Post-Peace Lab Depression

By Ruth del Pino Bleijerveld

The post-Peace Lab depression has hit us all hard, but thankfully, we all are gathered together on a boat in the middle of the Amstel canal to ease the pain. While chatting and enjoying the breeze, we serve ourselves bowls of pasta and fruit salad, which Erik so kindly has spent all morning preparing. We chat, enjoy the music, soak the rays of sun into our skin, and absorb the sound of the buzzing energy of Amsterdam on a (very rare) sunny day. 

The last time we were all eating together, we sat at Rings in Prishtina, enjoying dinner at a large dining table, until suddenly we were told to divulge to the rest what our best memory of the trip was, and our learning point. Many of us found difficulty in putting into words an experience that is not easily reduced to language, and instead, resorted to tears. Bardha, one of our hosts, spoke about how lucky she was to be able to interact with us, and although we are a few years younger than her, she felt as if the age difference wasn’t there, because of the multitude of knowledge and experience that we brought to her. I would be lying if I said that this didn’t provoke a knot to form in my throat. I looked around and saw the watery eyes and smiling faces of my roommates in Bardha’s apartment. After 9 happy days and nights of cohabitation and belly-aching laughter sessions, we had formed a sisterhood. 

There was a specific moment during our trip that I remember as being impactful, a learning point, if you will. Perhaps it was the fiery rhetoric coming out of Petrit Selimi’s soul, in that fancy conference room of his Millennium Foundation office, but at some point I felt something click. I felt as if he had been feeling the same sense of urgency at improving people’s lives, empowering them and also, a sense of anger at those who were impeding this. 

During Selimi’s heated monologue, I realised that given my privilege of having a passport that allows me to travel limitlessly, I ought to advocate for the rights of those who don’t in Kosovo. How can we expect a society that is locked up in a cage to be progressive, women-empowering and focused on peace and reconciliation? - he said (and I paraphrase). This speech truly energized me to act with conviction and advocate for what I believe in, whatever path or career life leads me towards. 

I had many moments like this, sitting in the office of the European Youth Parliament, or listening to the presentation of editors at the creative and humorous magazine Kosovo 2.0, but most of all, I had these moments of deep empathy and solidarity through mundane conversations with Bardha. She and I were able to bond about silly things like the pain of waxing, latin reggeaton music, and good-looking Spanish actors, but we also had more serious conversations about the courage and forgiveness it takes to move beyond conflict management to conflict resolution. In short, I had so many ‘best memories’ and ‘learning points’ that to condense this into a single one would not do this journey justice.