North-sided.

Since i've started working for MDA, i had the chance to travel to many places within Kosova. I was in Artane (formerly known as Novobrdo), and traveled through Gracanica and some other villages. Now, I had to go to Shtrpce, Lypjan, and passed through a lot of grass/gravel, cars and cows as i made my way through my destination. It usually involves some kind of survey that brings me this opportunity to travel accros Kosova and meet new people from the regions. The reason i get picked for conducting these surveys is that my serbian is better than the serbian anyone at the office speaks: mine sucks, and their sucks even worse. So, chosing the less-worse serbian speaker was done, and i was the one that had to go do two surveys in the northern part of Kosova: Leposavic, Zvecane and Mitrovica. I'll admit that i did not feel comfortable when they told me that i had to go all by myself in those parts. Initially. I knew nothing about this part of Kosova, except the things i got from watching the news, or reading something on newspapers. So yes, i had reasons to be afraid from this unkown yet invisible/mysterious threat.

The driver that drove me to Mitrovica was a Bosnian, who spoke albanian and serbian, who lived in the northern part of Mitrovica and who's 8 year old child considered himself an albanian. His name was Adnan. We talked a lot during the road, about almost the universal stuff that preocupies us as inhabitants of this place: work, school, leisure time. Drivers changed and Bane (a serb from the northeren part of Mitrovica) drove me to Zvecane and Leposavic where i meet local inhabitants and utilized my rusted serbian-speaking skills to explain the questionnaires and ask questions to selected individuals.

After all were done, Adnan and I set back to Prishtina. It is strange to see those parts where you have to remove your KS license plates to move around. A lot of cars had old license plates and most had no plates at all. I did not feel threatened in any way, but was cautioned not to speak in albanian or i might risk putting everyone in danger. That was a threat, but i did ingore it a bit. I got scared about another thing: when you cross the Mahalla e Boshnjakve, everything we call "institutions" and the small "law and order" that we have created here, falls apart like a lego building. There is almost no rule of law (the law that the kosovar parliament passes), the police are just puppets, and the whole atmosphere gives you the impression that you are not in Kosova. That is when i got really scared and puzzled at the same time: why can't this part be like any other part? why are the serbs doing this? Without dwelling into our rich historical part, I came to understand the words North-Mitrovica and South-Mitrovica. I felt really sad for a city devided like that. The northern part was a part of serbia. Yes, people really struggle in these parts (barely survive), but seeing how they ignored the fact that they live in Kosova and not Kosova i Metohija as they used to call us, really pissed me off. I do not see how Mitrovica's ends will be together again. Nor i do not see how Leposavic or Zvecan or any other northern village can come to respect the Kosovar government and it's red-painted institutions. For them, they live in a place that is part of serbia (with all the posters of the ultra-nationalist tried in the Hague for Crimes agains humanity Vojislav Sheshel glued all around the places). They show not a single sing that they want to integrate within our "democratic" institutions.

On thing that really united them and us here, is trade. Albanian firms have started creating partnerships with some construction firms in Leposavic and Zvecan to help build roads and stuff. The conclusion is not that simple, but this might work: Only jobs and work will make us whole again, as Adnan was trying to say. The people in these places were just surviving, and need immediate help. However, they keep on ignoring the real facts on the ground. They are not to blame because they have shuffled their brains from Belgrade and now they are blinded by a situation whose purpose is not to make their lives better, but only for political reasons. As i was talking with Adnan, he told me this sentence that made my prospects a bit bright for the future of these parts: When the 8 year old boy asked Adnan (father) to buy him a silver eagle, Adnan joked and asked him: Aren't you bosnian? Why do you need the eagle? The child (Benjamin) responded: We might be Bosnian, but we all live in Kosova.