1.8 million dreams

By Marianne Cederberg

NEWBORN is a sculpture at the heart of Pristina symbolizing new beginnings, dreams, and aspirations of a nation. The monument keeps changing from time to time, currently its letters being organized as NO NEW BR (Broken Republic). Wednesday 21 June, the 8th day of our journey started off traditionally with gathering by this monument, carrying a message that was embodied in the people we met throughout the day.

From NEWBORN we headed for a visit to the Ministry of Justice. “No jeans,” the morning text had said. The meeting took place on the 18th floor of the Rilindja Tower, a majestic government building at the center of Pristina. In the conference room we were greeted with the Office Holder, together with the Head of Department for European Integration. The discussion that followed was lively, varying from corruption and war crimes to building trust in the legal system. We raised questions about the right to same sex marriage, the role of Kosovo Specialist Chambers in the Hague, and the inclusion of civil society in the legislation process. Above all, the meeting reflected Kosovo’s commitment to legal reforms to strengthen equality and peace through justice.

After the meeting we had a small break during which we had time to work on our individual projects. Fabian and I grabbed a taxi and headed to the office of Kosovo Women’s Network to interview Adelina, a warm-hearted and inspiring woman and an advocate for women’s rights. Adelina welcomed us in her beautifully decorated office with a smile. Sitting around a small coffee table, Adelina told us about her experiences of working with the media, in an attempt to amplify the voices of women and raise awareness of gender inequality. Through moving anecdotes about the women she has worked with, she told us about the challenges that persist in Kosovo. Admiration for her grew within me, as I listened to her stories. She taught us not just about the collaboration between NGOs and journalists in a post-conflict society, but also about the power of resilience.

After the break it was time for the second group meeting of the day, this time taking place at a bustling café. We met two people from Roma Versitas, an organization that works with the Roma community in Kosovo. They told us about the marginalization of the Roma people and how their own identity had been shaped by the society’s perception of them. “I used to consider being Roma a curse. Now I am proud to say I’m a gypsy,” they shared, reflecting on the power of embracing their heritage. This meeting was unique in that it was our first interaction outside the Albanian and Serb communities during the trip. It was a new, valuable perspective. After the discussion, we stepped outside to the café's terrace for a brief interview.  One of the two men happened to be a sociology student like myself and in between recordings we chatted about the lack of diversity in the sociological canon. It was a shared realization. I told him I hope he will be publishing some day.

It was time to head to the hostel to pick up our swimsuits because we were going to spend the afternoon at Lake Batlava, located up on the hills outside the city. On the way back Levin and I ran into two young women sitting outside of what seemed to be a beauty salon. We started chatting with the two and it turned out one of them was the owner of the salon. The conversation quickly turned toward politics and they shared how the current tensions were impacting their business, with imports from Serbia coming to a halt. Frustration could be seen on their faces when they talked about the prime minister's actions, which were adversely affecting their prospects. This encounter was a reminder of how international relations drip down to grassroots levels, affecting ordinary people in their daily lives. In these moments, I recall that politics is not a detached spectacle, but intricately linked to the hopes and aspirations of people, be it starting a business, pursuing education, or simply surviving.

The two women kindly offered us a private tour of the two-floor salon, an enchanting space filled with make-up stands, gleaming lights, and lush greenery.  I could see the pride in the owner’s eyes when she walked us through the salon. This woman embodied the 1,8 million dreams in Kosovo.

With the day getting hotter, we were relieved when an air-conditioned bus arrived to pick us up. The hour-long drive to Lake Batlava was filled with chatter and breathtaking views. Anticipation grew as the bus ascended the hills, leading us to the shimmering lake. When we arrived at the top, we wasted no time and quickly ran into the cool water. The afternoon unfolded with moments of swimming, sun-bathing, listening to music, and playing card games. Pedaling boats glided across the lake with the sun gradually descending behind the hills.

As the sun set on the eventful day, I found myself overwhelmed by the depth and diversity of conversations that had filled our day. Through these encounters, I witnessed the resilience of individuals and organizations dedicated to forging a path towards equality, justice, and empowerment. It is not that issues do not persist but that resilience prevails. As I reflect on this day, I am reminded that dreams are not just ethereal aspirations: they are tangible manifestations of determination and hope. In these 1.8 million dreams, Kosovo shines brightly. No new broken republic.