Home Sweet Home?

By Sara Jelijs

 

Friday 24 June, it was late in the afternoon and a plane had brought the three of us back to Amsterdam. Only Lexa, Finn, and I could fly that day, the rest of the group had to wait until Saturday very, very early in the morning. We dragged ourselves to baggage belt 9 with all the energy we had left. All ten days in Kosovo had been full of impressions, experiences, and loads of information to process. During the night, we immersed ourselves in the Kosovar nightlife. Accompanied by cocktails a third of Amsterdam prices, a nice-and-easy beer, or home-brewed rakia, we talked, laughed, and danced the nights away. But now our batteries were more than empty, and the time had come to return to the land of canals, tolerated cannabis use, and overpriced grocery stores.

 

During our trip, as a group, we had drawn quite some attention. We had wandered the streets, and looks had come our way. Men would peer over their sunglasses, staring at all the pretty girls Anne had taken with her to Kosovo. “You look so beautiful today”, they would say, and we would laugh, look away, and discard the compliment as divas would. A flirt on the street was easily done in Kosovo, but back in Amsterdam, not so much; reality hit us hard. The Dutch atmosphere was different, we had gotten used to the Kosovar friendliness, and maybe taken it for granted. Sure, Dutch people are nice, but more closed-off, they keep more to themselves. Here, restaurant staff are more in a rush, ‘time is money’ seems to be the religion of some.

 

On the train on our way home, it became apparent just how much everyone is absorbed in their own little bubble. People look at their phones, and close themselves off with AirPods and giant headphones. “Don’t talk to me” is almost written on their foreheads. Another thing typical to Amsterdam I recognized only after coming back from Kosovo was a certain ‘center-of-the-world-illusion’. I would classify this as a type of megalomania, as pomposity, of which I am not very much a fan. Recognizing this made me consider the possibility of studying or moving elsewhere at some point in the future, something which I had not considered before. I have grown a bit tired of the arrogance and pretense people can sometimes carry with them, and although it never is this black-and-white, it is good to be aware of it. I can safely say I experienced a tiny little culture shock coming back to Amsterdam from Kosovo, only to settle in very soon afterwards, too. After all, it still is this Dutch culture, that also has good sides, of course, that I am used to.

 

Back in Amsterdam, we also had time to spend on our Peace Lab projects. My group, consisting of Lenka, Fleur, and myself, had decided to make a little film about Kosovar identity, and about the question of whether we can even speak about such an identity. During our trip, we had filmed interviews with people and taken shots of all the surroundings. Looking through all the footage we had collected made the return to Amsterdam not so bad. That was exactly one of the reasons we had decided to make a film; we wanted images, stories, and people to look back at, to always remind us of the wonderful time we had had.

 

Albert Heijn did have good deals the week we got back.