Prizren (Kosovo) | Ever Tried Boza? - Day 161

The view looking west from the old city center is fantastic! Fall has set in, and the hills are turning orange and gold. The old bridge over the Prizren River was initially built in the 15th century. However, a flood damaged the bridge, so it was rebuilt in 1982. Nevertheless, the pedestrian bridge feels authentic. 

One day until I can withdraw cash. It will be tight, but I know I can make it work. Unfortunately, my attempt to use my credit card to pay for my meals are for not. Unable to find a restaurant that takes credit cards this morning. I switch strategies and decide to wait till 1130 am to eat and decide to hunt for bargains to stretch my Euros.

It is overcast today, and rain is expected. I can use the time to research, do laundry, and rest. After my time in Albania, I need a day or so to slow down. In addition, I am starting to feel like I need a change. I could easily continue traveling for the next six months as I have, but my heart reminds me that there are some things I want to experience. And life on the road is making it hard to explore these. So today, I'll do just that while it rains.

The weather is not very cooperative for taking pictures, either. After attempting a few photos and being disappointed, I will take a different approach. I will wander looking for unusual things. Sites that would likely go unnoticed and are easier to photograph. I am looking for something that catches my eye and differs from what I've seen in other cities. I find this helps me connect with the city. I first encounter this bird's nest of electrical wires on this lamp pole. How this is not a hazard, I don't know. However, it is a common sight on the smaller streets adjacent to the old town. I would hate to be the electrician dispersed to fix a problem on this pole. Yikes!

Another odd sight is the statues commemorating what I guess are important events or people. They all have firearms prominently displayed. I notice that on one figure, there is little detail, except a very prominent pistol on the belt of the statue. This sculpture has both a gun and a rifle.

I find nearly half a dozen of these statues scattered throughout the city. I am intrigued as to why firearms are so prominent in these sculptures. It is as if the guns are as important as the person, but I am not sure. This is just my reaction at the moment. I can't help but wonder how it would feel to see these identical statues in downtown Fort Collins, Colorado, or in Montréal, Québéc.

One of the other unusual sights I see this morning is The American Corner. The corner depicts several landmarks from the United States. Kosovo and the people here really love Americans. The US was the first country to recognize Kosovo as an independent country. Kosovo declared independence from Serbia the day after the US officially recognized it as a country on February 16, 2008. Today, the US is considered the greatest partner in gaining recognition from the rest of the world. It still is strange to see this monument here, though I enjoy seeing it.

Around 6 pm, I head out for dinner in the rain and walk into Noja, the closed vegetarian restaurant from the other night. When I walk in, I notice two older gentlemen sitting together. One is Aby, a Turkish man from my hostel studying law in Kosovo. The other is a local Albanian man. "Come in. Sit down." says the older Albanian man. 

"Is this your first time to Prizren?" he asks. Yes, I just spent several weeks in Albania, I say. "Let me tell you about Albanians. We are very proud people, so we like to look good. The stubbornness of Albanians makes goats jealous. Albanians are lazy too. An Albanian man works hard only long enough to buy himself a cup of coffee, then he stops. But we are extremely loyal. Once I call you my friend, you are my friend for life." he continues. I can't help but smile. This is precisely the type of experience I was looking for. Pictures are not required. I just need to give a bit of my time and my ears for listening. From that comes authentic memories and a cultural education.

Even though I introduce myself, the old Albanian does not give me his name. We continue talking about the US and Canada when not talking about Kosovo and Albanians. He asks what I did for work previously, "Wildlife biologist. Now that is an honorable career." he says. We share a mutual respect for animals. He tells me of his facility where they rehab racehorses and teach them to trust people again. It takes a lot of love, patience, and time. Then once the horses trust him like their mother, he introduces them to young people. "It's important to teach young people about animals," he says.

Serbia does not recognize Kosovo as an independent nation. Instead, they claim Kosovo is still a territory of Serbia. "It is foolish. We are not Serbian. We are 90% Albanian here," he says. When the old man refers to Albanians, he refers to people who speak Albanian and the tribes that were once part of the Kingdom of Albania (circa 1272 AD). "The Turks had a saying that if you want to control Europe, you must control the Balkans. So to control the Balkans, you need to control the Albanians. This is why they invited young Albanian men into the military to be officers during the Ottoman Empire," he says.

Albanians in Kosovo do not see themselves as Serbs. Instead, they speak a different language and have other religions and customs. The map below shows the breakdown of ethnic groups within Kosovo and surrounding countries. It is evident that the Albanians do not have their own country; instead, they exist in several places in the Balkans.

While we chat, Aby interjects some things while pointing his finger at the old man. "Don't point that finger at me! I will kill you!!" he says, with a lot of inflection. Aby can't help himself and repeatedly uses his finger to address the old man. Finally, he notices himself doing it and bites his finger in frustration. I burst out laughing. The two are good friends. It is obvious they take turns sparing and insulting each other. It's great fun to watch. "English. Speak in English, Aby, so our friend Martin can understand," says the old man.

Aby says, "Have you tried Boza?" What is Boza? I ask. In Turkish, he asks the old man to help with the translation. The old man turns to a young boy who recently entered the restaurant. "If you are smart as I think you are, you will help Martin understand what Boza is. If not, I will cut off your head!" he says, dead serious. But we all know he is kidding. The young boy, who knows the old man, and is 15 years old, begins typing feverishly on his phone. A few seconds later, he pulls up a page from Wikipedia in English and shows it to me. After reading, the old man dispatches the boy to a local place to buy Boza for us. "Boza is made from many grains. In Prizren, it is made with corn. In Turkey, it is made with wheat," he says, then he looks at Aby. "I know you like the one from Turkey better. That is because you are homesick! And if you point that finger at me again, I will cut it off!!" he says. Aby quickly pulls his hands to his chest after looking at his hands as if he is unaware of why they are misbehaving. 

"In Kosovo, four languages are spoken. Albanian, Turkish, Serbian, Prizrenish. No one speaks Serbian anymore since it is no longer taught in schools. Only the older generation knows it since Yugoslavia doesn't exist anymore. Prizrenish is a cross between Albanian and Turkish. The youth of today mostly speak it. They frequently cross the two languages in their conversations without consciously knowing they are doing it." he says. It reminds me of Fren-glish of Québéc, where French and English are mixed. 

We spend the next while chatting about languages discussing the nuances and beauties of the 7,100 different languages spoken in the world today. These are unique languages, and the list does not include dialects. I find it interesting that we are speaking English, yet, he did not list English as a common language spoken here. Perhaps it is because the language is not a language that local people use to communicate in Prizren. Instead, they use it only when interacting with foreigners.

No two languages describe things precisely the same way. Each represents an object differently, capturing some but not everything that the object is with the language. That is what makes languages so interesting to me, I say. "Yes, like identical twins. They look the same on the surface, but there is no such thing as identical twins. Each twin is their own person. Languages are the same," he says. 

The boy returns with an unmarked one-liter bottle of Boza. Aby pours each of us a glass. Wow! This is good. I understand why you like it, Aby. "Better in Turkey," he says. "Oh, will you stop with the Turkey thing already," says the old man, who then leans over while looking at Aby and says, "His judgment is clouded because he is so homesick." I laugh because this reminds me to enjoy the simple things in the present moment. Longing for something that is not here, like Aby, who longs for Turkish Boza, often keeps a person from thoroughly enjoying what is in the present moment. 

Boza is light, refreshing, uncarbonated, and slightly sweet. I find it has the consistency of a watery smoothie and an enjoyable mouth feel. It finishes with a subtle tart and slightly tangy taste. It is very refreshing, and I also learned it is high in vitamins, probiotics, and calories. A glass fo Boza is pictured on the right.

Then, the old man's phone rings. He glances down at it. "That's my wife, and I need to go," he says. "I need to study more," says Aby as he points to his law books and notes. Thank you, gentlemen, for a wonderful evening, I say as I shake their hands. I look at my phone, and over 3 hours have passed since I arrived. I pay for my dinner, which was a salad and falafel wrap. It costs me 550 Euros, and then I head out.

This was a fantastic evening! It was exactly what I needed to mix up my travels. I remember when I was in Ireland, I had many of these experiences with local folks, which is one reason why my trip there was so rich. Albanians are wonderful people. I am grateful to be presented with these opportunities and realize they happen because I am willing to share my time. I wonder how things would be back home if I shared my time there, too, instead of running to and fro doing things I "need" to do.