--Tuesday, 25 July 00--
I wrote a memo for Tony on Civil Registration's near-over spending and he asked how sure I was about the figures I used. I said that I felt sure of everything except the assignment of two 950K Swiss franc grants to general revenues as there were also documents that indicated that Civil Registration was also due some Swiss money. The assignment had been made in my absence and I could find no paper explaining it in a confirmable way.

Tony sent an email to a Swiss contact asking for information on the payments and copied me. The Swiss were most energetic in responding (I got four replies within five hours) and it turned out that the two payments were for Civil Registration and were not general revenues. I made arrangements to adjust the records.

Smile came by around 10:30 and asked if I wanted to have lunch with him. I did and we met at 1 PM at Rio for pizza. He asked why I had not come by on Sunday night and I told him again that I had told him that "if you don't come to see me, I won't come to see you." This time he understood. We enjoyed desert despite our misunderstanding and I told him that I would come by in the evening. I did and learned that gah-zour is "cheers" in Albanian.


--Wednesday, 26 July 00--
Smile told me that Albanians believe that if you say something and then sneeze suddenly then it means that what you said is true. I sneeze a lot so I liked the idea.


--Thursday, 27 July 00--
Awoke this morning to no water. I bathed from the large collection of Coke and Fanta bottles that I had previously filled with water. Shaving was a bit rough but I made do.

From a map behind Ali's desk I noticed that Prishtina is located at 42.6 degrees North which, if moved to the East coast, would put it just north of Boston. The thought makes me feel almost home.

When I got back to my apartment I tried to refill the bottles I emptied this morning -- you can never be too prepared -- but the water was off still or again. At first I was very frustrated but then I thought "It is only one and 3/4 days until I leave." Immediately I felt much better. This place is getting on my nerves, it is time for me to go home and refresh myself. Periodic refreshment is so vital that I have begun planning for a short vacation in October, this time to Copenhagen and Malmo, Sweden. It should be fun.


--Friday, 28 July 00--
Smile came by around 11 and we went to my apartment so I could give him the clothing he agreed to keep for me. I have found that when I assume I will return and act on it, I don't; but when I assume I will not return, I do. How to plan?


--Saturday, 29 July 00--
Thuy and I left for Skopje at Noon. The trip was uneventful other than demonstrating that I had forgotten that a manual transmission car has a clutch pedal. Our driver had us at the border in an hour but the line of cars to cross was long. As we got near the processing station, the driver got out to take our documents to passport control. I offered to inch the car forward as the line advanced and the driver agreed but the shift would not work. As he showed me, you have to press the clutch to change gears. The things you forget when you travel.

The driver dropped me at the Rose Diplomatique Hotel which has eight rooms (currently with three guests, including me) and a shaded yard where they serve meals and drinks. The rooms were nicely appointed and had showers.

Skopje, the Old City.

I went to my favorite chebop cafe on foot -- passing 2 McDonalds on the way -- and relaxed in the shade for 3 hours. On my way back to the hotel I stopped into the downtown McDonalds and had a plain double cheese. What an afternoon!


--Sunday, 30 July 00--
My hotel bathroom had shiny ceramic tile in maroon and off white, sparkling clean fixtures in brass and chrome sparkling with a general sense of newness, a wood-framed beveled glass mirror, a real shower in a shower stall and a sense of spotless cleanliness. What modern fixtures will do for the soul!

I had a good breakfast in the hotel, walked to the Vero supermarket for Compari and soda and Krushkavach which I dropped off at the hotel only to discover a message from Susan. I called back but she was out so I walked across town to the Vardar, to Fort Kale (pronounced Kah-lay), the Mustafa Pasha mosque, the bazaar, and the old town. I ended up people watching by the fountain and eating my favorite chebop again.

Skopje, the Mustafa Pasha mosque built in 1492.

Skopje's version of boy salesmen (salesboys?) are distinctly obnoxious: they will not take "No!" for an answer but continue to importune. At least they don't touch you like a certain class of beggars do. The salesboys in Prishtina have an entirely different sales philosophy -- they believe they will lose sales by pushing too hard so they enter a restaurant swiftly circle the room and exit unless someone calls them over -- and you have to be fast or they are gone. Of course, another salesboy will breeze by in 2 minutes.

And I swear that the average age here is lower -- in Prishtina the average age seems to be 10 or 11 but here it seems to be about 8.

Skopje, the old Fort Kale.

The appearance of Skopje does not suggest poverty but it doesn't talk about opportunity either and from what I can gather about the Macedonian economy, there is not much opportunity here. The waiter for my table told me that he had spent 2 years in Germany and didn't want to be a delivery boy here. He works 12 hours a day and in three months will return to Germany to marry his girlfriend. "I want to be a family man, to have a child. I think family is very important but for that you must think ahead. Here everyone is content if today is OK. They do not think about tomorrow. I am going back to Germany."

While I like Skopje but for all its pluses, I still had trouble getting a cold beer there. Life is a never ending struggle.


--Monday, 31 July 00--
I awoke around 12:30 AM and had trouble getting back to sleep, something very unusual for me. For the rest of the night I tossed and turned, dozing fitfully. Finally at 3:30 I got bored and got up. I showered, shaved, packed and noted that the hotel had skipped my scheduled 4 AM wake up call.

When I was shaving i noticed that I could not raise my head as high as usual. When I forced my head higher she pain in my left shoulder told me that I had a small muscle spasm. That was probably why i couldn't sleep.

I was downstairs awaiting my 5 AM ride to the airport which failed to show. At 5:15 I whipped out my Palm Pilot and called Erols. He called me back immediately and said the guy would be the in 10 minutes. Fifteen minutes later I was clinging to the dashboard with white knuckles as we zoomed along roads at 100 KPH.

The airport was filled with travelers already and was a real zoo. The lines were so deep I had no chance to change my tickets so I had to fly to Zagreb for a connection to Vienna. From Vienna I would connect to Chicago. The food on the flight to Zagreb wasn't revolting, it was merely disgusting. The really revolting food was on the Austrian Airlines flight to Chicago. I couldn't even look at it long enough to photograph it. The guy beside me had ordered something different from my order but when I looked over he had passed it by untouched. Otherwise the trip was uneventful.

The two quiet girls in the seats in front of me.

Two young girls sat in the seats in front of me and would occasionally look at me over the seat. Raising my eyebrows, wiggling my ears and flaring my nostrils, I made faces at them. They seemed fascinated by what they say but made no noise. I have a magnetic way with children.

Immigration, luggage collection, and Customs were a breeze. Once home, I went to the Bangkok and had their delicious Beef Fried Rice. I have it made special for me (no peas) and I apply the soy sauce liberally. Absolutely delicious.

While trying to stay awake until at least 9 PM, I thought about the treats awaiting me: hot dogs cooked with Rice-a-Roni, sausage biscuits with cheese and bacon, eight ounce bacon cheeseburgers, well-done french fries, eggs over easy and well-done hash browns, and crispy corn tacos with no lettuce, no tomatoes but with extra cheese (I call them my Mexican cheeseburgers). As I drifted off to sleep I dreamed of my perfect food: salt-encrusted, chocolate-coated, deep-fried Twinkies.

Joe