skitter by, and then I knew. Five minutes later I was standing in front of Restaurant Samurai looking at the daily specials board (some kind of noodle dish, it was written in English). The outdoor seating looked pretty full and it was hot (high 80's today) so I went inside and sat down.
I looked over the menu: no tonkatsu (fried pork cutlet), no unagi (eel), and a really short and expensive sushi list (4,5 Euros for salmon). But I saw what I wanted: sake & tekka don (sliced salmon and tuna over rice): 12 Euros. Expensive, but after 90 minutes on a hot smelly bus, I didn't care.
The food came fast: A big bowl with a one-person portion of rice draped with 6 pieces of fish. The salmon was good, like salmon you'd get anywhere (probably farmed). The tuna was edible, but was a lower grade of tuna, like bintoro or something along those lines. The wasabi, though, the wasabi...I cleared my sinuses twice (quite accidentally, mind you). For two more Euros I had a pot of oolong tea (which was quite nice) that was served with a really small tea cup with a handle too small to be usable.
All-in-all, considering I am in Kosovo, my meal at Restaurant Samurai was decent. It didn't knock my socks off but I've had comparable meals at Japanese restaurants in the US. (It's not like Minden/Gardnerville is on the map in terms of non-Basque destination restaurants.) I don't think I'll make the trek to Pristina just to go there, but I would go back.
After eating, I wandered around for a while and happened upon a bookstore which had a surprising selection of Haruki Murakami, a handful of calendars from 2005, an interesting collection of art books, and a few maps and postcards. I bought some art magazines from last year, a book (Everything is Illuminated by Jonathan Safran Foer), and a map of Greece. I don't plan on making regular trips to Pristina for fun, but at least there's a bookshop to browse if I decide to go.
Thursday, October 04, 2007
Just Another Day
This morning has been just another morning. I woke up at 6am to go downstairs to flip the breaker on for the water pump, threw a load of laundry in the washer, and went back to bed. Around 7, I got up, dressed, turned the water heater for the shower on, and headed out for a run. As usual, I made my way up towards the castle ruins. I said good morning to the few people I passed and was actually thinking about baking brownies for my students after Ramazan ends when I came across three white-haired men out for a walk.
I slowed a bit and moved over when one of them stopped me. Not quite sure what was going on, I said good morning in Albanian and made to move around them when the man in front thrust a stick into my hand. I often see people walking with handmade walking sticks. Mostly these sticks are carried to deter the street dogs although, to be honest, I haven't seen many strays and the ones that have crossed my path skitter off fairly quickly or are too busy eating garbage to notice me. However, not wanting to be rude, I accepted the gift of stick, thanked them, and continued on my way.
Not too long after, I ran into the group of folk I have been hiking with on the weekend. I explained the gift of stick and the English-speaking guy who works for UNMIK (the UN Mission in Kosovo) said that he knew the three men. These men were Albanian shepherds and it was not uncommon for shepards to make walking sticks as a way to pass the time while tending sheep. He examined my new stick (about the width of a broom stick and maybe 3 feet in length) and exclaimed it was made from a hazlenut tree and was quite a nice stick.
I brought my stick home, placed it by the front door, and will happily take it with me walking knowing that it was a well-intentioned gift from a complete stranger.
As for the rest of my morning, the laundry was finished washing by the time I arrived back home. It takes nearly 2 hours for a load to complete....why so long, I'm not sure. The washer is a front-loading model and doesn't fill with water although by the time the complete wash cycle is completed, my clothes are still quite wet. The spin cycle doesn't quite manage to squeeze out all possible water from my clothes, but things dry within a day or two, even jeans. I haven't seen any laundromats yet. I like to dry my t-shirts every few washings to try to keep the necks from stretching out too badly.
And to complete my morning, I'm now heading off to classes.
I slowed a bit and moved over when one of them stopped me. Not quite sure what was going on, I said good morning in Albanian and made to move around them when the man in front thrust a stick into my hand. I often see people walking with handmade walking sticks. Mostly these sticks are carried to deter the street dogs although, to be honest, I haven't seen many strays and the ones that have crossed my path skitter off fairly quickly or are too busy eating garbage to notice me. However, not wanting to be rude, I accepted the gift of stick, thanked them, and continued on my way.
Not too long after, I ran into the group of folk I have been hiking with on the weekend. I explained the gift of stick and the English-speaking guy who works for UNMIK (the UN Mission in Kosovo) said that he knew the three men. These men were Albanian shepherds and it was not uncommon for shepards to make walking sticks as a way to pass the time while tending sheep. He examined my new stick (about the width of a broom stick and maybe 3 feet in length) and exclaimed it was made from a hazlenut tree and was quite a nice stick.
I brought my stick home, placed it by the front door, and will happily take it with me walking knowing that it was a well-intentioned gift from a complete stranger.
As for the rest of my morning, the laundry was finished washing by the time I arrived back home. It takes nearly 2 hours for a load to complete....why so long, I'm not sure. The washer is a front-loading model and doesn't fill with water although by the time the complete wash cycle is completed, my clothes are still quite wet. The spin cycle doesn't quite manage to squeeze out all possible water from my clothes, but things dry within a day or two, even jeans. I haven't seen any laundromats yet. I like to dry my t-shirts every few washings to try to keep the necks from stretching out too badly.
And to complete my morning, I'm now heading off to classes.
Monday, October 01, 2007
Spokane Dan, Movie Critic
Do you have an interest in movies? An interest in Kosovo? I came across this blog written by Dan of Spokane who spent time in Pristina last year: 7* Movies & More.
First Day of School
On the first day of classes at the university, these things happened:
1. I received an ovation from the incoming students for being American.
2. I was given a partial class schedule (I know the meeting times of one of my three classes).
3. I was not given any kind of class list, and I don't think I'll be getting one.
4. All of my students stood up when I walked into the classroom.
5. My students kept waiting for me to leave the classroom once class was over. After I realized why they were hanging around, I waved them off.
I also learned today that students aren't given final grades on an official transcript the way American students are. Students have these little passport-sized books called indexes that teachers fill out as students pass their final exams. Grades fall between 5 and 10, with 5 being a fail and 10 being perfect (if a students receives a 5, their index isn't filled out...students can retake their final exams to try to obtain a better grade). Instructors don't necessarily look at their grade books when filling the indexes out. Sometimes they look at what grades students received in the past, and sometimes it's just done by memory. I was told when I arrived that the two most corrupt fields in Kosovo are education and the hospitals. On the other hand, the police, however poorly paid, tend to be on the up-and-up.
I also realized today that even though I don't know when my classes meet, at least I know what classes I am teaching. Not all instructors know yet what subjects they are teaching this semester (and the semester started today). I'm not sure what to do about tomorrow. I have other things I need to do, so I can't run over to the university to check my class times. It's a funny system. The schedule may change, too. This makes it really tough to try to schedule anything else (like my class of high school students, or workshops, or conversation groups, or any of my other duties and responsibilities).
For someone as time-oriented as I am, it's challenging to adopt a more relaxed view of time.
1. I received an ovation from the incoming students for being American.
2. I was given a partial class schedule (I know the meeting times of one of my three classes).
3. I was not given any kind of class list, and I don't think I'll be getting one.
4. All of my students stood up when I walked into the classroom.
5. My students kept waiting for me to leave the classroom once class was over. After I realized why they were hanging around, I waved them off.
I also learned today that students aren't given final grades on an official transcript the way American students are. Students have these little passport-sized books called indexes that teachers fill out as students pass their final exams. Grades fall between 5 and 10, with 5 being a fail and 10 being perfect (if a students receives a 5, their index isn't filled out...students can retake their final exams to try to obtain a better grade). Instructors don't necessarily look at their grade books when filling the indexes out. Sometimes they look at what grades students received in the past, and sometimes it's just done by memory. I was told when I arrived that the two most corrupt fields in Kosovo are education and the hospitals. On the other hand, the police, however poorly paid, tend to be on the up-and-up.
I also realized today that even though I don't know when my classes meet, at least I know what classes I am teaching. Not all instructors know yet what subjects they are teaching this semester (and the semester started today). I'm not sure what to do about tomorrow. I have other things I need to do, so I can't run over to the university to check my class times. It's a funny system. The schedule may change, too. This makes it really tough to try to schedule anything else (like my class of high school students, or workshops, or conversation groups, or any of my other duties and responsibilities).
For someone as time-oriented as I am, it's challenging to adopt a more relaxed view of time.
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