host family – Hello from Kosovo

My PST Host Family

I spent last weekend visiting my pre-service training (PST) host family. I lived with them last June, July, and August. I hadn’t been back to visit them since.

My trip was exactly what I needed. I was in a familiar place, but a place that is no longer a part of my daily life. It gave me a break from the tedium I’ve been feeling lately. My previous village is also much prettier than where I am now. Kosovo is the first land-locked place I have ever lived. It didn’t bother me last summer, when I was surrounded by beautiful mountains. But my current village is located a valley, so it’s a flat/boring landscape with no water. It was so nice to be back in the mountains again!

I also hadn’t realized how much I miss my previous family. It’s funny — there are parallels between my two host families. Both sets of parents are ages 50-55, and both have grown sons/no daughters. But they live on opposite sides of Kosovo and have never met. Also, one family is Catholic and the other is Muslim.

Having been away from my PST host family for so long meant I had plenty to tell them. That’s one struggle I have in living with a host family — my day-to-day life is the same, so all I ever have to say is, “I went to school today. It was good.” I don’t have the language skills to talk about anything deeper or more meaningful, so I run out of topics to discuss. It was nice to be able to have a longer conversation in Shqip.

My trip there took 3 buses, 4 hours, and cost 5.50 Euro one-way (a lot, on a tiny Peace Corps budget). I was pulling my little wheelie suitcase up our dark country road I ran into my host parents, on their way to greet me. 🙂 Back at the house, I told them about life in my new village. I answered a million questions about my new host family, including “Do they make their bread or buy it?” (Yes, that was a real question.) When my host sister-in-law arrived, my host parents recounted everything I had just said to her. Then, when my host brother arrived, they recounted everything again. It was funny.

And, of course, I was excited to see the cats again!

kitten-then-and-now — The Kitten then and now

Have a good weekend, everyone! I’ll talk to you on Monday.

tabby-cat-blue-rug-grass — She looks like she’s smiling. 🙂

Guest Blogger: Chelsea Coombes

Hi, everyone! My friend and fellow Peace Corps trainee, Chelsea Coombes, graciously agreed to write a guest post for my blog. (I figured you all might appreciate hearing a perspective other than mine!) Her post is below. — April

I am extremely grateful to April for including me in her blog as a guest. I find myself constantly reading her posts. We all acknowledge that we have our single stories, however it is great to be going through this experience with such an inspiring new friend.

I had a very hard time choosing what I wanted to write about. I myself have not started a blog. I have been thinking how I would like to document my time here in Kosovo and I am not much of a blogger, but this is a good chance to try it out! While I was pondering what I wanted to write about I asked myself “what do you love most about Kosovo?” the answer, my host family.

I am a 24-year-old grad student who has only been out of her mother’s home for one year. I lived in Florida most of my life. Last year I moved to New Hampshire for school and at the time I thought that was the biggest decision of my life. That is of course until I moved thousands of miles away to Kosovo for Peace Corps. These last few months have been incredibly challenging, but extremely rewarding.

With that being said, I have never felt more included. The beginning of pre-service training (PST) is a blur, but I do remember meeting my PST family. Standing at the school with fear radiating through my entire body I was paired with the family who would take me in for the next three months. I have a host brother around age 20, two host sisters one who is the same age as me and one around 27, and a host mother. We awkwardly stared at each other and made small gestures while they helped me with my bags to their car and drove me to the house. Once at home we all sat around the table outside and the first thing they asked me, that I had to later translate was “do you feel at home?” I look back at this moment often. Here I am, miles away from my home and everything I know with a family whom I couldn’t communicate with in Albanian or English, and all I can think about is how generous they are. How they went out of their way to make me feel at home, even from day one.

Every day they make sure I am included in their family plans. I was invited to my host sister’s wedding the second day I arrived in country.

Their kindness and closeness has been overwhelmingly gracious. But it was a few weeks ago that really solidified my place in this family. It was storming and our power was out. I opened my door to find them settling down in the hall, the door was open and they had a flashlight. My host mom pulled up a cushion and encouraged me to sit. We ate chocolate, laughed about the rain and huddled up to each other. I felt like such an important member of a family, I felt loved.

PST is coming to a close and I know that the hardest part is going to be leaving them. My permanent site is about a 6-hour bus ride, and though I know I will visit it still feels like goodbye. I have seen my host mom sick, my sister leave for school to Germany, my host brother in goofy moments and my older sister become a wife. Being with a family through big transitions and being a part of them really makes you feel connected.

To the family that put up with my strange eating habits, laughed at my poor language skills and constantly let me know I was not a guest but part of this family, thank you.

My First Kosovar Wedding

My middle host brother got married on Saturday. It was my first Kosovar wedding!

From Tuesday night-Friday night, our house was busy with music and relatives every night. There was a long table set up in the driveway, and our family served snacks and beverages. Loud music played until about 11 p.m., and people would circle dance. The bride-to-be was absent during these festivities. Perhaps she was celebrating with her own family … I’m not sure.

Saturday was the actual wedding day. At about 11 a.m., a traditional band showed up, along with all of the relatives. People danced and took pictures with my host brother and his family.

Albanian Musicians

Then, the family left to go pick up the bride. (I didn’t go — not enough room in the car.) It is tradition for the bride to be driven by a long procession back to the groom’s family’s house. Relatives and neighbors on our end were waiting to receive her when she arrived.

imageedit_2_3921769179

There was more music and picture taking. Then, there was a lull of about 3 hours. Most of the relatives left, and we all kind of sat around and waited until it was time to go to the restaurant.

(One thing I found interesting about this wedding is that there was no actual ceremony. I asked one of my host brothers, and he said the bride and groom go to the cleric at the mosque to sign paperwork about a month in advance. The actual wedding day is just the party.)

We left at about 7:00 p.m. to go to the restaurant, about a mile or so up the main road. There was a lot of circle dancing! The woman all had beautiful dresses (and some changed into other beautiful dresses midway through the evening).

We had appetizers throughout the night. Dinner was served at 11:00 p.m. I ran into a local friend (who I didn’t know would be at the wedding). She and her boyfriend drove me home at 1:00 a.m. The party was still going strong — the cake cutting didn’t happen until 1:30, so I missed out.

(You’ll notice I didn’t include too many photos of my host family. I want to balance sharing my cultural experiences while respecting my host family’s privacy.)

One Week in Kosovo!

Hi, everyone! Did you miss me over the weekend? I’ve decided on a goal of posting once daily Monday-Friday. I need a break from processing/writing about my life on the weekends.

Yesterday marked my first full week in Kosovo! Yesterday was also the first day I’ve had off from Peace Corps activities. While I was looking forward to having time to myself, I was also nervous about how I would fill that time. I ended up taking a walk around my village alone, calling a friend in the States, reading, and spending time with my host family.

My three host brothers all returned to Pristina last night, going back to jobs and school. All three speak English pretty well, so I’m getting to know them better. The youngest is the friendliest and also speaks the best English. He likes spending time with the bees (my family has 4 cows, several chickens, a cat, and a number of bee hives). He told me, “Bees have complicated lives. They work like humans.”

The middle brother is the one getting married next month. He is a bit reserved, so I probably spent the least amount of time talking to him. The oldest brother took a while to warm up to me, but seems friendly enough. He likes Game of Thrones, so I suspect we’ll get along just fine. He told me he watched the first season in one day. I told him that in the United States, we call that, “binge watching.” He works as an elevator technician, and asked if I am afraid of elevators (no). He assured me that elevator cables, “never, ever, ever break. That only happens in the movies.” Good to know.

My host parents don’t speak any English. After dinner, my host mother asked me something while waving her hand. It took me a moment to figure out she was asking if I wanted to go for a hike in the mountains (yes). Our 12-year-old neighboring cousin came with us, and picked tiny strawberries for me to eat along the way. On our way back, I asked if I could come to his yard to see the puppies (his dog just had a litter of ten).

I had heard pets are not really a thing here in Kosovo, and it’s interesting to see the different attitude people have toward animals. My host mother made a face when she saw me holding the puppy, and afterward, my 12-year-old cousin insisted we wash our hands. (Really, farm kid? You’re worried about touching puppies?)

My family has an outdoor cat. On my first day here, I asked my middle brother the cat’s name, and gave me a strange look and said the cat has no name. My family just calls her “mace,” which is the Albanian word for “cat.” (It sounds like “matzi.”) Here is a picture of Mace:

(She is no substitute for Sweeney Todd, obviously, but at least I get some pet therapy.)

My host father returned from his trip to Albania last night. I showed him the homework I’ve been working on for Peace Corps. He kept saying, “Bravos, Ah-preel!” when I got something right, and “jo mire” (no good) for things that were incorrect. I’d neglected to fill in part of one worksheet, an exercise on numbers, and he prompted me for answers while filling them in. It was cute. 🙂

Today, and every day for the next three months, I’ll have Peace Corps training all day Monday-Friday, and for half of the day on Saturday. I meet my language teacher and the two other trainees living in my village each morning, and we share a taxi ride into the next largest village. This morning, we set up our local bank accounts, had a break for lunch, and then completed two Peace Corps trainings. On training days, we walk up a steep road to a beautiful hilltop restaurant, and meet in the conference room there.

Here’s a picture of the restaurant’s view: