Burning Up on Reentry

I have returned to Los Angeles only to be greeted with furnace-like weather that was quite different from the mild temperatures and rain that we experienced in Frankfurt...yet quite similar to the scorching temperatures we encountered in Kosovo. The similarity more or less ends there, however. Needless to say, Los Angeles and Kosovo are a world apart, both literally and metaphorically speaking.

I've spent the last few days sort of mulling over the time I spent there. It was a little strange to have to shift gears between cultures so rapidly. This was probably made more difficult by the fact that, the day after I returned home, I had to report to South Pasadena High School and begin teaching a summer school class.

I haven't had much time alone since I've been home...well, not enough anyway. Thursday, I had to go start teaching, and on Friday I was whisked off to a few different 4th of July BBQ's, and forced to engage in small talk with people I'll never see again...which is one of the things I hate the most. As a strong introvert, I need to be by myself in order to reflect and recharge. Yesterday was my first real chance to do just that.

Reentry is a sort of buzz word used for returning Peace Corps volunteers, exchange students, short-term mission trippers and the like. To a lesser extent, it can be used to refer to people who are returning from traveling abroad, although not always in the same sense. When you travel, you don't necessarily experience a culture in the same way. Staying in a hotel or a youth hostel is quite different than living among people and working side by side with them in order to complete a project. You eat what they eat, you sleep how they sleep...you experience a little bit of what their daily lives are like. Again, this is vastly different than coming into a city, staying in a hostel for a few days, seeing all the sights, then moving on to the next city.

To be sure, Kosovo is not really an ideal tourist destination. It's easy to see how it could someday be just that. The landscape is among the most beautiful I have ever seen. The air is crisp and clean, and the thick blanket of smog which covers everything here in Los Angeles is noticeably absent. The forests in Kosovo are protected by strict anti-logging laws; it is a crime to cut down even one tree. The result is that the landscape is kept lush and green.

While in Kosovo, I stayed in a flat with four other members of the team: Bryan, Scott and Kevin from California, and Tim from Minnesota. The flat was a quaint little place that lacked both hot water and water pressure. The last couple days of the trip, our apartment had no water at all. Consequently, I had to join the locals in their trek down the street to fill up a few buckets with water in order to flush the toilets.

It's a little humbling, the manner in which these people seem to look up to Americans. They seem to think we are the best at everything, and take great pride in beating us at silly little things like arm wrestling matches and basketball games. Nearly every child I saw while there wanted to shake my hand, give me a high five, challenge me to a basketball game or practice their limited English. Often, this consisted of little more than a poorly pronounced, "What's your name?" or an excited, "Hello!"

Almost anytime I stopped by a store in order to purchase something to drink, I was met by somebody who insisted on making my purchase for me. I always felt a little bad about letting them do it but, since it is considered rude to refuse anything that is offered to you in that culture, I accepted. Again, it was humbling that so many of them wanted to do this.

The celebrity status with which Americans are treated in Kosovo seems to me to be a little undeserved. Many of the people there seem to have the impression that all of America is concerned with what happened there. The sad truth is, however, that I think the majority of us are completely unaware of the war and the ethnic cleansing that took place there. The conflict that took place there in the 1990s was largely ignored by American media and I doubt many Americans could even point out Kosovo on a map. Before I went there two years ago, I'd say that I was included in that category. I didn't really know anything about the place, and I didn't really care.

Since my first trip there in 2001, I have made a conscious effort to be more aware of what is going on in other parts of the world. I have seen the effects of war and ethnic cleansing first hand. It's an odd feeling to walk through the streets of a city and pass by buildings that have been completely destroyed by bombs.

It's strange to look up at the green forests and hillsides and realize that a few years ago, they had been swarming with guerilla troops and refugees. It's strange to think that many of those hills which look so inviting are actually peppered with landmines and unsafe to explore.

Religion in Kosovo serves as more of a cultural backdrop than anything else. The dominant religion is Islam...yet there are very few practicing Muslims there. One could say that everybody in Kosovo is Muslim in the same sense that everybody in Italy is Roman Catholic. It's a part of their culture, not necessarily part of their daily lives. Daily prayers are chanted over the loudspeaker from the local mosques, but nobody really seems to pay any attention to it...similar in many ways to the ringing of church bells in Western Europe.

While we went into Kosovo as part of a Christian organization, we did not go in there in order to convert anybody. Kosovars have a strong distrust of outsiders who come into their society with ulterior motives...for hundreds of years, they have been forced to convert from one faith to another. We don't preach to them, we don't attempt to evangelize them. If we did this, we would most likely no longer be welcome there.

I've often likened evangelism to being the Christian equivalent of an Amway sales pitch. Somebody you've never met before (and whom you will most likely never see again unless you join his or her organization) strikes up a conversation and pretends to be interested in what you have to say or in what is going on in your life. Really, however, their only goal is to get you to join their organization...be it Amway or the local church. It simply doesn't work.

Having been there twice, it was really interesting to note the changes that had occurred there between 2001 and 2003. Perhaps the most notable change was in the people themselves. There seems to be more of a hope for the future... more of a sense of optimism. Young people who never saw much opportunity for themselves are now planning on attending college, getting involved in dating relationships and leaving their traumatic pasts behind them. What is particularly admirable is the commitment that many of them have to stay where they are. I asked many of them if they had any desire to immigrate to another country, such as Germany or the United States. For the most part, they expressed a desire to remain in Kosovo and help improve their country. Naturally, there was the occasional exception to this rule.

I realize this entry has been somewhat piecemeal, but it is more just a collection of thoughts about my experiences as opposed to a comprehensive narrative. I'm not sure that I could do justice to my experiences there with a written description. As I said, visiting such a place is not the same as visiting France or Switzerland. A trip to a war-torn Third World nation is physically, emotionally and spiritually exhausting. And it's not always easy to put those experiences into words.