In Prishtina
Sejdi dropped at the Grand Hotel per his instructions and left immediately. I checked in. They did have a reservation for me so I was confident that I was in the right country but there was no message and no directions on what to do in the morning. Only time would tell.

It was almost a mild day which was nice because the main hotel restaurant was unheated. A violinist and a pianist played light classical opera favorites only a little louder and a little faster than musical discretion would have advised, hardly seeming to notice the chill in the air. I never considered that they might have played vigorously to keep warm. Most of the diners seemed to be from other countries, hardly surprising considering the size of the UN presence in Kosovo.

--Monday, 28 February 00--
The Grand Hotel
The hotel I am staying in, the Grand Hotel, takes itself quite seriously. When you look at it from outside, you see five stars over the name. Inside the accommodation suggest the need for more modesty: no claim is made as to quality and there is no claim that they could live up to. One significant plus, however, is that the building has its own electric generator. In these days, this is a big, big plus in Prishtina.

The Grand is a tall, "modern" style building with a spacious lobby filled with cigarette smoke, at least at night when crowds of locals gather there. It contains several large public rooms used as restaurants and bars or not used at all. It was designed to be grand and succeeds at being big in the public areas but it has water stains on the carpet and the elevator buttons on 5 (my floor) don't work. It has seen better days -- a long time ago.

On Monday I managed to find the office and made my introduction. One of the staff took me to have my photo ID made. We walked by street vendors selling everything from music CDs to cigarettes. She said, "I do not like this. To me it is the Gypsy way. Selling should be done in shops." Everyone dislikes the Gypsies.

She went on to tell me that the fire that destroyed the Sports Complex was from one of two causes: perhaps the fires for heating got out of control or perhaps a Serb did it. Here, everyone dislikes the Serbs. (I have heard that there was a major concert involving many performances scheduled for Saturday, the day after the fire began.) And now, four days after the fire started, the building was still smoldering, a performing legacy of stupidity or hate. Pick your poison.

The Central Fiscal Authority (CFA) was relocated to the former headquarters of the Kosovo Liberation Army (KLA). Someone whispered that the building had been the scene of unseemly deeds, including torture. If that is true, it will be a perfect facility for an accounting operation.

Someone I work with mentioned waking recently in the middle of the night and hearing heavy caliber followed by light caliber shooting followed by an explosion. He is trying to find out what happened. Video at eleven.

I had lunch with some of the people I work with. The conversation roamed here and there and was exceedingly pleasant. The food was a lot more spotty. I ordered some beefsteak and didn't like the taste of two of the three pieces. The french fries were good though, so I got enough calories. We all had a cappuccino which a waiter brought from a close by shop: definitely the best cappuccino I have ever had. Worth a return trip (and a different entree).

The above completely fails to do justice to the number of birds who fly around the city at dusk.

On the way back from lunch, a local staffer told me that he had seen two Tomahawk missiles in the sky. He also said that he had been held by the police for an hour with a gun pointed at his head. But that was then and this is now.

At dusk there are thousands upon thousands of birds flying around in a chaotic pattern. There seem to be numerous flocks but they seem to head in all directions at once. Someone told me that they only poop when they land so I went outside to see them better and looked up at the confused aerial activity. When I came back, I took out my hanky and showed him the evidence to the contrary.

These birds are about the size of pigeons, with a black body, a gray neck and a black cap on the top of the head and face. At dawn and dusk at least 10,000 gather in downtown Prishtina and fly around making a sound half way between a crow and a sea gull.

Above, on the left, in the center and on the right, birds are waiting for dusk to start circling. Where is Alfred when we need him?

They settle in large numbers on roofs, trees and antennas. They stay awhile then repeat the process. They appear overhead in great numbers and then seem to disappear only to reappear from a different direction.

Above, even with the eerie birds, Prishtina has lovely sunsets.

Someone told me that these are the famous Koss birds (Kosovo, get it?) and that they arrive here twice a day to reenact the famous Turkish defeat of the Serbs 600 years ago. They are regarded as symbols of bad luck. I can corroborate the bad luck I had with them. Maybe I should photograph my hanky and put it on the Internet?

In the evening, I worked on my notes for my web page movie reviews. Around 10 P.M. I decided on a trip to the lobby bar to see if I knew anyone. I didn't but decided to stay to have a local beer and to observe the large crowd of locals dressed in black leather coats who seem to inhabit the place.

After a while a tall man to my right offered me a cigarette. I declined the offer and we began to talk. His English wasn't facile but he could make himself understood. Eventually he told me that his wife spoke much better English than he did and invited me to dinner at his home. Call him Ishmael because that was his name.

He offered to teach me Albanian and I accepted. It would be useful to be able to say hello, thanks, excuse me, etc., in the local language. He started immediately and was a very good teacher; before long I felt as if I was fluent in Albanian.

But, of course, I have a lot to learn.

Joe