Prizren, Kosovo

Entering Kosovo the changes in scenery were subtle: mountains a little steeper. looser rock, concrete plants, small towns so similar it doesn't feel as though a border was crossed. There are still mosques, minarets pointing skyward, but they are not brand new like so many in Macedonia. I found that refreshing. Kosovo looks like a place where people live, not a fake, flashy showplace for tourists. I hope it stays that way.

Prizren's favorite tourist shot.

My bed and breakfast in Prizren had no map but was very close to the big mosque, the old town square and the castle walls, so I set out on foot. My first impression was that this was a town in a delightful state of disrepair. Old buildings with hundreds of years of history and as many stories within their walls stood wobbly between buildings of varying age and design. Gentrification is happening, lots of repair and hotels rising among these old gems, but it wasn't blatant enough to dampen my enthusiasm.

It was late afternoon and the cobblestone area that passes as a square was filling with people. They sat at cafes eating pizza and ice cream. Families, couples, groups of youngsters and oldsters strolled the square calling out to one another, greeting, smiling, even at me. A young boy shyly patting a small drum tried to solicit coins from those seated at cafe tables with no sign of interest. I perched on a nearby wall to watch and was spotted right away. I had only Macedonian denars to offer and the boy was glad to accept. His friends gathered with their hands out and we had a playful little interchange before I walked off. The revelry went on well into the night. Where I live, gathering on the town square is a thing of the past, strongly discouraged now, so this is an event I find fun, even exciting.

The fortress atop the hill is a steep hike, great for the heart if it doesn't kill you. Inside the fortress are crumbling walls, mounds of yet unexcavated rooms, and open chambers full of trash and the smell of the sheep and goats that decorate the trails with their dung. There is repair going on, walls covered in plastic sheeting in varying stages of reconstruction. Red poppies bloom everywhere.

On the path below the fortress is an old religious complex, perhaps a monastery, roofless, a couple of columns still standing, others broken sections in neat rows. A small chapel within the walls gives barely a hint of the once colorful icons that lined its walls.

On one of my rambles, I found a church with high fencing, razor wire and a policeman posted on guard. So I asked him why. In 2004 and I think 2007, there was a rash of church burnings, all of the victims Orthodox, and this church was a victim. The structure was still sound, the roof intact, but icons were badly damaged. An international team is now working on restoring them with support from UNESCO. When asked who was to blame, the man could only offer the opinion that the burnings might have been politically motivated. I did not get a guided tour.

 I was an obvious tourist, walking around with a camera, and people were curious. They would approach me asking, Deutch?, Holland? Polish? and then be very pleased to find that I am American. It was really nice to be greeted in passing and always helped along my way. Interactions with people that made this trip memorable and Kosovo ranks high on my favorites list.