Another day in Kosovo -- and this was Saturday the quietest day of my work week.

Alan and I had lunch with the Tax Collection crew who turned out to be a pleasant group of real professionals. During the day I had several constructive exchanges with Ed Woodhouse and was pleased to be able to be as cooperative when they needed some expenditure documents processed. I noted that their system calls for tax inspectors to never touch money, even indirectly. The inspector delivers a bill which must be paid by the tax ower at the BPK branch bank and the tax inspector is not even allowed to go to the bank with the taxpayer.

At 6 PM I walked back to the hotel, wondering why I hadn't seen Smile in two days. As I suspected, he was in the hotel lobby. We chatted there. He said that he had spent last night in his village. I said that we should go to my room to drop of my computer and then go for a short walk. We did and practiced his language training a bit.

I found out that his name is Ismajl (pronounced iss-mile), an Arabic name meaning "happy," which is the role he plays with his friends, who call him Smile.

The night was mild and the light being good, I volunteered to walk Smile over to his work which is directly beside his house. I was going to leave but he told me to wait because Chesvee has hired another guard and he may not have to work that night.

Sure enough, he had the night off. Kimeta came out of their apartment while we were standing there and asked why Smile had not invited me into the house, just as her brother arrived with his ten(?) year old son, who, it turned out, Kimeta was going to baby sit. We went into the house and met the kid's sister who was as bashful as the kid was fearless.

I was offered some beer but it turned out that there was none in the house. Smile suggested to Kimeta that she go and get some but she pleasantly retorted that Smile was lazy and made a point of translating it for me. Shortly, Smile and Lumidin, the nephew, were on their way and I made conversation with Kimeta while the girl silently stared at me.

Smiles relationship with his in-law niece and nephew is interesting. He takes a very physical approach, hugging and kissing them repeatedly. The girl rejected this by slapping Smile on the arm or leg but didn't seem to resent the efforts, just as Smile didn't resent the implied rejection. Lumidin, whom Smile hugged and pressed and kissed and squeezed far more than his sister, seemed to enjoy all the attention. Kimeta was less aggressive in her affections but no less loving in her manner. She seemed to get along well with the girl. I was very struck at how two children of the same household and very close in age, were very different in their response to the same situation.

After one beer I accepted the offer of another but said that I would have to go because I was tired which had a semblance of truth about it but the real reason was that I didn't want to spend a pleasant evening indoors. So another beer later, Smile accompanied me home via the long route which took us to the small bar where Smile's "son" and best friend, Sabri, worked.
Overly proud of my minimal knowledge of Russian, a Slavic language, I ordered an "Efes piva". Sabri told me that "piva" was "Serbish" and the Albanian word was "beer", so I took the hint and ordered an Efes beer.

Smile and Sabri talked endlessly. I demanded some translation and it turns out that Smile is the principle gossip of the high school they both work in. Sabri, it seems, likes to confide in Smile the details of his -- apparently extensive -- amorous activities with the female staff. (Sabri is married with a daughter.) Smile, it seems, has made a point of telling everyone who will listen, about these activities, even -- if I understood correctly -- the female partners. (Smile's style is so smooth that I can believe this.) So, having told Smile about some latest conquest, Sabri was determined to get Smile to promise not to blab it all to the whole school. Smile was most cooperative: He promised that on Monday he would tell no one but that he could make no promises about Tuesday or thereafter. Sabri seemed to find this a helpful commitment.

Sabri closed the bar and drove us back to the Grand where we had some intensive language training. Smile's interest in learning English doesn't seem to have a limit.


--Sunday, 02 April 00--
I was sitting at an outdoor cafe with Clyde McSpadden when a boy walked up with a box of Mars bars. I was so pleased to see someone who was not selling cigarettes that I bought one and was told it was 2 DM ($1 and outrageously over priced). But that was only the beginning. I gave the boy a 5 mark coin and this wannabe upscale financier's way of making change was to put two more Mars bars on the table and demanding an additional 1 DM. I was so dazzled by such brassy effrontery that I actually paid.

A few of the army of young boys who sell cigarettes on the street and in restaurants. Some of them consume there own products.

--Tuesday, 04 April 00--
The weather consisted of ominous clouds that flattened out to a glare-filled whiteness as the day progressed.

The morning at work was actually nearly calm. Quite a break from the frenetic pace for the last few days. It gave me a chance to complete my first draft of the expenditure procedures. Got started on petty cash but got diverted into processing expenditures.

I had to go to the Government Building and on the way back I decided to pick up the Herald Tribune and since that brought me to the front of the Monaco, I decided to have lunch there. The day was so warm that I ate outside in the shade of a canopy.

As I was eating, Hilary and Steve came by and we chatted briefly. They were meeting Martin and Clyde for lunch and went into the restaurant to look for them but returned when they realized that neither Martin nor Clyde nor a free table were there, so they took me up on my offer to sit at my table. As Steve sat down, he said, "When are we getting together?" "Oh, whenever you want," I said. "How about tonight for dinner at La Perla." I said OK and asked were the place was and he told me.

Shortly, Martin and Clyde arrived and we dined together, sort of. I was completing my meal and they were ordering and, to help confuse things further, the waiter forgot Steve's order. While we waited for the food, Clyde mentioned that he had seen cockroaches in his hotel room -- something I have not seen although Clyde is in the Grand also. This seemed to amuse Steve who, without a moment's hesitation, told Clyde -- in a matter-of-fact manner -- that cockroaches use nostrils as sleeping bags and that when your nose is itchy at night it is because they are trying to move further in. Clyde makes a profession of ignoring things like that and the conversation went on.

Before they were done, I excused myself and went back to the office, scratching my nose as I went.

Joe