--Wednesday, 01 March 00--
In the evening I met Ishmail in the Grand's lobby and we walked to a nearby pub and had a few beers. Continuing our language training, we discussed the meanings of AM, PM, morning, evening, night, etc. For my part, I learned my first really important phrases: ekege floke dita, bad hair day, (pronounced aykacha floka dita) and falmnderit zotit sot eshte e premte, Thank God it's Friday. I have my language priorities straight.

In addition, he taught me:
Hello - tunjat yeta - (toonjat yeta)
Goodbye - mire u pafshim - (meera oo pafshim)
Thank you - falemnderit - (falemderit)
Excuse me - me' falni - (meh falnee)
How much? - sa kusht on bire - (sah kushton beer)
My name is Joe - emri yem eshte xho - (emree yem esht Joe)
What is your name? - si eshte emri yuaj - (see esht emree you-ly)
What is the name of that? - (chfare emri ka kee-yo)
What do you call this? - (chka do te thote kee-yo)

I asked Ishmail about what it was like during the recent troubles. He told me that he and his wife had been forced to leave Prishtina with only the clothing on their backs. His apartment was plundered, his TV and washing machine were taken, as well as anything of value. They spent three months with Macedonian Albanians who had "adopted" them. He expressed no bitterness.

Ishmail has no children but he has two brothers with seven children each, one brother with one child, and a sister with five children. That gives him 20 nieces and nephews. Large families are very common here. A high birthrate seems to be the punishment of the poor on the rich.

Afterwards, we came back to my room and did some more intensive language training. My progress is slow but I am enjoying the effort.


--Thursday, 02 March 00--
The day started off nicely but the sun gradually became covered by a blanket of clouds that threatened rain -- but only after I got to work. Then it started to rain steadily and I was depressed that I had left my waterproof poncho at the hotel.

It was raining heavily during the middle of the day and the water was coursing down the hill in front of our building pushing the brown mud in successive waves. When I went to lunch I went out in my Harris Tweed and my head uncovered. I haven't gotten that wet in a long time. When I was in the restaurent, I realized that I could have worn my coat and cap and been both drier and more comfortable. I have heard about people who didn't have the sense to come in out of the rain but I didn't realize I was a person who didn't have the sense to dress to out in the rain. Oh, well! We learn our limitations late in life.

I had lunch with George and Bernd. I had grilled veal but it made up in volume what it lacked in tenderness and came with veggies instead of french fries. (I took the half I didn't attempt to eat back to the office and gave it to a local staff person who liked it a lot.) The cappuccino, however, was still excellent.

During the meal, indeed, during all the meals I have eaten outside the hotel, young boys asked us to buy cigarettes from them. Every five minutes or so another arrives bearing the same brands. They seemed 8 to 12 years old and they carried perhaps a dozen cartons of various brands. They were very polite and took a "No," for what it meant and moved on immediately. This shows an entrepreneurial spirit which is good but schools for these young capitalists would be better in the long run. One wonders what kind of desperation sends these children out so. Later, I was told that this phenomenon developed only after 1991 when the Albanian Kosovars were systematically fired from their jobs.

Margaret stopped by the office and gave me an advance request form. She insisted that I fill it out as I stood there. When I wasn't quite sure how to proceed she dictated what I was to fill in and even told me how much money to request. I liked her style: she wouldn't let me waste any more of my time or her time on the thing than it was worth. She struck me as both efficient and effective.

Twice today the electricity went out. Each time our generator kicked in after 20 seconds so we were not much affected. The second outage, however, continued for hours, including my walk home. I knew that there was something odd about the experience but couldn't place it until I realized that the light to walk by was primarily from the headlights of passing cars and a few shops and restaurants who had a portable generator. The irregularity of electric power here is the rule of the day, although I have been told that things have been improving for the last fortnight, er, two weeks. [Note: I am working with several Australians and it is beginning to affect my vocabulary.].

As you walk around it seems as if every charity in the world has set up to try to do some good. There is a school between my hotel and where I work that has been rebuilt by a Jewish group and a sign proudly proclaims the achievement.

In the background, a school restored by an American charity.

With no street lights it is extremely difficult to see the puddles on the sidewalk. Again and again, I strode bravely forward and discovered myself in the middle of a muddy puddle -- a condition not equal to my self-image. Fortunately none were very deep but it made a statement about the value of street lights and the wisdom of remaining indoors on rainy, no-light nights.

I must try to learn from my experiences.

Joe