"Back to Reality"

By Vojtech Brezik 

Kosovo, Kosovo…so much has been said about it, yet there remain so many questions, awaiting so many answers. Never before have I had the chance to just pause my life for an an entire month and focus my mind on one single thing. Perhaps more importantly, who’d have ever thought that one day, for me and 19 of my fellow students, that single thing would be that tiny place in the middle of the Balkans: Kosovo. You might have noticed one word I used to describe my life: pause. Truly, it was (and, in a way, still is) as if everything in my life just paused for this month. Try it someday. Cease everything you’re doing and focus your mind and efforts on one specific task for an extended period of time. Looking back, how did it feel? Upon our return to Amsterdam, some of us felt empty inside, others lonely, and still others immediately missed the lovely people that accompanied us on our journey. For just a moment, the boat trip helped us nurture and sustain the feelings and memories of friendship, being together, eating and drinking together, and—perhaps most importantly—mutual love. Three days later, Anne welcomed us to class with those words: “Back to reality.” At that moment, we all knew it was time to shift gears. 

However, “pause” doesn’t reflect the lasting effect this experience will have had on so many aspects of our lives in the future, once we stop to look back and think about what we learned and saw. This trip offers a chance to get to know the people around you in a way you never could in a classroom setting. Not only to get to know them, but to live with them, eat with them, share all your moments with them. Given the task at hand, you know that you have become a part of something big and important. When Anne said to us: “We are living the lives that many of these people wish for,” I realised that there is a certain responsibility that we have towards everyone we spoke with, everyone we visited, everyone who hosted us and, perhaps most importantly, everyone who looked up to us with hope. If nothing else, it is a responsibility to learn and to share what we’ve learned, which is why we’ve been writing our diaries for the whole time, why we’ve been talking about everything we’d been through, why everyone asks you “How was Kosovo?”, and also why I’m writing this post. 

Even if I tried, I couldn’t explain “how Kosovo was” in its entirety. Even though the intensity of the trip gives you literally zero time for yourself, in a way, it is still very personal and intimate. Everyone returns with a thing, a memory, an experience special to them, be it seeing a drunk, crazy student twerking on stage, or the Imams' call to prayer. I have been going to Croatia for all my life with my family, and this trip felt like that too. It was like going to a different home, with a different family. 

        
“You might not know it yet, but one day, you guys will change the world.” Thank you, Anne, and thank you, everyone who shared this with me. 

Are we really living?

By Peppi Vaananen
  
This is the last week of the academic year. You can see the ranging emotions from wistfulness amongst the graduating students to the excitement of the others to have a summer break. But for us Peace Lab students, the work is not yet done. We are currently presenting on our projects that were created during the trip to Kosovo. If you are interested in what Rachael Liss and I were working on, please take a look on our Soundcloud page (spoiler alert: the topic is alcohol and we have included some hilarious stories, so it is fun to listen): Raki: Connecting people

The first group presented on the “Voices of Kosovo” Facebook page, and introduced a theme that they encountered in their interviews. The group noticed that many people in the post-conflict society are waiting for something. Often this was concrete, like a move abroad, but more frequently the wishes of the people were abstract. They used sentences like “There is no life here” and “One day, I hope to join my aunt in Germany to find a job and start living”. The Kosovars are dreaming of a better tomorrow, but everyone had a different idea on how to get there, whether it was improving the economy or reconciliation between the communities. The common theme was that many of the Kosovars interviewed were not content with their current lives, often due to the situation of the country. They were questioning, are the lives that they live really what life is supposed to be about?

Our professor threw this question back to us: Are we really living? I was stunned. A word as simple as “life” has so many connotations, depending on the time and context. I think that the people we met meant “life” as a synonym for life worth living. How can one define when life is worth living? Is there a threshold to be crossed to get there?

It is unfair to present this question to you, the readers, because I have not found a satisfactory answer myself. Still, if anyone asked the question “are you really living” while I was in Kosovo, my immediate answer would have been yes. I believe that many of my fellow students would have said the same.

To me, life worth living could mean that you are truly happy with the situation you are in: this encompasses that you are happy as you are, where you are, and with whom you are. Seems like an uncomfortable amount of gratefulness? Well, the reason for why I believe that I was all of the above in Kosovo has a lot to do with the attitude I had. Sometimes the biggest threat to “really living” is accepting the happiness. How can one learn to accept the situation as it is, and allow oneself to be happy?

I learned many things in Kosovo, but perhaps the most valuable lesson that I will always carry with me is that focusing on the moment makes all the difference. We had one thing to focus on while in Kosovo, and that was to be open to the learning process. Yes, we did have to work on the projects and write diaries, but the real message behind these assignments was to open up for the new experiences and learn on the way. When I do only doing one thing at the time, whether it is a school course or hobby, I am able to fully commit all of my energy to it. When all my focus was towards understanding the context of Kosovo, I dedicated all my senses to the situation. When I did this, it allowed me to appreciate the moment and to realize how happy Kosovo made me. I felt what “really living” means to me.

Many have asked, how is life after Kosovo? To be blunt, for many days after the trip had ended, I felt empty and spent my days thinking back to the good moments that we had during the trip. I have to keep reminding myself of the lesson that Kosovo taught me; you can be truly happy in whichever situation, if you decide to be living in the moment and appreciate it. There are times when things need to change and I still struggle with living in the moment instead of dreaming big, but Kosovo taught me that sometimes not much else needs to be changed than your mindset.

The idea that happiness comes from within cannot be taught. It needs to be experienced. I wonder if Kosovo as a state can overcome the barrier of acceptance: we are here now, and on the way to a better tomorrow, we can be happy too. But how can a state experience happiness? Does this mean a good standard of living for all? What can the state do to get there?

If you give the post a second look, you might notice that almost every third sentence is a question, which is fairly representative because instead of giving me answers, Kosovo provided me with questions. This is the type of learning that takes up all your time and energy and that you do not experience in a classroom, but it will surely teach you more than any scholarly article ever could. So I try to keep living with these questions and what I learned during the trip: through giving all you have to the learning process, you will learn much more and above all, enjoy the journey in itself.

It all starts in the books

By Johan Fredsted

It has now been 5 days and 7 hours since we landed at Schiphol airport after our 10-day experience in Kosovo and I already miss our host families and their children. After the intense and fast-paced dorm-fest and the much calmer and revitalizing boat trip on Anne and Erik’s boat on Sunday, I have had a few hours, in between working on the final project, to reflect on the emotional and physical roller coaster which was the trip. I never thought I’d say or write this but thanks to my ‘dear journal’ I have been able to look back at these days and relive every visit with one major alteration: a mental and obviously physical distance from the events. The lack of the olfactory, auditory and visual senses helps creating a distance, allowing me to revisit everything with a more neutral perspective. I am no longer (in the moment) manipulated by the succinct yet flourished language used by the activist Albin Kurti, or the intense gazes of the of the University students at the university of Pristina (Mitrovica). In hindsight, this distance has helped me understand certain things I was not able to previously put my finger on because of foggy thoughts. This trip has taught me more than I thought and reinforced many beliefs. Unfortunately I will only be able to touch upon a very select few in this post.

Peace building and what it entails sounds incredible. The word ‘peace’ only has positive connotations attached to it with the exception that it may be considered, similarly to glass, fragile and easy to shatter. Regardless of the latter how could anyone want to oppose peace? 

Well, this trip has taught me that peace building and keeping has at least as many sides to it as a hexagonal fighter’s ring and just as many colors as a rainbow. It is not just white like the dove or the swan, it is also black and all the grey shades that exist in between. Peace can be negative and positive. It can simply be the absence of war or the conscious cooperation and active participation of civil society in building a stable community. 

Throughout the trip I witnessed many groups of people opposing the peace-building initiatives taking place in Kosovo- the main reason being that it was all brought by foreign organizations. The peace-building attempts came from the foreign intervention by the UN, EU and other NGO missions. In a way, it seemed many Kosovars felt as though the ideals of peace were imposed on them by foreign powers who have been present in the nation since 1999 after the signing of UN resolution 1244. This is, of course, only one side to the coin, but nonetheless the side I had completely ignored and never seen. 

And this popular sentiment is particularly present in regards to the current, ongoing Brussel talks, where many of the interviewees expressed feeling of dissatisfaction as politicians with their own agenda as well as foreign nations are discussing the fate of Kosovo behind closed doors. No surprise that Vetevendosje, gained 24% of the votes 4 Sundays ago.

Also, previously to the trip I had a very abstract idea of what peace, but also peace building, meant. Through the trip I saw the practicalities, successes, deceptions and overall complexities of this art. Most importantly, I realized how important the concept of time is. Time miraculously heals the worst of wounds. Unfortunately, every wound leaves somewhat of a scar, a softer spot on the skin, frail and more susceptible to future damage. There are good and there are bad scars. A bad scar can get infected, which is exactly what sparked the war in Kosovo in 1998. The hatred, and ethnic/religious tension present between Albanians and Serbians lead to the infection of the wound. And Milosevic stirring up the collective memory of the Serbian population lead to a reopening of it. 

To continue with this medical metaphor, if one wants to reduce the scar tissue, the wound needs to be closed in a professional manner. It requires a trained doctors to stitch the skin together as well as time for it to form a smooth surface once again. In Kosovo, this wound (the tension and ethnic division) has already slowly closed because of time. The newer generations have not been affected by the war. There is no remembrance of it, because they simply did not experience it, making the hatred less rooted and more superficial. The hate is only fueled by stories told from mouth to ear as well as through the selected parts of history included in books. This selective memory (created by the ministry of education in both Kosovo and Serbia) fuels the discourse of superiority and nationalism damaging to the healing process. To heal the wound as efficiently as possible, it needs to be stitched together by a trained and educated doctor. Similarly, to reduce the tension, build a balanced and cooperative community, and to ultimately create a positive peace, the population needs to be educated and not indoctrinated. There should be a consensus in that not only one side of the story is told. Because what is worse than the feeling of being ignored and forgotten (both sides that is)? Needless to say that ideally this would also go for all marginalized groups including women and LGBTQI+ members. 

If they already have the most progressive and liberal constitution perhaps they could also move towards the most progressive school books-because ‘it all starts with the books’ (member of Youth initiative).

But this all takes time. and I heard almost every NGO member mention that patience becomes one of the most virtues and tools in peacekeeping. Being able to think long term is therefore an extremely important skill. 

And with this in mind, I would also like to thank Anne for (everything of course) but also her incredible patience with us (and this also includes the constant high demand of ‘pain and boursin’ on Sunday).

Although this may all be a very simplified and possibly reductionist metaphor of peace building, the main point I want to convey is that TIME is invaluable and so much more important than what I had previously thought. It is so much more than an abstract concept.

What are these crazy entities we call states?

By Nora Kajamaa
 

I am Dutch. I am Finnish. I am Italian. I am Canadian. 

Some people introduce themselves like this with ease. Many of us grew up in the place we were born and only left to go for university. But just as many of us were born in one place but lived in multiple others and speak a foreign language better than our mother or father tongue. We hesitate, err, and select the first or the easiest country that comes to mind. Yet when you really ask us, the countries we call home are countries we can speak the language of, to countries we know from our parents’ and grandparents’ stories, to countries that may be foreign lands but where we know where to find the best ice cream and how to best avoid the tourists.

The former group being granted with the gift of being able to call one stable country their home and the latter group not having loyalty to just one place, both lose the understanding of what it means to build something entirely new. 

This is what being Newborn means. It’s a mission, a dream, an ambition to create this imaginary entity we call states with strangers you’ve never met. Imagine having to trust, work with, and dream for a better future with strangers who may have murdered your father or burnt your house or raped your sister, but maybe also sheltered, hid, and fed you during the war. War brings out the best and the worst of people, but it’s how we stand up afterwards is how we will be remembered.

And Kosovo is now little by little trying to stand up on its own, without the international community metaphorically spoon-feeding it milk formula. The citizens of Kosovo have to ask themselves these difficult questions that we take for granted and think of as self-evident, like what should the flag be? How should language be taught at schools? What should our country calling code be? All these ultimately arrive to the same question: what is this crazy thing we call a state? Is it the people or the geography? Is it the culture or the language? At what point does being Kosovar become more important to being Albanian or Serb or Egyptian or Turkish? 

Or a question for us: what makes us Dutch but not English or Greek?

All this decision-making is messy and rewardless, but through the group project my group did Voices of Kosovo, I got to meet these abstract strangers that are consciously and surely accepting to do this dirty work at raising a newborn state. Plenty have the opportunity to leave to live a better life elsewhere and plenty do leave, but then there are those that put their foot down and face the situation their parents have left behind with pride. There was the taxi driver my father’s age that came back after 20 years living in Germany because it was time to put in some effort for his country’s future. There’s Lendi, who had the chance to leave for Germany, but decided to remain in Kosovo to advocate for LGBT rights in a society where most high school students don’t even know that the LGBT community exists, much less understands what LGBT means. Then there’s Lai Shala, who dreams of learning everything he can in Oslo so that he can bring the knowledge back home and help in building a future. 

This type of loyalty astounded me the most during my time in Kosovo and helped me understand a little bit more of what it means to be from somewhere.

So, what are these crazy entities we call states? 

Perhaps dreams that have become tangible.

The Kosovo Experience - Learning how to Learn

By Nini Pieters

It has now been a few days since we have come back from our field trip to Kosovo – and I must admit that they were not particularly easy ones. All the information and experiences are slowly starting to sink in, and half of my mind is still with the people, organizations, discussions, tears and laughter from the past ten days. The day we came back, my friends asked firstly how the trip to Kosovo had been, and secondly what it was that we had done there. But the truth is that no answer would truly do justice to what I learned during Peace Lab, and to be frank, I don’t think a blog post can either.

During our last dinner in Pristina on Wednesday, one student said that she had learned how to really listen. I think this is one very adequate way to capture it, though I would add that I also learned how to learn. Of course, in some ways we have been ‘learning’ our whole lives - and academically speaking we have been learning a lot during our studies at the Amsterdam University College.

However, the term learning suddenly obtains an entirely new meaning when you put the theories you have been reading into practice, and when you see and experience the true meaning of peacekeeping, state building, and human rights. One of the most significant realizations I had is that even though many political and societal concepts sound good on paper, in practice there are so many more layers and individual factors at play. In some aspects, Kosovo seems to have followed the ideal ‘ peacekeeping - recipe’: take a NATO peacekeeping force (KFOR), add a broad United Nations peace support mission (UNMIK), mix it with European and EU organizations such as the OSCE and EULEX, and the base for a successful state is created. However, the reality is that a state consists of its people; and if these people find themselves in deep ethnic divides, if these people are unable to fulfill their economic needs, and if they do not possess the resources to appropriately govern a country, then the most benign international support is not sufficient. This is not to say that I am against the international post-conflict efforts in Kosovo, as many Kosovars themselves seem to acknowledge that without the presence of international organizations, things could be much worse. But what I want to emphasize hereby is that by merely studying theories, the way things look on paper, and the way they are supposed to be like, one does not truly learn – at least not in a holistic sense. One example is the Kosovan constitution, which is one of the most progressive and liberal ones in Europe, partly due to the international influence in Kosovo. However, unfortunately many of its provisions are either not specified in the legal framework of the country, or are simply not being implemented. In Western European countries like the Netherlands, we barely question such practical aspects of the legal framework, because we are so used to the fact that the legal and political sphere is functioning. But situations like the one in Kosovo prove that one should never stop questioning, being critical, and seeing things from different perspectives. During our time in Kosovo, every moment felt like a great learning experience; every organization questioned the previous one; and every day shed a new light to a different aspect of Kosovo. Ultimately, if I would have to answer in a sentence, this is precisely what I learned: to listen, to understand, to remain critical, and to keep learning with every second that passes by.

Sensing Kosovo

By Lea Bonasera

Spending ten amazing days in Kosovo, there is one important takeaway from the journey: Kosovo is a beautiful place, both, in terms of landscape and people! Many of my friends think of Kosovo as a conflict area if not even war zone which they would never consider travelling to. I myself saw Kosovo as a post-conflict country rather than the youngest and probably most energetic place in Europe. Kosovo has much to offer that more people need to see. This is why I will use the blog entry to present Kosovo in the way that I experienced it, using the five senses to engage one`s imagination as much as possible.

Seeing Kosovo

In Pristina, where we spent most of our time, there is so much to see. Reaching from the famous “Newborn” sign to the lively boulevard, it is fun to explore the city. However, I dare to say that the countryside is even nicer. Kosovo has really, really, really (cannot stress it enough) beautiful lakes and mountains. Plus, the sky is most of the time cloudless and the sun shines brightly which is perfect for swimming.

Hearing Kosovo

If cheerfulness is audible, you can hear it in Kosovo. There are always people talking and laughing on the street and someone is playing music. Life is happening outside on the streets in Kosovo, during the day but especially during night.

Smelling Kosovo

Whereas Amsterdam provides a smell of weed in the city centre, Pristina is wrapped in cigarette smoke which is kind of hell for asthmatics. On the other hand, it is a paradise for smokers because cigarettes are cheap and it is allowed to smoke in restaurants.

Tasting Kosovo

Bread, bread, bread. Along with the bread there is fish, cheese, and fresh salad. The fruits and vegetables are really juicy and tasteful in Kosovo. For dessert, it is most likely to get some Baklava or Turkish Delight and of course some good old raki. Yummy!

Touching Kosovo

Being in Kosovo means attending a lot of fun meetings and getting to know many people. Handshakes and hugs are, therefore, included in the Peace lab trip. Also, having  kind and welcoming host families, especially host moms, results in getting two-kisses-on-the-cheek for breakfast. 

Bringing home lessons from Kosovo

By Klaudia Klonowska

Coming back from Kosovo hits you. All of a sudden there is no more sunshine. There is no schedule for important meetings. You have all the time for yourself. Your travel buddies are gone, so you feel a little bit lonely. Finally after two days of “coming back to reality”, we had a wonderful opportunity to get together on a boat.

For an outside observer we must have looked as any other Amsterdam boat: many happy students, food, some music, and beer. But it was a special moment today when I realised that we have all brought back home with us lessons learned in Kosovo. 

Peace Lab students with a Dutch flag and Amsterdam bridges in the background.

Starting with little things, as saying “falleminderit” (which means “thank you”), to major advances as signing Albanian songs. We put them up on the speakers and while passing by other Dutch party boats, we all moved to the rhythms of the Albanian pop stars.

To me, the trip to Kosovo was a revelation of how diverse Europe is. In conversations people often bring up, “Europe” or “the Western world” as an indication of development, peace, and prosperity. Though that holds true for most of Europe, there are still corners of our vast European house which we have not cleaned or chose to ignore. These are the parts of Europe, such as Kosovo, that are close to home, but fail to provide its citizens with the quality of lifestyle people enjoy in, for example, Amsterdam. One example is the LGBT rights; as we are aware by now, violation of rights of this group remain an obstacle to full integration. While at the same time Amsterdam is a hub of diversity - it was evident as we passed by a street of LGBT-friendly bars proudly featuring rainbow flags. Soon after, we were sailing past the Artis Zoo (lucky enough to see one zebra). Besides being a great place for kids to learn about animals and biology, Artis Zoo is also a popular tourist attraction. 

That made me think back to Pristina and I quickly realised that we have not gone to any museum, amusement, or a water park - most likely because the country has so many other social issues to figure out first before moving on to building tourist sights. Additionally, Amsterdam is such a welcoming city also due to its unique architecture. Anyone passing by canal houses or house boats will ask questions about its origins, just as we did today. Robert (as an official tour guide) told us stories about the Dutch past that made the boat tour very educational and enjoyable. The same cannot be said for Pristina’s architecture. The war that has torn apart the society in Kosovo back in 1998-1999 left a mark - also on architecture. A lot of buildings have been destroyed, the war caused economic stagnation, and isolation from the rest of the world. consequently leading to lack of resources. Stories behind buildings in Kosovo, such as an abandoned Orthodox Church or a newly built bridge, until today remind people (and visitors) of the war. This is a major difference in the way we perceive our surroundings.  

Of course, sitting on the boat and looking at the city around I made two promises to myself. One, I will continue to appreciate the opportunities of living in such a well-developed society. It cannot be taken for granted that there is peace and security in our corner of the world. Two, I will make a point to bring up Kosovo as an example of why the “Europe” argument doesn't work in terms of a well-developed and prosperous European standard. This way I hope to further spread awareness about Kosovo. Hopefully my stories will encourage people to travel and bring in external income to one of the European countries that is in need of an economic boost.     

Lastly but not least, we have brought back from Kosovo new friendships. This trip, though educational, was also a bonding experience for everyone involved. We began to take care of one another. Now we know who smiles widely when offered an extra piece of bread, who needs an extra boost of energy with vegan and fresh snacks, to whom not to put tomatoes in a salad, to whom to offer a beer, who prefers red over white wine, who gets cold easily… and the list could go on and on.