So Close Yet So Far Away

Although my recent work conference was located only 340 miles away from Pristina up in Novi Sad Serbia taking under 5 hours to drive direct, because of the issues at the Kosovo/Serbia border and not having an official Serbian visa stamp to enter, I had to drive from my office to Skopje airport in Macedonia, wait for a plan that flew first south to a resort town and then double back to Belgrade, overnight in Belgrade to get picked up the next day by one of my Serbian staff to make the 1 hour scenic drive to Novi Sad. All told, way too many many hours of routine inconvenience which is ever so common in trying to get around the Balkans.

It is only within this context of (unnecessary) complexities that one can begin to understand how the business and agricultural community can be 15-20 years more advanced there than the situation we have here in Kosovo. Since I was attending the largest regional agriculture fair with 4 of my staff over a 3 day period, I was brought back to the reality of how difficult a task we face here trying to make marginal improvements on the way the Kosovars produce their local products to compete against all the imports from Serbia and beyond. I don't imagine the John Deer equipment we saw or the dairy processing plants they were selling were much different from a similar type of trade fair anywhere in the western world, but still everything was too expensive and too advanced for a majority of our clients.

What was different was the Balkanization of the fair. First off there are the famous and impossible to miss booth babes. Anyone who displays their products must hire a local girl to help hand out brochures and serve drinks during any of the business deals. Not to mention the additional girls that most the companies bring in with very skimpy, suggestive matching outfits and smiles to melt an iceberg. Of course they don't know a thing about the product but we gladly accepted every brochure they handed us on animal feed, pasteurization techniques, animal husbandry or some other agriculture type product or activity (most in Serbian and on subjects I didn't know even existed). As my Serbian colleague said, 'There is plenty of opportunity for us to rest our eyes'.

Speaking of resting, this fair covered some 30 large conference halls and then all the outdoor walkways connecting the buildings were lined with additional vendors. We must have walked 20 kilometers over several days in some pretty intense heat and certainly needed to take some breaks. Including my free 20 minute chair massage being tended to by two lovely booth babes. What massage has to do with agriculture I have no idea. Oh wait, maybe it was the fact that over 600,000 people attend the fair and I imagine a great number are older, lesser educated men that will gladly consider buying anything from these ladies. They had me sold.

If you are vegetarian, forget it. The only food to be found were open pits preparing a mixed grill of lamb, pork and beef. Along with a loaf of fresh bread and litre of beer I was ready to hit the next hall to escape from the 'turbo folk' Serbian music that was being performed at most of these rest stations. Has to be some of the most acquired taste music I have ever heard. Even a great number of local can't stand it however it continues to remain extremely popular throughout the region.

One thing I seemed to have mastered quite well through all of my business travels is to make sure to combine it with enough pleasure actives to not feel like I'm working 24/7 and able to take advantage experiencing some pretty nice and unique places. Novi Sad is certainly one of these and promoted by all Serbians as their 'crown jewel' being as much like Europe as you get (in the Balkans). I think this was stretching it a bit but is is a very modern, clean, organized and wealthy city with tons of pedestrian plazas, cafes, bars, restaurants and shopping to be had. Not to mention the beautiful women wearing revealing Serbian/European fashion to 'rest our eyes'. Meals were great and each night I went out with my colleagues to a nice relaxing dinner, ice cream and late night drink (for us that meant 10am since we were exhausted). Except on the last night of work I needed a break and took myself to McDonald's for a wonderful dinner followed by attending the local opera which was La Bohem. It was very well performed in a nice theatre for only 3 USD but since it was sung in Italian and translated into Serbian, I was pretty lost for most the show. I then took myself to a local pub playing excellent mixed lounge/hip hop and chatted with bar tender who was a local student.

The next day (Friday) was our last for work and I met my team early for some meetings before they headed off to their families or back to Pristina. However I stayed. My American friend who I traveled with to Slovenia was also attending the fair and we had made plans to connect that evening to hang out with a local friend of his and fully experience the Novi Sad nightlife. Since I couldn't handle another day at the fair I just explored the town by foot before the skies opened up and rained for the majority of the day. Fortunately I had just stepped into the most perfect cafe to sit down and watch 4 hours of tennis from the Hamburg tournament which included all the top players. The perfect European music played in the background as I had a nice lunch, dessert and coffee just to kill time till the evening activities began. My friend Hayden and I connected to head over to his American friend Phils who has lived there for 11 years and acquired an ex-wife and two kids. All this and he is still younger than myself. As we strategized for the evening we exchanged stories on the history and life in Novi Sad. And unfortunately had to commiserate on the similarities of the Balkan ways that are not so different between Kosovo and Serbia. For example after our grand dinner of local Serbian cuisine, we hit our first bar to order a draft beer from the tap in front of us. Not possible, they do not serve from the tap after 10pm on the weekends. WHAT? This is the time when most beers would be sold. Having been around here long enough we didn't even try to rationalize how they came to this decision since it most likely is just one of those things. Moving onto the next place we were joined by a 4th American journalist living there as a freelance writer (most American's I have been out with since leaving the States) and three lovely local ladies, one of which Hayden knows. We all had a great time and finished off the evening at a local dance bar where a band was playing apparently all the well know local sing-along songs that everyone shouted at the top of their voices. We must have also stepped into a different crowd since there were some pretty bad outfits straight out of the 80's music videos.

Our late night out was rewarded by a VERY lazy day of waking up late, having the most excellent 'English breakfast' with fresh OJ, and then walking along the Danube River the length of the entire city. Ironically a private acrobatic jet kept passing overhead doing all types of tricks. I thought it to first be a military operation till Phil explained it is a local millionaire who just goes up to play around in the unregulated skies. Those that have it really have it. Whereas the rest just watch and hope he doesn't come tumbling down into their apartment complex.

We finally heading to the bus stand to catch a 1 hour trip back to Belgrade where Hayden keeps a weekend apartment so he can get out of the southern Serbian town he works. With the rain keeping our activities to a minimum, we just chilled out a bit before heading to a not so settling Chinese meal where we were joined by an ever more unsettling British bloke that Hayden knew. Lets just say this guy was full of himself and was almost making such outrageous statements on the Kosovo situation and other world affairs that you had to guess he was looking for someone to argue with. Not to mention his bitching about the rice and insisting he would not pay and didn't appreciate being treated as such. We just asked for the bill, kept our responses to a minimum and made our way quickly to the US Marine House that was having a party that night. Weird collection of people but had cheap drinks, a pool table (as well as the real pool outside) and some interesting people to chat with. Unfortunately as with Kosovo, all the women (and men) seemed to smoke which is a sure way for me not to engage in very long conversations. An early night home and I was well rested to meet another friend of mine Sander who lives near me in Pristina but who is in Belgrade most weekends with his local girlfriend. They picked me up for the most perfect afternoon before he and I had to catch the shuttle bus back to Kosovo. We explored a local park and memorial just outside the city to walk around nature. I am amazed every time I do Belgrade since it really is a well-developed and green city with all the amenities of Europe.

We even went down to the river to grab a quick pizza on a floating barge to enjoy the sun, calming water and nice conversation. Much needed since the next 5 hours were spent getting tossed around the inside of the bus and the roads got worse and worse the closer with came to Kosovo. Almost like traveling through a time machine as you can see the countryside and villages take you back in time and history till we had to wait at the 'border' before crossing over, switching license plates and heading on our way past many villages without any power. So close yet so far away...

The Fun Kind of Fighting

What better way to celebrate and appreciate my new found friends back here in Kosovo (after having been away for 3 weeks) than going to a large open field and shooting at each other? Believe it or not in a place that is still recovering from the actual bullets flying, there is a large open field that has been converted into a paintball course used (mostly) by internationals. As much as I despise war and everything that it has destroyed, we had a great day of painting each other yellow, orange and some bluish red color.


Over thirty of us joined forces and donned our blue jumpsuits as if we were joining a chain-gang. The fact that it got up to 29 degrees didn't help our situation, especially when we pulled our masks down to cover the last remaining skin for our enemies might want to sting. Somehow, my intuition caused me to bring old biking gloves and a bandanna (both were incidentally blue to match the jumper) to fully encase my hands and neck in protective gear that would ideally prevent the rumored bruises that the paintballs cause. 1o euros later and 200 balls and I was ready to go. Man, you can go through some cash in buying refiller balls when your adrenaline is pumping and you switch you gun onto automatic fire to send a barrage of splattering balls towards the opposite team.

One would think with such a potentially dangerous sport that there would be a formal orientation and instructions on really what to do. Other than telling us not to bring the guns into the cafe area and to always wear our mask on the field, we were mostly left to our own devises to divide into two reasonably balanced teams, walk to opposite sides of the field, and then let all hell break lose with the last team standing, the winner. This is Kosovo. Fortunately, there were no real 'sleepers' among our friends with formal combat training (unusual since there are so many soldiers and civilian police out here) yet we all started strategizing and partnering like we had seen done on any nightly news broadcast from Iraq.



Game one was a strategic mastermind. Four of us sprinted to the double decker bus to take the high ground and be able to shoot into the protective bunkers of the opposite team. One of our men (thanks again Steve) was sacrificed providing ground cover for the rest of us while Ed and I climbed to the upper deck and I think Gerrit took one protecting us up the steps. From our perch we strategically picked off their approaching snipers with carefully placed rounds clipping the tops of their masks (yes these counted) or exposed feet, hands or any other part we could find. Now, if the paint actually flew straight or allowed you to calibrate your shots accordingly, this would have been easy and taken a fraction of the bullets it did. But whether this is part of a conspiracy by the company to buy more bullets or just they way the paint flies, we usually had to send in 5-10 rounds in order for one to make its mark. Not to mention by that time they all know exactly where our bullets were coming from and they send a volley of paint all over the front, roof and cross bar of the bus causing us to cower from being made into a nice mosaic pattern. Eventually victory was claimed by the red armband for round one and after a paint refill and everyone pumped for more 'killing', round two began on the opposite sides.




And yes, the team with the bus had the advantage. Most of us were picked off pretty quickly in round two and since the plain team had secret Rambo's such as Justin and sweet little Tara, we quickly learned that this was not going to be too easy. Round three brought us to the professional field where we didn't only have tires and buses to navigate but real bushes, berms, hay barrels and a couple well fortified bunkers. This is where we got the hang of teamwork and just pushing ahead quickly with cover fire. My same 4 person strike team (yes we were bad asses) of Ed, Gerrit, Steve and myself flanked left to take a high barrel cover, a tire barricade and they I hit the berm to elbow and knee crawl my way up to the top to send random rounds into the other side without being able to look at the target. Man it was a rush to hear the paint whizzing right by your ears and exploding on the bush tops or even the grass sending a spray of paint over my face and clothes. But I'm still in. But pretty quickly stuck as I started up one hill to the painful realization it was thorns, rolling to my right to be greeted by some not so friendly bees, and then finally belting a scream for cover as I darted over the top to roll down the other side with paint flying (ok maybe not so dramatic but in my mind this is what was going on).



As I took cover behind a thicket an opponent was shooting right from the other side but neither us could shoot each other and violate the 6 meter safe zone. But for some reason she decided to step out into to the open to articulate these instructions to me as she fired her gun and was taken out by Gerrit's support fire (more than 6 meters). Lucky, I only sustained a nasty hit on my gloved knuckle (can only imagine what it would look like without one). So, now that we had pushed up on the left side we realized the rest of our team had also taken the right. Pushing onto the final bunker my dear friend Naragham was making a final stand for her team. As she was sliding back towards my side for better protection against the opposite side, I had a clear shot to end the game. Now if you'll recall the comments earlier that the paint goes all different directions and is damn hard to aim? Subscribing to this theory and not wanting her to be able to spot me in the open and return fire I sent in at least 5 shots, of which all made their mark. Horrified I saw her fall back and roll around as if it was the real thing. As we all rushed up on her she was already bruising well on her leg and hip and a couple had hit the face mask sending paint all into her mouth and nose. Fortunately she was not too hurt but I still held my head in shame.



No worries since what comes around goes around. The next game I was hit point blank in the nose causing a small cut and bruise and sending gushing paint all over my face making me certain it was my own bloody nose. Fortunately blood tastes better than the paint. I also caught one on the top of my unguarded head which left a nice hump. Watching from the sidelines was fun to see Justin shot by his own teammate and then a standoff between two players emptying all their rounds at each other but being resupplied by all the other out players. In the final round we took the plain team by storming the bus and catching Justin from two sides as he ran out of ammo. Better luck next time bro:-)



As most of us licked our wounds a handful of terminators went to the advanced course of rapid fire shot and run behind inflatable pods till the last man is standing. Fast and furious and somehow Tara emerged again victorious taking out most the big guys. A handful of us celebrated our wounds and new friends with a great meal and beers afterward. I actually had to take a nap even not having factored in 4 hours in 29 degrees expiring a full amount of adrenaline. Now lets just pray that everyone can just stick to paint around this place and we'll be full of colors, smiles and new friends. Painting the way to Peace...

Taking a little R&R

Sorry for the delay in my weekly updates but I was in the US for the past several weeks to visit with friends and family in both Washington DC and St Louis, Missouri. Since this was essentially my first time out of the Balkans in the past 8 months it was a much needed and appreciated break. Although there was a flurry of activity to keep me busy non-stop, upon reflection most of it seems trivial to report on. It was much more a visit about being rather than doing even though there was some doing just to be. It was so nice to just spend time catching up with people from my past who know me well enough that we were just able to pick up where we left off and share about the challenges of my assignment in Kosovo, questions about the future and to hear about their lives. As most of you will agree (and I am learning the older I get), it isn't as much about where you are as it is who you are with. And I am so blessed to have some of the best friends and family on the planet!

I must admit that things in the US seemed a bit cleaner, brighter, more organized, happy and healthy than when I left. Compared to Kovoso, I couldn't get over how beautiful both DC and StL looked with all the open green space, flowers in bloom, trashless streets and actual sidewalks to walk on. Public transit was everywhere (even rode the metro in StL for the first time ever) and I was bored out of my mind driving since the streets were straight with painted lines, proper intersections with stop signs or lights and people who obeyed the rules of the road or the law and didn't cut you off every two minutes. DC has become smoke-free and I couldn't get enough of sniffing the fresh air every chance I remembered. It is amazing how the little things can become big things (especially since I have virtually stopped going out in Kosovo due to the insane amount of smoke).

Well, the adventures began with a 20 hour layover in London which afforded me one very very late night with a best friend from New Zealand who I get to see maybe once a year. John and I connect on so many levels which considering that we both met while hiking the ridge of a volcano in Indonesia in 1998 shouldn't surprise me. After recovering from following the exact opposite directions on how to get to his place (yes, John gave them to me;-) I deposited my (heavy) bag at his flat in downtown London before the two of us and one other Kiwi mate hit numerous pubs and clubs kicking back way too many beers followed by shots. Not sure if this was a London, Kiwi, or John thing but no matter it kicked my ass and took the next 5-6 days of vacation to slowly catch up on the missed sleep and intensive hang-over. I guess my benefit to drinking allot is not being able to sleep much so I was up and about relatively early the next day to meet another dear friend of mine who I also met during my southeast Asian tour in 1998. Vicky and I are able to reconnect every several years and we enjoyed my first proper English breakfast in many months while catching up on old times.



So onto DC where I arrived without incident and with plenty of time (or so I thought) to make it into the city, track down my friends apt. key and be waiting for my best friend from grad school who took a train in just to see me for one night and day before she had to return to NY. For anyone who has had to endure the pains of Dulles Airport, the main one is its ridiculous location way outside the city with no train or regular buses into DC. So resorting to Super shuttle for 1/3rd the price of a cab, I ended up waiting and waiting for that damn van to fill up. When we were finally in route the driver must have just moved to DC last week and was using then new navigation systems to tell him exactly how to get to each persons' destination. What the stupid computer didn't tell him is that you NEVER drive through Georgetown to the Adams Morgan Circle on a Sat night. We were in bumper to bumper traffic for so I long I got out of the van, hopped in a taxi to race over to some club where I found my friend to get the key and then arrive at the apartment just as Carol's taxi pulled up. Believe it or not this was all done without the convenience of a cell phone. The Serbian card I had would not work in the US and although I feared this would happen and had set up the logistics ahead of time, it was still a nightmare and made me wonder how we ever survived without cell phones.

Once connected with Carol we hit my old hood in DC for a late night meal (technically think it was breakfast for me) and enjoyed the first 'smoke-free' dining experience I have had (ever in DC since it just banned it) since being in the Balkans. Conversations continued well into the night till I finally fell asleep still talking back at my friends apartment (another advantage of having great friends also do the same line of work I do who are out of country to lend me their apartment, bike and car--you're the best Andrew!). Sunday was a full day of trying to OD on spirituality that I have been missing in Kosovo. Started the day off with the most perfect brunch of toasted banana, peanut butter and honey sandwich before Carol and I went to my old Unitarian church to hear the amazing choir and see my friends in the congregation. Followed by a baby reunion (first of many) to see another grad school friend, husband, and new baby Sam. Can't seem to get enough of kids these days...awe oh. As the most perfect day with Carol came to an end and she departed, I went to my meditation Sangha to see old friends and just settle into my present space of excitement and renewed connection. So nice. And if this wasn't enough my old Aussie mate (who I also met while in SE Asia) picked me up so we could head to the Georgetown Wharf for a late outside dinner on the pier to check out the local babe scene and catch-up. DC in the Springtime is hard to beat!

So my next 3 days in DC quickly cascaded into a collection of doctor appointments, 'business lunches', ODing on Starbucks, and meeting with more friends for some one on one time (even went to the zoo to see the famous Panda with my close friend Jen). One night my condo building held a BBQ for my visit back which was great so I could meet the second tenant of my apartment. I must admit it was very weird to walk back into my old home full of two ladies things. They have done a great job keeping the place in good condition and living in it gently. I was expecting more of a nostalgic feeling but there things just seemed to fit so well into the place I guess I couldn't really imagine it again with my things. The weather held out for us and my rooftop grill still kicked out some perfect (American) burgers and while we nursed some watered down American beer. Nice to feel still the family feeling from my neighbors and made me want to consider coming back there, someday. The neighborhood also looked fantastic with the roads newly paved, much of the construction complete and of course everything in bloom.

A highlight of the DC visit was spending most of one day lunching with my Aunt up in the burbs and then heading over to my 'nieces' house to play with 4 year Kate till her 8 year old sister came home from school and I had them till bedtime. From my 2 years living in DC I became very close to both of them and have really missed seeing them grow-up and being there to help support them. But we picked up right where we left off not wasting a minute to play butterfly out in the cardboard house, to make a caterpillar hotel, play on the swings, ride the bike and tricle to the school to play on the jungle gym. I had taught Sophia how to ride before I left and it was so great to see her master the bike now with no problems. We had a wonderful BBQ their mom made for us and we then worked on homework before finally putting the girls down to bed. Hard to release from their hugs and explain to them that I would come back again as soon as I could. 1 day a year just isn't enough, even if they are not my kids...





My final hurrah was one of my old hangout where any other friends I had not yet been able to see just stopped by for a hug and drink. A good showing, warm DC evening air, no smoking and many Chimay beers assured me of yet another late and limited sleeping night. No worries since I had planned the next nine days to just relax at my mom's house in St Louis with visits to my dad and my lil sis flying in from LA to hang out for a long weekend. I guess I shouldn't have been too surprised when my schedule there seemed just as packed.

Upon arriving in the town where I grew up (but haven't lived for 18 years), it is just amazing how everything goes on auto-pilot. You immediately remember where everything is since nothing seems to have really changed. Just now all seemed more orderly, clean, big, organized, sparsely populated and easy. Driving around in the rental I realized how spread out the city is but how quickly you can get from one place to the next with the 2-5 lane roads. It was very nice to see my mom again in high spirits and good health. She had recently purchased a condo and has really enjoyed converting it into a home. Seeing my various adventure pictures all over the place I really enjoyed her plush carpets and spotlessly clean rooms (now I know where I get it from) along with a fully stocked refrigerator with homemade brownies, one of my favorite breakfast cakes, cereals, and all other things American that I have subtly missed. I had notes all over reminding me of various doctor appointments, visits with friends and other engagements I had been committed to. Stacey, my sister also arrived that next day and straight from the airport with hit a local Italian place to have a very nice late meal and catch up on the last year that we hadn't seen one another. Just something to be said about going 'home', especially when one seems to travel so far away.




I also had plenty of quality time with dad which included a 2 day visit to a family friends farm. Although it rained most the time we were there it was still nice to take a long hike, play on the jeep and 4 wheeler and especially sitting out on the front porch reading or chatting with dad. I miss these real talks about nothing in particular. Just talking. Hard to do when communicating long distance since most of the communication is based on what everyone is doing rather than how we are feeling. I would have posted a great collection of photos from the farm but they got deleted at a camera store when I tried to print them. Oh well.



It was nice to have such an experienced shopper as my sister since I had a huge list of things I needed to stock up on that I just can't get in Kosovo. This included a new suitcase with wheels that I could actually put everything in. A very funny random collection of decaf coffee, tennis balls, Tibetan cymbals and books for my yoga teaching, new running shoes. We hit all the old malls and just enjoyed each others company as I added more and more to the credit card.




I also have two of the dearest and oldest friends still in StL who are priorities upon my return. Although times have changed from our days of hitting the bars and clubs to visiting with them, their lovely wives and 1 and 4 kids. I must admit their stories of family life and fatherhood have me as intrigued and amused as I am from many of my own emerging market adventures. I even had the chance to help get little Eric ready for bed and read him bedtime stories. I find both Sydney and Alex to be an inspiration and role model to what it means by having the white picket fence and 1.5 kids (well Alex went a bit overboard).





Even though my parents are separated they still are friends and the entire family spent one night over at dear friends house with 3 other couples whose kids were all about the same age of Stacey and I and the gang would always do Superbowl parties, weddings and other random get togethers to just laugh till our sides hurt while stuffing our faces with family cooking and strong drinks. Only one of the other kids was around but all the story sharing was enough to be thankful I was back for this special visit sharing it with my family.






On one other night I was able to relive my highschool days to the T. A close highschool buddy Mark was back in StL for the weekend and we made plans for me to stop by his house, see his girls, for us to take his fathers nice new sportcar convertible out, go cruising down in the 'artsie' district full of outdoor restaurants and bars while appreciating the local scenery, eating sushi and contrasting of how different our lives have become with one of us as a private equity trader and an emerging market development consultant. But yet we will always have StL together.





The visit couldn't be complete without seeing at least one baseball game in the new stadium where we cheered on the Cardinals to a terrible loss but had just the best seats, hotdogs and cheesie jumbotron cam shots and advertisements flying from every direction. Ah, the good ole red-neck StL trash combined with every other walk of life and diversity that Missouri has to offer. And then changing gears quickly after the game to catch an opening weekend performance of the new Spiderman 3 with my dad (ironic that it is also showing in Kosovo) before have a final meal and shuttling off to the airport the next morning to take 2 days in returning to Pristina. While having to do the painful 7 hour layover in DC, a dear friend relieved my boredom by picking me up at the airport so we could go to a lake close-by and enjoy the sunny day and then get a nice meal before I had to endure 11 more hours of flying. At least I was able to watch both The Last King of Scotland and In Pursuit of Happiness. Problem was that yet again I did not sleep. As I wandered around Gatwick airport in a daze having just sped my way from Heathrow on a bus, I happened to bump into my program manager from Kosovo so she and I were able to pass my idle time chatting and sharing a ride from the airport back to our apartments in good ole Kosovo. At least it is warm here with all the fields in full green, harvests starting to mature, and the sense of just a little less pollution and trash about. Yes, my batteries felt recharged and I was prepared to put on my clean lenses to make the most out of my time here helping those I could I enjoying myself while at it.

And it started this off with a bang jumping right back into teaching yoga, playing frisbee, attending language class and visiting with all my new friends late night to catch up on what seemed to be an experience already long long ago.