Here’s a funny story …
I’ve mentioned that I live in a small village. I’m close to several bigger towns/cities, and the other day, I took a taxi from the town south of me back to my house (about a 10-minute ride). I said to the driver, “Po shkoj ne (name of my town),” meaning, “I’m going to …” The driver asked if I was Italian. I said, “No, American.” I got in the taxi and we drove to my village.
I don’t know if I’ve mentioned this previously, but I replaced a K1 volunteer named Michael. (K1 is the first group of Kosovo Peace Corps volunteers, who completed their 2-year service this summer.) However, though I am teaching Michael’s school, I am living with a different host family.
As the taxi got close to my street, I tried to alert the driver in Shqip. I said “ketu” (here), “shtepia” (house), and “kthese” (turn). The driver glanced in the rearview mirror, like, “Oh, is she saying something?” but kept driving.
He pulled into the driveway to Michael’s house. Luckily, Michael’s host mother was in the front yard, and she came over to tell the driver where I live.
I found the whole situation to be very amusing, like, “Oh, you’re an American living in X village? I know where your house is.” It also reminded me that Kosovars are very much aware of the American volunteers here … a reminder that I need to be on my best behavior. 🙂