Holiday Weekend

In case anyone was worried, I was not harmed or affected by the violent demonstrations that took place in Prishtina this past week.  To be perfectly honest, I didn't even notice them.  I only heard about them through BBC and from other people here.  The weird thing is that I work just up the road from where they took place, but heard nothing! 

http://photoblog.nbcnews.com/_news/2012/10/22/14622010-protesters-clash-with-riot-police-in-kosovo?lite

This weekend marked the celebration of the Islamic holiday known here as Bajram (Pronounced, Bai-ram).  It is known as the Festival of the Sacrifice, and for those who can afford it/are very traditional celebrate it with friends and family.  It goes that to properly celebrate it, one purchases a sheep and takes it to the butcher to be cut.  The sheep is cut into 3 pieces, one to be eaten by the purchaser (and immediate family), one piece to be given to friends and other family, and a third to be given to charity.  It's this part that really is commendable about this holiday.  Charity is such a large part of this community, it is especially striking if you were to look at it as a percentage of their income.  For those who do not participate, it is a day off not to be taken for granted.  

It is a little bit eerie, though, throughout the entire Friday morning and afternoon.  It was entirely quiet and desolate, the sky played its part by adopting the Winter Grey to help round out the look!  It's a weird sensation to be in the middle of a capital city, on the main street, and it to appear empty!  It was a little unsettling, but fascinating at the same time.  But, unfortunately, this silence was broken by the discharge of firearms throughout the city. (though more prevalent towards the edges of town)  This is a sign of celebration,  to shoot your weapons into the air!  It is odd to be sitting in the middle of the Central Park and hearing rifles, pistols, and automatic weapons being shot up into the air.  I've heard my fair share of gun shots living in Atlanta, so I wasn't taken aback too much, but it's still a little strange with America having so many ordinances in place to prevent something like this from happening!  My friends and I had come to the Central Park area to find the scenes of the preparation for Bajram, as we had heard this is where the sheep were being prepared for families to pick up.  The Lambchop Massacres (as I affectionately coined it) were witnessed by one of my co-workers and her boyfriend, so I might be importing some of their evidence in once I get a chance to talk to them some more.  

Oh, I forgot to mention, that myself and 2 other Americans got second place in Trivia on Thursday.  We were awarded with a round of drinks, we opted for a shot of Sambuca.  It was my first time drinking it, but I will admit it was rather a pleasant beverage.  It would be perfect as an after dinner sipping "cocktail", similar to Limoncello or Pear Schnapps! 

The rest of the weekend went rather smoothly (outside of GT Football), though it is definitely starting to get colder.  I have looked at this week's forecast and it there are lows in and around freezing.  So I am pumped for that!  However the strangest thing is that Daylight Savings Time ended this morning, so until November 4th, I will actually only be 5 hours ahead of GA rather than the standard 6.  Oh time zones and daylight savings time...

This upcoming weekend I start my travels again, I will be spending the weekend in the city of Prizren.  I have heard good things about this place, so I am excited to finally see it.  I might even get to see some snow!  This month we are also planning a trip to Albania for their 100th year Independence Day, so that could be a once in a life time event!  

We have tentatively decided on a Thanksgiving festival, with some potential and talk about purchasing a turkey, live and gobbling, that will go from start to meal.  I can't think of a better way to spend my first Abroad Thanksgiving, besides kicking it old school.  

Sofia, Bulgaria: Where Vienna met the Socialist Party

The Road to Sofia

A Bulgarian tram is never late nor is it early.  It arrives precisely when it means too. (LOTR)  This adequately sums up my experiences with Sofia, as I ventured on all forms of public transportation during my recent visit to the Bulgarian capital.  This weekend was also my first experience taking the UN bus on weekend trips, which there are definitely some pros and cons to doing so.

I arrived a bit early to catch the bus on Friday afternoon,  I had worked a little bit extra everyday to ensure that I worked my 40 hours this week and could take the day off, and spent my time idling around the Fuel Station where the bus picks up.  New to this system, I was unsure about how promptly it leaves (although it is not Kosovar, it runs on Kosovar time)  so I made sure to get there roughly an hour before it began loading.  I had decided to save the money on a taxi and hoof it out towards the base, which is roughly a mile or so down the main highway to Peja.  It was a decent walk, with terrible weather, but I definitely was thankful that I decided to stretch my legs before getting on that bus.

Fish Soup, Cherni Bread, Salad, and Cookie!

The bus ride itself was pleasant; I met some other Americans and got a better idea of how other expats live.  The only thing is that it is about a 6 hour bus ride, adding in the +1 hour time difference, means us leaving at 16:00 gets us into Sofia around 23:00.  I was rather glad to get off the bus, needless to say, and the 30 min walk to my hostel was a welcomed thing.  However, Sofia has an interesting system of back alleys and "tunnels" that led me astray.  I walked back and forth in front of my hostel for about 15 minutes before I even noticed that it was down through one of these "tunnel" contraptions.  So I stumbled into the Nightingale Hostel around 24:00, enough time to eat a small bite and go straight to bed.  Tomorrow was mountain hiking day, and I assumed, rightly, I would need every ounce of energy I could muster.  Cherni Vrah (Black Peak), Vitosha (The name of the Mountain range) was my destination.

My Destination- Cherni Vrah

I woke up promptly at 4:30, when a couple of drunk girls stumbled back home from the bars (Oh, hostel life), then again at 8:00 when my alarm started blaring.  By the looks on the faces of the drunk girls, my revenge was exacted almost perfectly.  I started with a delicious breakfast of cereal and fresh baked croissant thingies with jelly in the middle.  This was provided in my nominally priced hostel.  I made sure to pack in my fair share.  I decided to ask the hostel owner, Michael, about the best way to get to Cherni Vrah.  The lengthy discussion, I made it out of the hostel by about 11, ended and I was armed with great directions to get money changed (Bulgaria uses the Lev, although it is well on its way to the Euro) and grab the appropriate bus to Vitosha.

Up, Up, and Away

I made it to the bus stop and was patiently waiting for my noble steed to take me to the next bus station, then on to the cable cars/lift.  After about 20 minutes, I asked around about the 9TM bus and heard that it decided not to run today.  This met one of the requirements to be considered a Balkans country.  So I grabbed the number 10 tram and headed towards Hladilnika, my next staging point.  Trams, regardless of location, are not the most efficient form of travel.  While they are fun, they do not go very fast.  Luckily, unlike Kosovo, there are no unofficial stops so it wasn't a constant start and stop.  The thing about the public transportation system that made me laugh was the systematic approach to them,  they would wait a little if they were ahead of schedule and speed up if they were behind.  It was a nice change of pace to the erratic Kosovar system. However, the thing irked me was that if the tram was at the end of the line you had to get off and could not get back on until he had moved around to the next "starting" stop.  The same went for buses, as I found out quickly enough.  Either way, I made it to Hladilnika safetly and ate the most delicious sandwich in the world. I mean overall it was a mediocre sandwich; however after a month and a half of zero pork, this sandwich was a gift from the heavens!

My Noble Steed

My Ferryman 

I attempted to get ahead of the game and walked to the 122 bus, the one that would take me to the cable cars/lift, and get on before it had stopped at its first stop.  This was bad form, I found out.  However, the bus driver gave me a free ride and let me sit upfront with him.  He would babble on in Bulgarian, I would laugh when appropriate.  I had heard that Bulgarians were not the nicest, but this fellow was quite the character.  I would catch the words"Obama" and "Cherni" in a sentence and then the bus driver would burst out laughing. I can only imagine what the sentence was about but I laughed along with him.  We had a golly good time, I'd say.

After arriving at the lift, I purchased a student pass (I'm such a rebel)  and started my ascent to Aleko.  Aleko is a tourist center/restaurant/chalet and is the highest point you can get to without walking.  During the winter, you can take a ski lift but alas there was no snow in October.  The wind picked up and the temperature started to fall, especially with the light drizzle that had started to pick up.  Mom, you would have been terrified of these lifts as they were a little rickety and made a lot of mechanical noises that raised some doubts.  After I exited the lift early, two times to be exact, I finally made it to the starting point of my trip.  It was roughly 13:45 at this point, and the last life down was 16:30.  I had my work cut out for me.

To give some background on Vitosha:  It sits on the outskirts of the city of Sofia, the south end of the city to be exact.  It's quite tall and has some great ski resorts, as I was told.  It's rises out of the south as I imagine that Mt. Saint Helen does in Washington.  Absolutely beautiful, but I am biased towards mountains.

Scenic Backdrop for a House

I started my trek, finding a random path here or there that took me through golden meadows dotted with rock outcroppings.  I finally made it onto the gravel pathway that would lead me up to the top as quickly as possible.  The views from here were daunting, your eyes would follow the meadow to a cliff and then out from there was the city of Sofia.

Presidential Guards

The ascent really took off the last about 100m.  If I remember correctly, it is approximately 500m of elevation change from Aleko to Cherni Vrah.  I felt every meter.  The only thing I wish I had once I got towards the top was a walking stick, the ground was steep, muddy, and full of rocks.  The meadows, I found out, were peat fields and the area was rich with it.  It is this grand golden color, like wheat fields, then off a cliff into the tall ex-Socialist buildings and bright evergreens.

The Path that I Found and Followed

I finally made it to the top.  Though there was not much to see as these dark grey clouds had started to wander in, fearing rain I started my descent.  I made it about 20m when the sun came out of nowhere and visibility returned.  I was awfully tired by this point, so I decided not to make the trek back up.  But it was a bit of Madden luck to reach the summit full of clouds.  It was around 15:30 when I started my descent, so I had to make up for lost time.  This included cutting through the meadows, with a gaggle of Bulgarian teenagers in tow, and jumping down super steep embankments.  There were a few close calls that would have led to a saturated and muddy behind, but alas the natural poise and grace I inherited from Mom and Dad won through and I escaped only slightly dirty.  I made it onto the last cable car down the mountain, so dodged a giant bullet there!

It Started to Get Real Steep, Quick!

I made my way back to the hostel, where I traded some Lev for a shower and a towel and awaited a pick up by my CouchSurfing host Nikolay. Nikolay was good people, he gave me a short tour through the city.  But with a slight pessimist spin.  That did wonders for me, because it made it all that more real.  It's one thing to sell a city, it's another to sell it as a real place. Don't get me wrong, Sofia has a magical air to it, but it is nice to get a pragmatic view on it.

Square of Tolerance

The Orthodox Corner

Catholic Corner

Islamic Corner

Jewish Corner

     To give some background on Nikolay, he lived on the West Side of Sofia.  It's name is on the tip of my fingers, Zapden Park or thereabouts.  At least that's the subway name.  This is supposedly the "rough" part of town, though only for women and small children.  It might also have to do with a tall, blond tourist with two backpacks.  I could have been a target.  Either way, he cooked dinner for me. We had steak, mushrooms, and bread.  It was almost American in its simplicity, and yes I did just steal simply delicious meal as American.  Boom. Anyways, his parents worked for the Interior and Exterior Agencies in Bulgaria and have been stationed all over the world.  He might have at one point been fluent in German, is currently fluent (or thereabouts) in Italian and French.  Bulgarian, which being the easiest of the Slavic languages cause it is the most simple, Serbian, Macedonian, (which is just faux-country anyways, according to Albania, Greece, and Bulgaria) Croatian, and Russian are mother tongues.  Hungarian, a little bit, and Arabic are his weakest languages, he has a degree in applied linguistics with a focus in Arabic.  Oh and he speaks English with a slight New York-er accent.  He's been around the block.  We discussed all sorts of things from the EU, to politics, sports, national identities, archaeology, bacon futures, maple syrup robberies, etc all over some nice Bulgarian beer followed by some Red Label.  It was a pleasant and relaxed evening, that I thoroughly needed after such strenuous hiking.

Random Rotunda inside the Presidential Building's Courtyard

My Subway Station for Saturday Night

Bulgarian Subways are Clean, Nice, and BIG

 
     Sunday was my subway day, I swear if the Atlanta could put together such a clean and magnificent piece of public transportation, I'd never leave.  It has the same reach as MARTA, but man was it on a whole n'other level. I completed my walk about tour, gathered some great photos, and found a hookah shop for my land lord.  So Sunday was really relaxed in that nature, though my Achilles was really starting to act up.  'Tis all better now, but whew did it hurt.  The bus back was on par with the bus there, maybe slightly more exciting. I realized however, that I am greatly interested in exploring urban decay.  Specifically ex-Socialist style buildings as nature has made their move.  It fits with my "ghost" town fascination too.  The road to Sofia has a few industrial parks that seem like nice little "time capsule" style moments.

I Had This View Regardless Which Direction I Turned My Head

     This week marked the start of my teaching career in a full position.  I am molding the minds of another countries youth. (though my night class is all adults, which is my favorite ESL level)  Working in another country has its ups, as well as downs.  Today was hectic and I've become an ad-hoc leader of the English teachers (think the Rebels in Star Wars) so I am trying to work out grievances/issues/questions/concerns/etc which is both informative and challenging.  Luckily, I love a good puzzle!

National Theater

The Mountain Path

Near the Chalet Was Wooded

It Really Started to Open Up into Flowing Meadows

The Mountain Range

Finally Found the Path!

The Path Continues

The Descent

Dečani or Deçan: A Serbian Monastery in an Albanian sea

After this weekend, it will be harder to write as much as I did for Ohrid.  For this, I am thankful.  (I am sure a few of you out there who braved the non-picture posts feel about the same)  This weekend's destination was the city of  Deçan (pronounced Dechan), a little town between Peja and Gjakova which is famous for the Vioski Decani Monastery. (Високи Дечани for my Cyrillic readers)

A First Glimpse of Vioski Decani

I had originally planned to make it to both Peja and Deçan on Saturday, but my 9:00 wake up did not leave that much time for such a thing.  9:00 seems early, so Joe, how did you run out of time?  It comes down to the bus system of Kosovo, (and I suspect much of the Balkans, aka Fmr. Yugoslavia and former Warsaw Pact-ers) while surprisingly phenomenally efficient and reliable, follows Franklin's old adage:  Early to bed, early to rise, blah blah blah.  The first bus to most places is roughly 5:30, while the last bus is generally around 18:00.  So unfortunately, getting up at 9:00 means there has been now 3.5 hours of missed buses.  It's a problem that I am slowly learning to rectify.  I've digressed.

So I make it out to Peja and everything is going great until the most horrid and unexpected incidence occurs - our bus becomes the local school's field trip bus.  I'm talking 40+ 8, 9 , or 10 year old Albanian kids that just overtake our bus like a plague.  Am I being too harsh?  It might seem as such on the surface, but not when you've lived through it.  And by through it, I mean in the midst of it.  I couldn't move quick enough to change seats and get out from their evil clutches.  It even included a kid getting sick and puking everywhere (although not on me, just around where he was seated), to complete the memory.  The teacher offered his apologizes profusely, but the damage was done.  My brother has a certain famous quote that popped into my head, one that you'll have to ask him to repeat as I do not have the rights to reproduce it, that surmised the situation and confirmed:  I'm not ready to have kids.

Roughly 13:00 rolls around and I jump off the bus at the first indication of being in Deçan, which is a one round-about town, starving for some lunch.  I stop by the first restaurant with outdoor seating, coming in contact with my first language barrier problem to date.  Luckily, with the aid of my Travel Guide/ Phrasebook, I was able to mumble Albanian/make hand gestures/point a lot through ordering a pleasant meal of soup.  It seemed like a pretty traditional soup too, so double score!  I cannot say with 100% certainty of what exactly I was eating (a problem that can occur with a late night run to Taco Bell, too)  but here is my guess:  cabbage wrapped chicken/beef sausage in a delicious broth of I'd guess the beef variety.  It was thick and delicious, accompanied by a huge loaf of fresh baked bread and cabbage salad.  It + coffee was 3 Euros.  Kosovo is a lovely place.

I decide to walk the rest of the way to the monastery, supposedly a 30 min walk from the main roundabout.  However, the sign pointing the correct direction is a little ambiguous and I end up taking my third right instead of my 2nd one.  (To translate for those of you not in Germany circa '07, I went left instead of straight)  After about 20 minutes of walking down the main road (between Peja and Gjakova) and realizing that my destination, in a valley tucked between heavily forested mountains, is clearly not in this increasingly flattened landscape.  I head back and am presented with some absolutely gorgeous views as I recount my steps back to the roundabout.  It's the same Spanish-style tile roofs (At this point, I might as well call it Balkans-style)  with towering peaks rising from behind them.  These peaks, which are all around the monastery, are apart of the mountain range that forms the natural border with Montenegro.  Western Kosovo is of high acclaim for it's raw beauty.  I finally make the right set of turns to set forth on my journey, with the help of a nice old man who helped me through the fork in the road, in the right direction towards the Monastery. 

The Town of Deçan

Background: The charter founded the Monastery in 1330, and construction was completed in 1350.  It was picked by the Serbian King King Stefan Uroš III Dečanski and he is buried there as well.  He had passed away before his monastery was chosen.  

The correct path is a winding forest path with jagged mountain peaks as a backdrop so if you are in-country, aim for that!  You will also know you are on the right path when you come across a military check-point, complete with Jersey barriers, camo-netted bunkers, and Italian KFOR guards.  I had read that there was a presence there, but they waved me through like it was nothing so I didn't think much of it. About 10 minutes of walking later, I still hadn't found the monastery so I stuck my thumb out to hitch a ride.  Low and behold, success!  However, my elated feeling of successfully hitchhiking was deflated when I realized that after about 10m we were there.  I just felt like a lazy American, however my driver just laughed with (or at) me and left me to enjoy.    I ran into problems when I tried to walk in the monastery without surrendering my passport, small issue that was sorted out easily.  There just so happens to be a military base so the first round of checkpoints was mainly for vehicles since the turn-off for the base was back there.  So after all this, I finally headed into the monastery.

I'm on the road to Deçan

The monastery was really quite pretty, the frescoes were in such great condition.  That is a perk of a continuously active monastery, there were no periods of time where things could rot and be destroyed.  Plus this is definitely a big site for the Serbs and the Orthodox Church.  It might be one of the reasons that they are so eager to reabsorb Kosovo back into the fold;  I can't substantiate that with facts/figures/surveys/etc yet, but it feels as much.  (It's a part of the history of Serbia, though)  I spent some time conversing with the Monks, who were friendly and spoke very decent English.  They grow their own grapes, make their own wine, and produce their own cheese.  Of course, as a Madden this was all the push I needed to buy a bottle of Red and some cheese.  However, they had 3 different types of cheese:  Goat, Sheep, and Cow and I was not very interested in the latter one.  I don't know which one I got, whether it's Goat or Sheep's cheese, so it'll be a fun adventure to taste it trial-by-fire style.  

Views from the Road (If I ever release an album, that is so the name of it)

The cool part of this Monastery was talking to a Polish KFOR guy, they were touring the region.  They seem to do a good job of getting these guys off base and allowing them to view the country.  He was a neat guy, who spoke pretty fluent English.  

Here is the start of the tour:

Virtual Tour 2012

Chandelier and Soldiers

Dome Frescoes

Raining indoors?

The Ever Popular Bicephalous Eagle

 The pictures are blurry cause my hands were shaking with excitement from being in such an acclaimed monastery.  Or I am just an awful photographer in low light situations without a flash.  YOU decide!

The Massive Front Door

 This is shot just right from the bunker that the soldiers spend their days in protecting the monastery.  It's camo-netted and there are tiny "murder holes" (an ancient term, but somewhat fitting) that you interact with the soldiers.  Or if you are me, I just walked into their guard shack and chatted away with them.  Tensions are seemingly low.

The Perfect Backdrop

 On my way back into town, I struck up a conversation with a fellow backpacker. (I'm the weekend type) He was a Scottish bloke who just graduated with a degree in photojournalism and an interest in international work. (He has an internship in Palestine in December, a freaking gold mine!)  He definitely had career path that paralleled mine, though he had come to Kosovo for 2 weeks to do a project on Orthodox Churches here.  We both were intrigued by the military base, as a helicopter was flying around trying to land on base.  
When you are on the monastery grounds it is serene, like there is no where else beyond the walls.  The reclusive mountain setting coupled with it being an active Church really compounds upon each other to create an atmosphere that writers can only dream about when they have writer's block.  Then out of nowhere, a military helicopter buzzes the place and upsets the balance.  I am not blaming the pilots, they are just trying to land at the base, but it's a hold out from the war time that is hard to imagine.  
 We struck up a good conversation about life, politics, philosophy, human rights, etc which really made the trip back a whole lot nicer.  He was headed off to Gjakova and I back to Peja, but there is a chance I will run into him again in Prishtina.  

 The Monastery is hidden by those trees, but this was my favorite shot of the surroundings.  In the foreground is the vineyard that produces some tasty looking wine, complete with the ringing of cowbells (it's not an MSU game, Mark) by the estate's marauding cattle.  I never saw the goats or sheep, but there is a lot of forested areas that one cannot visit.

 By the time I got back into Peja it was roughly 17:00, so with only an hour to explore I decided to come back another weekend and headed home.  I was a complete waste when I got back here, my biggest accomplishments were choking back the tears after watching the GT game and getting a good night's rest.

I finally finished up my article and proposal for a travel magazine that I hopefully will get to be a part of in the coming few weeks,  so everyone keep your fingers crossed!  And hopefully this upcoming weekend I can do a bit of networking on the UN bus that I am taking to Sofia, Bulgaria!  Everyone cross your fingers again! 

Tape 3: Picture Post of Ohrid

This is the promised picture post that you guys have been so patiently waiting for, so I'll do my best to keep the words to a minimum.  These pictures are entirely in chronological order, so you should be able to follow along as if you were sitting right next to me.  Enjoy!

The Ride Out There Through Kosovo

Skopje

 The Ride Through Macedonia

Ohrid

 By far the most perfect piece of property that I have ever seen.  It boast water/boardwalk front complete with astroturf.  That is the definition of perfection.

The Start of a Journey

 

Leaving St Jovan Kaneo

 This would be someone's view every single day. Above is behind their house, below is their view. 

The Fort and its Views

The Ancient Theater

The Gallery of Icons

A Final Look at the Port before I Headed Back to the Bus Station

 A Cute Old Man Playing Music on the Main Boulevard 

                                        

I hope this last post has been all that you imagined it to be, though it's only a fraction of the photos that I took.  When I get back stateside or if you end up in Prishtina, I will gladly show you every picture I took.