Anonim
Interviewer: What do you remember from the period before the war?
Interviewee: I remember my childhood from the period before the war. My parents, my sister and I moved from a place that is majority Serbian to a place that is mixed. And this was the first time I encountered another language. I was only five years old and I wondered what language they were speaking. And that’s how I started learning Albanian so that I could directly communicate with those children. The next memory, the neighbors are moving into the apartment next to us. A neighbor comes, an Albanian, and asks my father for brandy and pork. We were astonished because again according to Islam they should not drink and eat pork. He told my father that he didn’t care for that and that he would like to try it because he smelled how we were preparing some food. And he says… the man liked to drink. And that’s where our friendship begins. That woman looked after us while we were growing up, and that’s where I learned the basics about Islam, about culture above all, Albanians in Kosovo and, how can I say… it was really something, something incredible. Because, in the place where I’m from, there were people from all over and it was a kind of Yugoslavia in miniature. There were also Croats and Bosniaks there. There were even Czechs, and there were some ethnic communities that today literally seem to not exist or have been assimilated. I can’t even think of many. Some were called… called Hamde. It was a group that mainly engaged in animal husbandry from hill settlements, and they mainly brought milk to our settlement, etc. Now, I really don’t know who… what they were, but I know they were called Hamde. So, many things have changed since then. Childhood was carefree until a certain age. And then stories started already in high school about bloody Tuesday, bloody Friday, they intimidated us. In the neighborhood where I came from, we sang songs. I preferred rock music and something a little different. And these Albanian neighbors of mine loved Ceca and Dragana Mirković. And then we hummed some songs like that. And then some man would come by and say, don’t sing those Serbian songs. Then when it happened… that accident with Martinović up in Gnjilane, they used many ugly words, that is, said to Serbian women. Some Albanians or Albanian children. It always amazed me how I, who grew up in a tolerant family where I was not taught to hate and I never heard anything bad about Albanians from my parents, nor from my grandparents and the like, I listened… I wouldn’t say such things that an Albanian said to me on the street. And then I was really shocked because no one had attacked me before, but then it was… some kind of traumatic experience before the war. I would not talk about the details, but let’s say it’s real… so it’s… they didn’t… it wasn’t so carefree at the end of the eighties. However, there were intimidations.
Interviewer: And what do you remember from the war period?
Interviewee: From the period of the war, as if it was the end of the world. So it’s as if all the worst suspicions and bad forebodings had come true. Because, after all those events in the countries of the former Yugoslavia, starting with Croatia, Bosnia and everything we heard was being done. I thought, and so did all of my friends, that there was no way that would happen to us. Because we lived so well with our first neighbors. And somehow, I don’t know, we didn’t feel threatened. I could freely go to Pristina. I even hitchhiked as a high school student and stuff. When, all of a sudden, it was as if all the evil of this world fell to the ground, starting with the bombings. That’s when I lost faith in humanity. I lost faith in people, and when I… admittedly… the first Albanian neighbors approached and said that something was going on and that it was time to go. Mom, sister and I were there. I was preparing for one of the exams and my mother said that we were the last of anyone’s concern. That there is no chance of that happening to us. That aunty Bedrija of mine told me precious things. We were told that something was going to happen. We don’t know what, we have to go. They left. Like many others, we stayed. Then the first bombings started and then the chaos started. Then it really started like, how can I tell you, like the gates of hell opened. Bombing, that kind of hopelessness, greyness. After that, unknown people on the streets, beckoning someone. One could see all the evil of this world. Hardly anyone remained immune to evil. My sister and I did. My sister lost the power of speech for a while, right during the bombing. Then we had to go to my relatives in central Serbia. But I couldn’t stay in central Serbia because I didn’t want to be called Shiptarka. And yes… our own uncle to treat us like that. So we caught some last taxi. The bus could not accommodate us because it was full of passengers. Those who were returning to Kosovo, just like us. They were scolded more. We spent the last money on the taxi. Those last 100 marks we had to return to Kosovo with two more people. And we pass through Kosovo, that desolated place, nobody anywhere. Slightly burning, smoke, really unbelievable. Then the Serbian side… the Serbian forces withdraw, the Albanians return, NATO. I don’t know which is worse. Whether the bombing or after. Albanians are coming, everyone is accusing someone of something and accusing each other, they are looking for their belongings, who took what from whom. Then we start to protect ourselves, we run to our apartments. My father put spreads on the windows. He put bedspreads on the windows because we didn’t have anything else, so that we… to defend ourselves because they constantly stoned and threw bombs at the apartment next to us. And there were only us left… only three families in that part of town where I’m from since it was a mixed settlement. The rest of the Serbs moved out. There were daily attacks, meaning every night. They didn’t touch us. Admittedly, this is due to our Albanian neighbor, who looked after us because we protected them… while the bombing was going on. And hey, what else can I say. Simply, I am ashamed of what people did. Both from one side and from the other. Both during the bombing and after the bombing, and the hypocrisy of foreigners and… how can I tell you. There was a young Albanian woman who went to British KFOR every night, so that British KFOR would close its eyes to attacks on Serbs. And then the Serbs started moving out. And soon there was no one, only three families. We lasted until Vidovdan 2003, the three of us. And this one neighbors until March 17, 2004, when, unfortunately, some Albanian neighbors were the first to try to set them on fire, and then the Kosovo police came to save them. So, that time really… how can I say, as if everything suddenly collapsed and the whole world that I remember before that ceased to exist.
Interviewer: And how do you see the future of Kosovo society today? Are you on good terms with the Albanians and do you think we can build a society together?
Interviewee: I am on good terms, above all again with my first neighbor who raised us and her children. Even with grandchildren… grandchildren because the story of the good is passed on. As much as the stories of evil are the bad stories, the ones that travel the fastest, the stories of good are the ones that protect us. I often have the habit of saying that evil has no ethnicity, skin color, or language. Evil is as universal as good. And the evil that I saw was the same evil in the eyes of Serbs, Albanians and foreigners. And when you say the Kosovo society, I think that, unfortunately, it is some fake creation that neither we nor the Albanians see in the way that, if we want to move forward, perhaps we should see. Because we don’t believe in the same myths, starting with that. We don’t share the same values, we don’t share the same legends, there aren’t the same things that connect us, but we are so similar. If they started out of spite, and everything else. Even though we speak a different language, even though we are of different religions. Religion is not what defines Albanians, but Albanianism, that is ethnicity. They are not divided on the basis of religion, and unfortunately, we Serbs were divided. A lot… part of the ethnic group got lost. So, I say, I understand the mentality of my neighbors because I grew up with them, because I lived with them, ate with them. The first things I… I say again, I learned about Islam from them. And what I have the opportunity to see are European values attached to a society that is not ready for such a thing and then we got a cripple who tries to walk with the most modern crutches, let’s say. And then, if… okay, we Serbs have a Kosovo myth. What do Albanians have? They believe they are Illyrians, right? I often joke with my Albanian friends. You are the oldest people and we are the heavenly people. How do we put the two together?! And secondly, in the media, especially today, I’ve talked about it with many people, even though it’s been… how many… two decades and more, we’re still hearing stories that are tinged with hatred. Although it is perfidious, it is there, from the highest political leaders. And again, there are always some dates. It’s no longer Bloody Friday and Bloody Tuesday, it’s October 1, November 1. Will it be this, will it be that. How much does the northern part of Kosovo know about us who are in the south, and only Serbia itself? How much does Albania actually know about people… Albanians from Kosovo? Or in general about other communities in Kosovo?! So, I believe it is possible to live, but how?! What will we share? What will this country be called and who will believe in it. That’s it.
Interviewer: Thank you!
Interviewee: You’re welcome!